Chapter 11: The Mysterious Orphan

The Dragon's Lair

To outsiders, the dragon's lair is undoubtedly a perilous place.

Typically, dragons cast protective spells around their lairs, with the magic's strength increasing as one nears the center. At the heart of the dragon's lair, dragons usually maintain their unique realm — the Dragon Domain.

Yet despite this, countless adventurers have ventured into the dragon's lair throughout history.

Adventurers entering the dragon's lair generally fall into three categories:

The first and most numerous group — the Greedy. It is well known that dragons have a penchant for collecting shiny objects, such as gold coins, gems, magical weapons, magic crystals, mirrors, and more. A large dragon's lair is essentially a vast treasure trove, wealthier than a kingdom. Imagine possessing it!

The second group — the Avengers. Admittedly, a small number of dragons habitually hunt humans or other races. To ensure lasting peace, some villages hire mercenaries or organize their own expeditions to hunt down these malevolent dragons.

The third group — the Dragon Slayers. This is a peculiar societal phenomenon. Among heroes, those most revered are associated with dragons: Dragon Knights and Dragon Slayers. For top-tier professionals who lack divine or demonic blood, which would make them a dragon's best friend, the alternative is often to slay a dragon — to prove to the world that they are greater than a dragon.

For the things they love, if people cannot possess them, they may choose to destroy them completely. This is perhaps a unique trait of the human race.

— Recorded in the Classic of Mountains and Seas. Dragon Clan

"Ha, the little one is quite cute." Rego displayed his usual good humor, smiling as he extended his dark hand towards the young dragon.

"Wow — ooh —" The little dragon, Greenie, was unceremonious, perhaps disliking unwashed hands for so long, and opened its mouth wide to take a fierce bite.

"Hey, don't bite," the old wizard said with a smile, "I've petrified my hand; you can't bite through it."

"Ptui — ptui —" Greenie obediently spat out the hand, panting and spitting vigorously on the ground. The originally green saliva had turned black after washing the great wizard's hand.

"Young man, what did you say your name was?" It seemed the petrification hadn't entirely worked; the old wizard's hand, as black as stone, still seeped dark red blood. Rego shook the blood from his hand while subtly changing the subject.

"Da Qingshan, Harker. Da Qingshan." As his name suggests, Da Qingshan was as steady and solid as a mountain. Though aware of others' intentions and despite being overlooked, like the majestic green mountains, he never reacted with malice.

Perhaps it was this kind-hearted nature, unpretentious style, and trustworthy conduct that earned him the favor of an ancient ice dragon.

At the age of 10, while most children were still nestled in their mother's arms, Da Qingshan had been hunting independently for a year.

It's hard to imagine how a young boy faced prey at least half as large as those on other continents amidst the vast snow. Or more accurately, many animals initially saw Da Qingshan as prey.

Initially, some villagers brought him food, but when winter set in, and the days became very short, lasting only two hours, most animals went into hibernation, making large-scale hunting impossible. Each household relied on the few game they caught in summer, leaving even less food to spare for an orphan.

Begging for food was undoubtedly not something Da Qingshan could bring himself to do.

During the short days and long nights, the 9-year-old Da Qingshan's most frequent and desired activity was — sleeping.

Only in dreams could he forget hunger; only in dreams could he see the sun; only in dreams could he taste delicious food; only in dreams could he see his parents before the avalanche; and only in dreams could he conserve energy.

However, even in dreams, he often felt hungry.

Hunger and cold became the most profound memories for the 9-year-old Da Qingshan.

When hunger became unbearable, a dizzy Da Qingshan clung to a last glimmer of hope, thinking of checking outside to see if he could catch a small game like a snow rabbit. He tried digging traps, setting crossbows, and exploring snow rabbit burrows.

The prey on the ice-covered continent had long adapted to human hunting activities. Unless there was a large-scale roundup, neither the cunning rabbits nor the elusive foxes could be caught, let alone a child's naive tricks.

Although his father left him a steel crossbow, at just nine years old, Da Qingshan lacked the strength to pull the bowstring that even an adult might struggle with.

Occasionally, on sunny snow slopes, Da Qingshan found snow rabbits, snow mice, or snow chickens frozen overnight, but more often, he returned empty-handed or with frozen wild vegetables he could eat.

Seeing Da Qingshan's increasingly weakened body and unsteady steps, most villagers knew: this child wouldn't survive the cold winter. It was beyond their help; the ice-covered continent was merciless, with limited food.

Until one evening, the villagers suddenly saw Da Qingshan returning alone from outside the village, laboriously dragging a massive carnivore — a snow leopard.

Everyone was stunned.

In the heart of the Dragon Tooth Mountains, snow leopards were incredibly agile, with powerful claws and teeth, large bodies, capable of climbing trees and swimming, making them the fiercest predators. A snow leopard could single-handedly attack a pack of snow wolves.

Hunters generally kept their distance from snow leopards, and even ten hunters might not be able to take one down.

How did an orphan manage to kill one?

In winter, human relationships were extremely cold. People rarely visited each other, not just to save energy and warmth by sitting still, but also because everyone feared "uninvited guests."

More and more people began to speculate:

"Did the snow leopard freeze to death?"

"Not sure."

"Look, he's not injured; can you fight a snow leopard without getting hurt?"

"And look, the snow leopard doesn't have any wounds."

"It doesn't seem frozen; its body is still soft."

In his usual silence, Da Qingshan struggled to drag the snow leopard home, where he gutted it, placed snow in a pot, gathered dry wood, and lit a fire. For the first time, smoke rose from the long-dormant chimney of his small house, and the long-lost aroma of meat slowly drifted to every corner of the village.

Once the meat was cooked, Da Qingshan packed the best pieces in wooden bowls and delivered them to the villagers who had helped him in the past, maintaining his silent demeanor, knocking on doors, bowing, "Thank you, uncle, aunt, grandpa, grandma," leaving the meat and departing.

Two days later, at another dusk, villagers again saw a small figure trudging through the snow — Da Qingshan, dragging something else: two snow foxes.

On the ice-covered continent, the most cunning animal was the fox. Unlike other animals, snow foxes retained a strikingly bright red fur even in winter. Despite being so conspicuous, few hunters could catch a fox. Furthermore, hunters generally avoided targeting foxes.

Years ago, a hunter injured a snow fox, and from that day on, foxes visited his home daily. First, they killed and dragged away his chickens, and once all were gone, they targeted his pigs. But pigs were too large to carry off, so the foxes, cunning as they were, rode on the pigs' backs, biting their ears as steering wheels, using their bushy tails as whips, and drove the pigs back to their den to kill and eat them.

Since then, no one dared to target foxes. How did this little guy manage to kill two at once?

In silent resolve, Da Qingshan returned home, gutted the foxes, and cooked the meat. Although fox meat wasn't tasty, in winter, any food was welcome. Once the meat was cooked, as before, he packed the best pieces in wooden bowls and delivered them to the villagers who had helped him, maintaining his silent demeanor: knocking on doors, bowing, "Thank you, uncle, aunt, grandpa, grandma," leaving the meat and departing.

Every few days, Da Qingshan would drag one or two large carnivores back to the village. His parents' dilapidated house became the only one in the village with smoke rising daily. The villagers who had helped Da Qingshan no longer worried about food.

In the courtyard of the small house, more and more tanned carnivore pelts were supported by hardwood stakes.

At that time, a rumor began circulating in the village:

After Da Qingshan's parents were killed by an avalanche sent by the mountain god, the god chose Da Qingshan as his successor, commanding carnivores to sacrifice themselves before Da Qingshan for him to eat — otherwise, why were there no signs of injury on any of the animals?

Thus, fewer people dared to mess with Da Qingshan.

The harsh winter passed, and the orphan who should have starved became much stronger than the average village child, thanks to abundant food. His old clothes were worn out, so he took the tanned pelts, cut them open, used animal bones as needles, and animal tendons as thread, sewing clothes for himself.

That summer, the theory of Da Qingshan being the mountain god's successor was further confirmed: after disappearing for several days, Da Qingshan returned to the village with a green dog by his side. This dog walked on two legs, and any animal that saw it immediately lost control, trembling in fear — what other dog could possess such might besides a mountain god's guardian dog?