The Key to the Gates of the Underworld

A beam of sunlight passed through a crack in the rock and fell upon a newly excavated nest within the mountain's belly.

The newly built Dragon Nest was somewhat rough. Vast amounts of dust swirled within it on the wind, even forming a small haze vortex at the entrance.

Sunlight passed through that storm of dust and shone upon the belly of a True Dragon lying on its back in its nest—the wind within the cavern was its breathing, and with every inhale and exhale, whirlwinds arose on their own.

One could vaguely see that this True Dragon's skin and nearly translucent scales lacked the toughness of its kin, instead carrying the tender fragility of something newly born.

But anyone who took that for weakness would be gravely mistaken, for a thin psychic shield flowed over those delicate scales. It appeared as soft as water, yet was dozens of times harder than steel.

The True Dragon Sheo was taking an afternoon nap, sleeping soundly—excavating a mountain and building a nest was no great challenge for the Third Energy Level. The hard part was making it beautiful, sturdy, and aesthetically pleasing, not to mention that physical labor had never been her strength.

Surveying the mountain's structure, continuously using psychic power to excavate the cave for three days and nights, and linking the surrounding natural psychic energy to construct a psychic field centered around the Dragon Nest... that workload was no less exhausting than a battle against an equally powerful opponent. It was only natural that she wished to rest.

At the cave entrance, the Mountain King stood silently before the door.

She suppressed nearly all mechanical waves in the surrounding area, making not a sound. Every so often, she merely poked her head in to check on how Sheo was resting.