Master and Servant: Dark Dragon and Artisan Challenge

Two youths from Silverwood Spear walked up the stairs. The youth who had bumped into someone earlier suddenly stopped. "Wu Di, what do you think the guild is rushing us back from Charter City for?"

"Probably for publicity and to build hype—"

The youth showed an eager expression. "Is that so? I can't wait! Do you think we can become a famous artisan duo like the Blade of Arnor?"

Wu Di turned his head, giving his companion a look with his dead-fish eyes. "You can have anything in your dreams."

"Hey, hey," the youth called out. "Everyone needs dreams! What's the difference between someone with no dreams and those salted fish out there?"

But Wu Di had already walked upstairs without looking back. The other youth had no choice but to quickly follow.

As the two emerged from the stairs, a stern gaze swept over them. "Why are you only arriving now?" The person who spoke coldly was an exceptionally handsome young man. He wore a thick black overcoat but had a buzz cut, and he was frowning as he sized them up. His gaze was as sharp as two swords.

If looks could kill, Wu Di felt he would have been run through a dozen times already.

"Be careful," the youth nudged his companion from behind and whispered, "That's military personnel."

Wu Di nodded.

"What are you two whispering about?" Zhang Tianmou asked, frowning. As the sub-captain of the Star Gate Special Operations Team, he was only twenty-four years old but was already a second lieutenant in the Republic.

And as a soldier, he had always disliked the bad habit of these Chosen procrastinating.

The basic tenets of a soldier, discipline and obedience, were nowhere to be seen in them—

However, he also knew that these people weren't soldiers, after all.

Quite a few people had already gathered in the hallway. But they were clearly divided into two groups. Besides the silver battle robes of Silverwood Spear, everyone else was in a uniform black overcoat.

The former were scattered loosely, while the latter stood together like a neat black square, so quiet that not a needle could be heard. Not a single person made an unnecessary sound.

Seeing this, Wu Di lowered his head slightly and replied in a low voice, "Nothing, sorry. We were just delayed on the way..."

Zhang Tianmou gave a noncommittal grunt and flicked his head. "Rejoin your formation."

The youth didn't dare to say anything more at this point and obediently followed Wu Di into the Silverwood Spear ranks. However, his peripheral vision caught sight of the leader of this guild mission—the deputy head of the Seventh Regiment, who seemed to be exchanging words with the military second lieutenant.

"Captain Zhang," the deputy head of Silverwood Spear's Seventh Regiment said in a low voice, "Are we proceeding as agreed?"

Zhang Tianmou nodded impatiently. "Don't worry, the military won't interfere with your plan. However, we ask for your cooperation with our mission—"

The deputy head looked relieved. "That's good, that's good."

Seeing this, the youth grabbed someone and asked in a low voice, "Why are military personnel here? Who are they?"

The other person also lowered their voice and replied, "They're from the Special Operations Team."

"Star Gate Special Operations Team?" the youth blinked. "What are they doing here?"

But the other person shrugged. "Who knows? They seem to be looking for someone..."

Fang Heng, Jita, and Luo Yu walked along the creaking wooden corridor.

The building looked old, but its owner had maintained it very well. Thick carpets were laid on the floor, and the wooden wainscoting had been meticulously polished, its surface gleaming as if waxed.

Every detail was in its proper place.

On both sides were rows of rooms, each with a bright nameplate on the door. Fang Heng counted the numbers—from 1074 to 1092. Occasionally, they passed a balcony where adventurers gathered in small groups.

"My, my mind went completely blank. There was no room for anger," Jita said, blushing and lowering his head, sounding a little embarrassed. "But Fuli seemed very angry. Am I too useless?"

Fang Heng gently patted his shoulder.

After that unpleasant interlude, everyone lost interest in watching him test the 'Kingfisher' α. Etila and Tian Lan had to report back on their mission and left first, so only the three of them remained—no, four, plus the still unconscious Paparal heavy crossbowman.

This corridor led directly to the Dragon Horn Hall—

On the stone walls of that hall still hung a ferocious dragon horn from the Age of Giants. Inscriptions were carved onto the horn with a small knife: 'Never forget the fallen enemy—' It was said that this ancient maxim was still passed down among dragon slayers today.

Fang Heng had long heard of that dragon horn and was eager to see it.

At this moment, at the turning staircase ahead, two familiar figures—one master and one servant—suddenly appeared, causing him to freeze in surprise.

The young woman in the beige trench coat stopped at the foot of the stairs, putting down the box in her hand. She gave a command in a clear, pure voice without a trace of impurity to her maid: "Shesta, go wait for me on the second floor."

The maid, named Shesta, had short, light violet hair and matching eyes. She had a slender waist and was also an exceptionally beautiful woman.

But compared to her mistress, she paled in comparison.

The young woman simply stood there, quiet and elegant, like a beam of cool moonlight shining into one's heart.

Her face beneath the veil was pale and beautiful. Beneath her golden eyelashes lay a deep, emerald-like gaze. Her nose formed an elegant curve, and her lips were painted a tempting, soft cherry red.

She was like the exquisite title page of a fairy tale book, adorned with patterns of wild roses and thorns. A magnificent princess lived in seclusion in a castle, making one unable to resist reading the meaning within this mysterious story.

"That older sister is so beautiful..." Even Jita couldn't help but sigh.

Hearing the voices nearby, the young woman turned her head.

She saw Fang Heng and politely nodded to the group. She seemed to have forgotten that they had met on the plaza earlier. Fang Heng felt a complex mix of emotions, unsure whether he should feel fortunate or disappointed.

As he got closer, he noticed a noble crest on her leather case. A blue and white shield, adorned with a crimson wreath of plane leaves, a bronze helm, and torn cloak drapes falling from both sides. The heraldic beasts were two unicorns.

Beneath the drapery was a Kaolin Proverb, written in the Dwarven script of the Ishurians—'Time flows like water, wisdom grows with the day'.

While he was momentarily stunned, the two parties had already passed each other.

Jita turned her head and asked softly, "Brother Ed, do you understand heraldry?"

Fang Heng shook his head slightly, but he always felt like he had heard such a sentence somewhere before.

Luo Yu, on the other hand, shook his head. "I think that woman is very suspicious. We'd best stay far away from her." His words made both of them turn to look at him strangely.

Luo Yu paused, seeing the meaning in their eyes – why are you looking at me?

Jita said to him word by word, seriously, "Luo Yu, no wonder Miss Fuli privately said you were a 'ge'."

"What's a 'ge'?" Luo Yu was taken aback.

"It's... it's a gay guy," Jita explained with a blush.

The latter suddenly seemed to choke and coughed violently.

Fang Heng couldn't help but chuckle. For some reason, after laughing for a while, he suddenly couldn't laugh anymore.

The three of them walked through the corridor and entered a small hall. In front of them was a tall archway. Two servants stood by the door, pushing open the heavy wooden doors for them. Amidst a creaking sound, brilliant lights entered their vision.

The Dragon Horn Hall was before them.

Fang Heng subconsciously looked up and indeed saw that terrifying dragon horn spanning the entire dome of the hall.

It was a black dragon horn. You wouldn't be able to find such a massive dragon horn now. The Dark Dragon lineage had long since disappeared after the Giant Wars. Legend had it that the last Dark Dragon was killed by the dwarf dragon-slaying hero 'Varit' in the Deadland Marshes. Its enormous skeleton is still displayed in the Hall of Sacred Forging.

The light reflected off every jagged protrusion of the dragon horn, casting strange shadows that swayed and distorted on the dome, as if transforming into a shrieking dragon, spreading its wings to blot out the sky.

Fang Heng seemed to hear a strange shriek, a sound that came from the depths of his soul, chilling him to the bone.

All the lights suddenly went out, leaving only an empty darkness. A thick fog rolled in, and a colossal figure stood behind the mist. In the gloom, a pair of blood-red eyes seemed to be looking down at him.

"Azure Brilliance."

A low, cold laugh came from the darkness.

The voice seemed filled with disdain and contempt, carrying an arrogant and unrestrained tone, yet it also sounded like thunder from the heavens, exploding in the depths of Fang Heng's mind, rumbling incessantly.

He felt that thing parting the mist and coming towards him.

A bone-chilling cold seized his body, freezing his blood and rendering him immobile. The shadow was getting closer and closer, but suddenly a calm voice echoed in his mind:

"Wake up."

It was the fairy lady's voice.

Fang Heng jolted awake. The darkness receded instantly, and the surroundings became bright again. The brilliant lights dispelled all shadows, and the distorted shapes retreated like a receding tide.

He was still looking at the long, terrifying dragon horn, which remained motionless on the ceiling.

There was no change around him. People were coming and going in the hall, and the air was filled with a rich aroma of food.

Everything that had just happened seemed like an illusion—

An anxious voice called out urgently beside him, "Brother Ed, what's wrong?"

It was Jita's soft voice.

Fang Heng turned his head and saw her looking at him with a worried expression. "Brother Ed, you've been spacing out for a while. Is something wrong?"

Fang Heng shook his head.

He then noticed that someone had appeared beside them at some point—an old man. His silver hair was impeccably combed, and he was dressed in butler's attire: a white shirt, black vest, and straight trousers. One hand was behind his back, and his figure was slightly stooped.

However, this stoop did not detract from his demeanor. The old man exuded a calm composure, and his silver-gray eyes, set deep in their sockets, gazed intently at Fang Heng.

He suddenly asked in an aged voice, "What did you see?"

Fang Heng was very familiar with this voice; this was the old man whom Tian Lan called 'Shayek.' The old man's gaze made him feel a vague sense of caution. He forced himself to remain calm and replied, "Nothing, I was just lost in thought... This dragon horn is really huge."

"It is very large," the old man replied, looking up at the terrifying dragon horn. "Even in those dark times, you wouldn't find many dragons larger than it."

"It...?"

"Don't ask too many questions, young man," the old man said. "The dragon horn is a tradition here, but a dead dragon is not a good omen. Its shadow is even more ominous, for legend says only those on the verge of death can see the dragon's wings in the shadow—"

His tone was grim, making Fang Heng shiver involuntarily.

"You scared me, Mr. Shayek," Jita said, her heart pounding with fright, and she complained.

The old man then turned his head. "My apologies, I didn't mean to. The banquet prepared for you is ready. Shall we start dining now, or wait for Miss Etila to return?"

"Let's wait for them," Fang Heng said against his will. "We're not in a hurry anyway."

The rich aroma filling the air seemed to become even more intense, the richness of the meat juices mingling with melted cheese. The floor seemed to be covered with a layer of chopped nutmeg and fine cinnamon, soft and yielding.

His vision even started to darken.

Shayek looked at him and then nodded. "Then I shall take my leave."

"Wait a moment, Mr. Shayek..." the usually taciturn young man suddenly spoke up. "Today... are there any seats closer to the front?"

"Of course," Shayek replied. "Mr. Luo Yu, I know your habits. I've already prepared a table for you in the third row."

"...Thank you so much." Luo Yu was so grateful he didn't know how to express himself.

Honestly, this was the first time Fang Heng had seen this guy display an expression other than a stern, poker face.

The old man bowed slightly and then took his leave.

Luo Yu and Jita parted the crowd and walked to the front, while Fang Heng called out to his Dragon Soul twice in his heart, but received no response. He then vaguely felt a slight warmth on the back of his hand. When he raised it to look, he discovered that the half-crown emblem there was actually faintly glowing.

Fang Heng was stunned for a moment and couldn't help but rub it hard with his hand, but there was no reaction at all.

He tried various methods, but the glow became weaker and weaker until it disappeared. At this point, Jita was already calling his name from the front: "Brother Ed, our spot is over here!"

Fang Heng had no choice but to put the matter aside for the time being and walked over.

He reached the two of them and, remembering Luo Yu's earlier words, asked in a low voice, "Is there any advantage to this spot?"

"You don't know, Brother Ed?" Jita looked at him with some curiosity.

"Know what?"

"The Elpaxin Artisan Challenge."

"Wh, what challenge?"

"The Artisan Challenge." Luo Yu turned his head, and with rare seriousness, corrected him, "It's a competition organized by the Elpaxin region's Artisan Guild. Only the final stage is held at 'Traveler's Rest,' and the prize is Mr. Mazak's proudest work, the 'Golden Flame Ring'."

He paused here.

"Mr. Ed is also a Combat Artificer, right?"

Congratulations to NB for winning the championship. NB, who never disappoints, has finally disappointed us this time, but we hope they continue to disappoint the esteemed audience in the future.