Chapter 405: The Door Revisited

The white dragon beat his wings and set Wang Yu down at the edge of the central lake. Then his colossal frame shimmered as he shrank into the form of a tall young man with silver hair that fell to his shoulders.

"Lord Wang Yu, might I trouble you for a word?"

Wang Yu, who was just about to head back toward his temporary lodgings, gave a casual nod.

Truth be told, he had been planning to speak with the dragons sooner or later to hear what they intended for the future. He had thought to learn about it secondhand through Aurelian and Noelle, but if this white-haired man wished to speak directly, so much the better.

"Thank you. I am Miselyx, chieftain of the white dragons. For the moment, I may be the only clan leader left upon the Isle of Dragons. Shall we find a proper place to sit?"

The man's courtesy was genuine. Dragons, as every record Wang Yu had read made clear, were born with pride etched into their very bones. Yet that was long ago. After the calamity they had endured, this proud race no longer had the strength to wear such arrogance openly.

"No need. Here is fine, unless you need to keep things private."

Wang Yu waved the suggestion aside and sat cross-legged right where he stood. After the devastation that had scoured this island, there was hardly any place one could call fit for conversation. A patch of flat earth was good enough.

His eyes lingered a moment on the man before him. He had handsome features, a striking presence, and silver hair that gleamed like spun moonlight. A recurring thought struck him then: why did so many powerful nonhuman races have the ability to take on the guise of a human? And why, without exception—Sieg, Noelle, Aurelian, and now Miselyx—did they always look so perfect?

Most intelligent races, save a few rare beasts, were shaped after the human form. The differences seemed like variations, edits from the same base template. Could it be that all their forebears had once been one and the same?

Miselyx, of course, had no idea about Wang Yu's errant thoughts. Smiling faintly, he seated himself as well. The two faced each other across the barren ground.

"Allow me, once more, to thank you. This gratitude is not mine alone, but that of every dragon still alive. If not for your intervention, even the few dragons you see now might never have survived."

Miselyx spoke with disarming frankness, heedless of whether the dragons working nearby overheard his words.

"I only tended to their wounds," Wang Yu replied evenly. "Much of the credit belongs to Aurelian and Noelle."

This was the same answer Wang Yu had given before.

Miselyx paused and sighed, then let a wry smile touch his lips.

"Lord Wang Yu, do you know what it means to us, to have seen that figure rise once more?"

Wang Yu arched a brow. So they had noticed his command of the Dragon King's shell, after all.

"All who fought to free us will be remembered," Miselyx continued, "including your great companion. We do not wish to make a god of him, so we will not whisper his name from mouth to mouth. But we will not forget his sacrifice."

There was no resentment in his voice, no censure for Wang Yu's use of their king's body. Only sincerity. And by "that great companion," there was no doubt that he meant Sieg.

Wang Yu gave a small nod. That much he agreed with. He himself had never made sense of the gods that seemed to spring from the world's muddled faith.

If Sieg, the dragon who had ended Milos, were to one day be enshrined as some new "god," Wang Yu would feel nothing but disgust.

"So, my lord, there is no need to deny your contribution to the battle. Forgive me if it sounds shameless, but our kind has little left to offer."

His tone shifted. "Rather, from what I've learned through Aurelian, I wish to make a request of you."

Miselyx had evidently grasped Wang Yu's way of doing things. He had cut straight to the chase.

"Go on."

Wang Yu was curious what request the dragons would make of an outsider like him.

"You are the chosen of a deity, are you not? And an archbishop of Her church besides. On behalf of all dragonkind, I ask that you permit us to join your Church of Nightfall."

"To join the Church of Nightfall?"

Wang Yu considered Miselyx's request. On the surface, it seemed simple. But in truth, it meant binding the dragons' future to the Church—and to him. He was the helmsman of that ship.

What, he wondered, made them think he had the strength to bear such a burden? Clearly Miselyx saw some semblance of hope in him. But why?

"...Very well. There is no need for my permission. To join the Church of Nightfall, you need only devote your faith to the Lady of the Night. If you lack copies of the holy book of the Church, I can see that you receive them."

There was no reason to refuse. The church would grow stronger, and at the very least he would gain the dragons as allies. Wang Yu agreed with an offhand ease.

"Then I thank you. With the Church's aid, it will be far easier for our kind to weather these dark times. I will rely on your guidance, Lord Wang Yu."

Miselyx's smile was bright with genuine relief.

Wang Yu, for his part, felt oddly unsettled. Technically, he had always been the head of the Church of Nightfall—but only in name. He had never acted the part of a leader. At most, when some crisis arose, he would step in if he could.

But now this dragon chieftain, who had repeatedly addressed him as "Lord Wang Yu" and acknowledged his title as Archbishop, had cemented his role as the leader of an organization that had quietly blossomed. He might act alone, but he possessed real influence.

"Very well. I welcome the dragons. The Church of Nightfall will offer what help it can. May the Isle of Dragons rise anew."

He clasped Miselyx's hand. With nothing more to be said, Wang Yu turned to leave. He still had other pressing matters to see to.

As he walked, rubbing at his chin, another thought stirred, one he had not yet considered directly. Just how much weight did his words carry in the Church of Nightfall?

The Church of Nightfall was hardly a monolith. Would it spare the strength to aid the dragons here on his request? He would have to see.

Behind him, Miselyx watched his departing back. In his eyes was something more than respect, something akin to admiration, and perhaps beyond even that.

"What a miraculous existence you are. I hope I've made the right choice. Sieg's companion, one recognized by our king, the ‘dearest friend' of that silver dragon... To see so many identities bound to a single name is rare indeed."

Why had Miselyx chosen to entrust part of the dragons' future to an outsider like Wang Yu?

In part, it was because of what lingered within Wang Yu after he used the last of Wendel Myx's power to part the seas with a single stroke.

Though most dragons would never speak of it, all of them knew just who had commanded the Dragon King's body on the battlefield, and whose hand had raised the wall of lightning that kept the Isle of Dragons sealed from the strife of the outside world.

And in another sense, Miselyx saw in the Church of Nightfall the shadow of their king. The only true difference was this: the Dragon King could not rightly be called a god, while the Lady of the Night indeed was one.

The same lack of demand, the same selfless benevolence—the bond between that loosely governed church and its deity was, in many ways, akin to the bond between the Dragon King and his children.

And with his vast experience and expansive mind, Miselyx, not knowing that the Lady of the Night was a deity who conversed with her flock, naturally credited the strange vitality of that church to its archbishop, having read Wang Yu's bold arguments in the church's scriptures.

"The dragons have been estranged from this age for centuries. We need help to keep pace with the march of time, yet those whom we may trust are few indeed. If he can lead a church such as that, then he might well be the very ally the dragons so desperately require."

So mused Miselyx, his gaze resting on Wang Yu's back. This was the dilemma facing dragonkind: their power as individuals was immense, but that was it. Centuries of shackles had left their knowledge grievously fractured.

The battle that had just taken place revealed the dire flaw of relying solely on their bloodline might. As the chieftain of the white dragons, Miselyx understood better than most what his kin had to do henceforth.

After all, the strength of their flesh was not merely an advantage. It was a prize that others coveted. Having hidden themselves beyond the continent for centuries, the dragons would inevitably come into contact with the powers of the world. A bridge would be needed. And, after much thought, Miselyx had decided that Wang Yu, the leader of the Church of Nightfall, would be the most fitting bridge of all.

"Forgive me for selfishly presuming to count you among our allies."

Bowing, Miselyx offered a dragon's salute to Wang Yu's departing back.

When Wang Yu returned to his temporary residence, Avia tapped him on the cheek.

"What are you brooding over?"

"Ah... I'm wondering how I'm supposed to explain to Charles that I lost the Chronostasis Hourglass."

With a sigh, Wang Yu revealed the thought had plagued him the entire walk back. He had borrowed the strategic-class curio from Charles, only for it to vanish alongside the Professor's sacrifice.

"Don't worry. Charles might scream at you to pay him back, but I'm sure he'll understand."

With a twist of her hand, Avia opened a rift in space and yanked Wang Yu into the Seed of Eden's domain as she answered him.

"I know. But the hourglass was meant to help Charles steer clear of danger in his role as the leader of the Nightblades. He's a magician, after all, which means—"

Wang Yu dragged a chair over as he waited for Avia to begin her preparations. Certain debts were long past due.

"By the way, how much weight do my words carry in the Church of Nightfall these days?" he asked, struck by a sudden thought. Avia's instincts had always seemed keener than his own.

"Far more than you think. Put it this way: any decision of yours that isn't too outrageous can be taken as the word of the church itself."

Then, she rapped him lightly on the forehead with two fingers.

"I see..."

Wang Yu blinked. He nodded uncertainly as a new idea began to germinate in his head.

"Shall we begin, then?"

"Mm."

She nodded. He closed his eyes, and his consciousness sank inward. This was no void, but his own mindscape. His door materialized before him. This time, with Avia's aid, he would attempt to probe its mysteries.