Chapter Six: How the Azure Dragon Became Extinct

When morning came, the royal palace was suddenly blanketed in pure white. A biting wind swept down from the north, filling the air with swirling snowflakes.

Linley stood at the doorway, gazing up at the beautiful snowscape, unable to suppress his admiration. “With weather this fine, wouldn’t it be a waste not to go for a walk!” he exclaimed.

Nearby, a maid mopping up the accumulating snow broke out in a cold sweat. What was so good about this snowy day? In previous years, he’d have hidden in his bed, impossible to drag out even by force. Yet now, everything was different—Linley wanted to go out every single day.

“Let’s stop by the magicians’ dining hall first.”

With a wave of his hand, a guard promptly brought round a carriage. Linley climbed aboard, and the driver set off toward the dining hall.

Though it was only five hundred meters away—a mere few minutes’ walk—Linley insisted on taking the carriage. Why? Because lately, he was reveling in his status.

Ever since he’d accidentally pushed someone last time, the old men dared not approach him recklessly. Linley was overjoyed, feeling as if the whole world had grown bright.

He fully embraced the lifestyle of a pampered second son, squandering his days in idleness. Three maids attended him at all times; he walked with an air of authority, and regardless of how short the distance, he demanded the carriage.

He was brimming with energy, so much so that sitting in the carriage felt less like being carried by the horses than as if he were carrying the carriage himself.

The carriage stopped before the dining hall. Linley alighted, his three maids carrying his long cloak in his wake, swaggering into the magicians’ dining hall.

“A good afternoon to you all!” he called out, waving grandly to the magicians as if on an inspection tour.

The magicians looked at him with grim, wary faces. This little prince was getting far too bold. In the past, he would have avoided them at all costs, never daring to show himself openly. Things were different now—he strutted about with impunity.

“Brother Shen, you’re eating well! Ah, these meat buns smell delicious—let me have one. Too much fat here, you’ll put on weight; better stick to the vegetable buns!” he said cheerfully.

“Ah, isn’t that Father Christmas? You’re out of the infirmary at last—long time no see! Come, you must shake my hand!”

“Bluebeard, what’s that egg you have? What’s that, a rare dragon egg? I must see it for myself—I’ve never tasted dragon egg before!”

Linley, all warmth and bonhomie, ingratiated himself with the magicians—snatching buns, offering greasy handshakes, and, worst of all, making off with a magician’s dragon egg. Wherever he went, chaos followed; the magicians scattered like frightened birds.

“Please—please keep your distance, Your Highness!”

“Compose yourself, Your Highness!”

Watching their peers fall prey to his mischief, the remaining magicians quickly shoveled down their food and fled the scene—if they couldn’t defeat him, at least they could avoid him.

No one dared confront Linley now; he was like a walking monster, his strength overwhelming their frail bodies.

“Don’t rush, everyone! Don’t stand on ceremony! I’ll visit your laboratories tomorrow!” Linley called after them, his eyes crinkling with laughter.

Truly, as the ancients said, a strong body is the foundation of all endeavors!

He now understood why those old men had never feared him before—it was simply because he’d been weak, no more threatening than a lamb. So they acted without restraint, even disturbing his sleep without qualms.

Now, though, the tables had turned! Linley was so elated he felt he might soar into the sky. He resolved to work even harder to become taller, stronger, and tougher—so those old men would never dare approach him again.

That afternoon, the Royal Magicians’ Association convened an emergency meeting.

“Damn it, did you see the way his nose was in the air?”

“We can’t even eat in peace anymore!”

“He said he’ll visit our laboratories tomorrow!”

“He clearly means to rob us!”

One after another, the magicians voiced their indignation at Linley.

“We can’t put up with this any longer!”

“If this goes on, the Association’s dignity will be in ruins. We must curb his behavior—even if it means delaying access to the cultivation array, he needs to be taught a lesson!”

“But... we can’t bully a child with magic, nor harm His Highness. Without magic, who among us can discipline him? His fists are too much for us!”

A heavy silence fell. After all, Linley was still a prince.

If not for his royal status, they’d have already put him in his place. But with his noble birth, even the most liberal king would never tolerate the magicians laying a hand on his son—that would be an affront to the royal family’s dignity. Especially since the crown prince doted on his younger brother, and his strength was fathomless—crossing him would bring nothing but disaster.

“We must teach him a lesson, but we can’t use magic—it’s truly a dilemma!” the magicians lamented.

At that moment, the blue-bearded old man gritted his teeth and said, “I have an idea.”

All eyes turned to him, suddenly bright with hope.

“We heard your dragon egg was stolen, Bluebeard?”

“You’ve collected all sorts of strange and rare creatures, haven’t you? Surely you have something suitable?”

They all knew Linley had stolen his dragon egg earlier that day. Bluebeard was only a nickname—Linley had given many of the royal magicians such monikers, some of them rather creative, and over time the others had adopted them.

This elven magician, with his blue beard, kept many rare creatures. Surely, among them, there was something that wouldn’t harm Linley but would make him thoroughly miserable.

“I have a winged serpent,” Bluebeard announced, deciding to use his most prized possession.

“What! You actually have a winged serpent?”

The magicians were astounded.

“So that legendary creature really exists!”

“Incredible—even the name fills me with dread!”

The winged serpent was a creature without venom, but unspeakably cruel. Anyone bitten by it would be left with unforgettable pain—perfect for dealing with Linley.

Bluebeard stood up. “I can’t wait any longer. I want to act now.”

“Go for it!” the magicians encouraged him, whispering excitedly.

“A winged serpent!”

“The little prince is finished now!”

“That thing is terrifying—it might leave him with a lifelong trauma!”

“It serves him right!”

Returning to his laboratory, Bluebeard found a handsome boy of twelve or thirteen feeding the various creatures—a highly talented apprentice. Bluebeard instructed him to open the winged serpent’s cage.

“Master, are you really going to let this adorable serpent bite the little prince?”

The apprentice picked up the winged serpent—named a serpent, but in truth, it was charmingly cute, with two pairs of wings, an eagle’s head, and bright, curious eyes. As the apprentice stroked its head, it fluttered its wings affectionately.

“So cute...” The apprentice couldn’t help but pet it a few more times.

“Be gentle with it—don’t let it bite you,” Bluebeard warned. “This is one of the most terrifying creatures on the continent.”

So cruel was the winged serpent, even Bluebeard shuddered at the thought.

But he had to use his most insidious trick to retrieve his dragon egg—it wasn't any ordinary egg, but the last azure dragon egg in existence, one he’d spent thirty years finding. If he could hatch it, perhaps he could use special means to restore the dragon clan.

The young apprentice, unfamiliar with the winged serpent’s reputation, worried aloud, “If it’s so terrifying, what will happen to the little prince if it bites him?”

Bluebeard let out a cold laugh. “He’ll get diarrhea.”

“What?” The apprentice was stunned. “Diarrhea isn’t so scary!”

“Not scary?” Bluebeard gave his apprentice a look of utter exasperation. “What if it lasts for four whole days and nights?”

“Four days and five nights!”

The fair, tender apprentice winced at the thought—even just imagining four days of diarrhea made his legs go weak.

The winged serpent was indeed terrifying. If the little prince were bitten, the magicians would have an endless source of mockery for the rest of his life.

“Master, isn’t this a bit too much?” the apprentice asked, growing more anxious as they approached Linley’s chambers.

“I must retrieve the egg before he eats it, or it’ll be too late,” Bluebeard replied through gritted teeth.

“But Master, it’s a treasure—His Highness loves money above all, he surely wouldn’t actually eat it.”

“You’re far too young!” Bluebeard suddenly stopped, seized the boy’s shoulders, and fixed him with a deadly stare. “Remember this—never, ever try to predict His Highness’s actions with common sense!”

This was the bitter wisdom of long years.

The apprentice, cowed by his master’s fearsome gaze, nodded blankly.

Ten minutes later, the two arrived outside Linley’s bedchamber. Peering in, they saw Linley performing some odd movements, alone in the room.

“Master, what is the prince doing?”

“Calisthenics.”

“What are calisthenics?”

“How would I know? That’s something His Highness invented himself!” The old magician took the winged serpent from his apprentice, whispered a few instructions in the serpent’s tongue, and pointed to Linley in the room. Once the winged serpent nodded, he quietly released it through the window.

“Let’s go hide,” Bluebeard chuckled, pulling his apprentice into the shrubbery and casting an invisibility spell over them. “I’ve raised this winged serpent for ten years—it’s clever and discreet. No one, not even the king, will ever find evidence against me!”

They settled in to wait, but after half an hour, nothing happened. The winged serpent had not returned.

“This feels strangely familiar...” Bluebeard’s teeth chattered in the snow. Crouching down, he recalled the last time Linley had given him the slip. Could it be happening again?

The apprentice suddenly sniffed the air. “Master, do you smell something delicious?”

“Do I?” Bluebeard’s nose was numb from the cold.

“Definitely—it’s coming from His Highness’s room!” the apprentice insisted.

Bluebeard was skeptical, but after another two minutes, the cold became unbearable. They crept to the window and peered inside, only to see Linley squatting on the floor with three maids, making soup.

“Your Highness, there aren’t any snakes in the palace—where did you catch this one?”

“It wasn’t me. Someone must have delivered it to my room—how thoughtful! How did they know my tastes?”

The soup was boiling. Linley picked out a long, winding something with his chopsticks. “Smells wonderful—this one’s mine, no fighting.”

The apprentice’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. Wasn’t that the very winged serpent they’d just sent in?

The once adorable creature now floated lifelessly in the bubbling broth.

“You killed my winged serpent!” Bluebeard could restrain himself no longer. With a heartbroken wail, he tried to rush in, but his apprentice grabbed him in panic. “Master, don’t be rash!”

He clapped his hand over Bluebeard’s mouth.

“What was that sound?” Linley walked to the window and looked out. Aside from a few odd, floating snowballs, he saw nothing.

He tore off a piece of snake meat, chewing thoughtfully. “Must be my imagination. No magician would dare approach... Hm, this snake has a lot of bones.”

Returning inside, the apprentice shivered—how terrifying! The little prince was exactly as the stories described: pitiless, killing snakes without a second thought.

“Master?” he ventured, looking to Bluebeard, who was by now in tears, his face a mask of utter despair.

“It’s all right, Master. Let’s go back and think of another way to steal the dragon egg!” the apprentice tried to comfort him, helping the old magician up. But as he glanced into the room, he froze.

“This snake meat is too dry—much better with this,” Linley said, stabbing a straw into a huge egg and drinking from it. “Delicious! So dragon eggs taste like coconut jelly—I'll have to eat more of these in the future.”

The apprentice saw clearly—it was a blue dragon egg.

He swallowed hard. “No, it can’t be... How could anyone eat a dragon egg!”

“Master, do you—” Before he could finish, he turned and saw that Bluebeard had already fainted, foaming at the mouth.

“Master!”

Thus, the world’s last azure dragon was consumed by Linley.