Chapter 346: The Dragon Spawn

The Grandmaster was shocked to hear the term. "A Dragon Spawn? Doesn’t that mean the birth of a brand new dragon?"

"The title of Dragon Spawn encompasses three distinct possibilities," the crimson dragon explained, its tone dripping with wisdom and pride. "It refers to the trueborn child of a dragon. Or, it refers to a mortal child who was either completely bathed in a dragon’s blood or nourished by a dragon’s milk.

Finally, it refers to a mortal child who has been deeply, fundamentally blessed by a dragon’s soul. Therefore, a Dragon Spawn could be any one of those three, or a combination of them all. The magical effects and the resulting scent can stack upon the host."

The Grandmaster furrowed his brow, deeply curious. "What did the elders of the other tribes say about it?"

"They claimed ignorance," the dragon snorted, a puff of smoke escaping its nostrils. "None of the recognized tribes have sired a child, spilled their vital blood, or bestowed a soul blessing upon a mortal within the last several decades."

The Grandmaster grew even more confused by the mystery. "If none of the recognized tribes are responsible, then how could the scent possibly exist on a student?"

"That remains a profound mystery," the dragon admitted, shifting its massive wings. "However, there is one logical possibility. The scent originates from a dragon who does not reside among our gathered councils."

"According to the ancient pacts, all living dragons are strictly required to attend the Dragon Summit whenever the call is issued by an elder," the Grandmaster muttered, recalling his historical studies. "That mandate applies to all draconic bloodlines. So who could possibly ignore the summons?"

"A Primordial Dragon," the beast answered reverently. "The ancient progenitors are not bound by the trivial laws of our summits."

The Grandmaster widened his eyes. "Does that mean the Dragon Spawn is directly related to either the White Dragon of the Heavens or the Black Dragon of the Abyss?"

"It could be one of them," the crimson dragon rumbled slowly. "Or... it could be related to the third, forgotten Primordial bloodline. The Silver Dragon."

"The Silver Dragon?!" the Grandmaster exclaimed, completely losing his professional composure. "Were they not declared entirely extinct millennia ago? There is absolutely no viable information regarding their existence in any of the imperial encyclopedias or the academy’s forbidden archives!"

"Every draconic bloodline possesses unique, innate powers that other tribes do not," the dragon explained, ignoring the outburst. "Except for the Primordials, who can wield multiple elemental affinities and true magic. But the Silver Dragons were different. They did not possess destructive breath weapons or elemental dominion. Instead, their unique ability was flawless Polymorph. They could shift into a perfect human form."

"Do all dragons not possess the ability to Polymorph?" the Grandmaster stated the obvious, gesturing to the beast’s current form. "Except, you never do."

"We are theoretically capable of it, yes," the dragon corrected, its tone laced with a hint of bitter frustration. "But the magical conversion is incredibly agonizing and tremendously difficult to maintain. I am over twelve hundred years old, and I still cannot achieve a human form.

Even when an elder finally achieves that state, they inevitably retain distinct draconic features such as scales on their skin, slit pupils, or horns protruding from their skulls. Furthermore, reverting back to our true form requires immense effort and time."

The dragon lowered its snout closer to the Grandmaster. "But the Silver Dragons were not bound by those restrictions. They could Polymorph at will, maintaining the form for as long as they desired without any magical exhaustion. Their biological control was so absolute, so terrifyingly perfect, that they could exist entirely in a flawless human state, and simply transform a single finger into a dragon claw if they wished."

"This is my very first time hearing any of this," the Grandmaster admitted, utterly fascinated by the lost lore.

"Even I was ignorant of these details," the crimson dragon confessed. "I only learned the truth from the oldest progenitors at the summit I convened."

"Why is this knowledge kept so secret?" the Grandmaster asked. "Why does no one know about their abilities? The mentions of Silver Dragons are completely erased from history. It is as if they never existed at all."

"I do not know the reasons," the dragon rumbled, staring out over the academy grounds. "But if I were to guess as a dragon myself, it is most likely a matter of draconic pride and deep-seated shame. The Silver Dragons lacked traditional destructive powers or terrifying physical characteristics. To the other warlike tribes, they were merely the empty shells of a dragon. Furthermore, their profound love for humanity, and their desire to live peacefully among mortals in their human forms, was viewed as an unforgivable insult to our inherent supremacy."

The Grandmaster took a deep breath, processing the overwhelming implications. He stated the obvious conclusion. "Is the student you originally sensed this scent from... Solomon?"

The crimson dragon nodded its massive head slowly. "Indeed. The scent belongs to the silver-haired boy."

The Grandmaster did not seem overly surprised by the revelation. If Solomon was personally chosen by the Founder, and if he truly was the fabled Millennium Student, then it was already painstakingly obvious just how incredibly special the boy was destined to be.

"Can you tell which of the three specific possibilities applies to Solomon?" the Grandmaster asked, looking up at the ancient beast. "Is he a trueborn child, was he bathed in the blood, or is he simply blessed?"

"It is impossible for me to distinguish the origin of the scent," the crimson dragon rumbled, shaking its massive head. "The lingering essence is far too intertwined with his mortal soul."

The Grandmaster fell into deep thought, desperately trying to recall any recent historical events, intelligence reports, or obscure rumors involving the sudden appearance of a dragon in the mortal realms.

He came up completely empty.

"Since there has been no mention or verified sightings of a Silver Dragon in the last several decades," the Grandmaster reasoned aloud, "that must mean they are living in their human forms, intentionally hiding among the populace because they do not want to be discovered. I wonder if Solomon is actually aware of his draconic connection? I should just ask him directly once he returns."

Just then, the crimson dragon snapped its head up, its golden slit-eyes locking onto the distant horizon of the academy grounds.

"The scent has returned," the beast announced, its nostrils flaring.

The Grandmaster’s eyes lit up with sudden excitement. "That means Solomon is back on campus."