Single Mother of a Werewolf Baby
Chapter 150: The Dragons
CHAPTER 150: THE DRAGONS
The owner of the Vest of the Mytherial Moon was none other than the Grand Elder of the dragons. She was a female dragon who had lived on Earth for several millennia and was the oldest among the elders of the Dragon Council.
Dragons, though powerful, were fewer in number compared to other supernatural races. They did not have clans like werewolves or vampires; rather, they lived as a united family. A governing council managed their affairs both internally and in relation to the outside world. This council was composed of the ten most powerful dragons, each known as an Elder. Among them, one was chosen as the leader of the dragons. While the Grand Elder was not the most powerful, she was the most respected due to her age, wisdom, and because she was the mother of the current Dragon Leader.
In ancient times, dragons roamed freely across the world. They required vast amounts of food and expansive territories to survive. Over time, their numbers declined for various reasons, chief among them being a low birth rate and food scarcity. When Yggdrasil offered them sanctuary, many migrated to Kvernheim. This underground haven provided everything needed for the survival of each dragon type. They settled throughout the outer regions of Kvernheim, choosing habitats suited to their origins and nature.
The Horned Dragons of North America originally dwelled in the lakes and cold rivers of Canada and the northern United States. These serpentine dragons had polished stone-like scales, two powerful hind legs, and no wings. Their twin ivory horns curled majestically from their heads, symbols of their aquatic supremacy. Though flightless, they reigned supreme in water, commanding fog, currents, and rainstorms. Known for their calm demeanor, they were rarely aggressive but devastating when provoked.
From China’s misty mountains came the Long Dragons. Ancient and wingless, they glided through the skies like clouds drifting in wind. Their elongated bodies shimmered with scales of gold, green, or blue. Adorned with flowing whiskers and antler-like horns, they controlled wind and weather with ease. Monsoons, tempests, and clear skies bowed to their will. High-altitude mountain peaks, sacred groves, and floating stone platforms were once their homes, hidden from the human eye.
Ryujin Dragons, hailing from Japan, ruled the oceans from the deep. Their scales mirrored the sea—teal, indigo, and black—and often bore coral, seaweed, and barnacles. Their glowing red eyes pierced the ocean gloom. With long, muscular bodies and no wings, they commanded tides and marine weather. Capable of sinking fleets or calming tsunamis, they once lived in submerged palaces near undersea ridges and volcanic vents. In Kvernheim, they now inhabit a vast volcanic lake.
The Imoogi Dragons of Korea were massive, wingless serpents with no limbs. Their iridescent scales shifted colors with the light, and luminous horns crowned their heads. Unique among dragons, Imoogis were evolving beings. Only upon reaching the ascendant level and crossing into the other world did they attain their full form. They dwelled near sacred rivers, storm-battered cliffs, and geomantic hotspots, quietly gathering strength.
Across the British Isles lived the Wyrms. Winged dragons with four clawed legs, they breathed fire and had bronze-like scales. Spiked bone ridges lined their backs, and their crushing tails made them formidable in battle. Among all dragons, Wyrms were the most physically aggressive. They once ruled mountain ranges and ancient ruins, guarding hoards of treasure and relics. Their memory was legendary; they never forgot a grudge.
Tarasque Dragons inhabited the swamps and riverlands of southern France. With six powerful legs, a lion’s head, crocodilian tail, and a turtle-like shell, they were strange yet formidable. Though massive, they moved with eerie stealth. Instead of fire, they emitted a magical suppression field, weakening nearby spells and enchantments. They preferred deep marshes and vine-entangled caves, thriving in stillness and ambush.
Fafnirkin hailed from the volcanic mountains of Germany and Scandinavia. Walking upright on two legs, their bodies were cloaked in dark metallic scales etched with glowing runes. Jagged tusks and molten-gold breath marked their terrifying presence. Drawn to precious and spiritually significant items, Fafnirkin embodied greed. They rarely left their fiery lairs unless disturbed, their endurance and combat prowess nearly unmatched.
In Egypt’s sun-scorched deserts, beneath ever-shifting dunes, lived the Apep Dragons. Their black scales were etched with glowing hieroglyphs that pulsed with chaotic energy. Limbless and wingless, they moved like living sandstorms, bringing storms and disorder in their wake. Their breath twisted weather and corrupted order. Once rulers of hidden ruins, they now inhabit Kvernheim’s vast desert zones.
The Rainbow Dragons of Australia were unlike any other. Their forms constantly shifted in color and shape, shimmering with the full spectrum of light. Sometimes two-headed, sometimes endlessly long, they were unpredictable and dreamlike. These dragons slept beneath deep rivers, awakening only to feed or when disturbed. Masters of water and weather, their breath could summon rainfall. Not bred for war, Rainbow Dragons embodied natural power—peaceful when calm, cataclysmic when enraged.
Together, these dragon types formed the extended family that now resided in Kvernheim, surrounding the sanctuary of Yggdrasil and coexisting under an ancient pact of mutual respect and preservation.
The grand Elder of the dragons, Meiyara Long, personally interviewed all those who had submitted serious barter offers for the Vest of the Mytherial Moon. Among the selected individuals were Erevan Brontes Lychos, the King of Werewolves, and Fiona Elizabeth Raynor of the Raynor Clan. Each candidate presented their proposal, discussed the item they were offering in return, and explained its significance.
Nearly half an hour after the initial round of interviews, Meiyara requested to meet Erevan again in private. Her message was brief, but her tone implied urgency and curiosity.
Inside the secluded chamber provided by the auction house, Erevan greeted her respectfully.
"Greetings, Lady Long," he said with a light bow.
The grand elder offered a curt nod in return. "Greetings, Lord Lychos. Let’s not waste time. I’m quite interested in knowing why you believe the ailment I seek a cure for is related to abyssal corruption?"
Erevan took a deep breath before replying. "I’m not certain," he admitted honestly. "But you reside near the fairies and Yggdrasil itself. If they could help you, I doubt you’d be offering up a priceless artifact that has remained hidden from even someone like me, the King of Werewolves. That tells me whatever afflicts your patient lies beyond the healing powers of both fairies and the World Tree. And as far as I know, only one force lies beyond their reach... the abyss."
The Grand Elder studied him silently for a few seconds. "You assume much."
"I do. But I believe logic supports it," Erevan replied calmly. "You wouldn’t part with such a treasured heirloom unless the situation was desperate. Even I, a king, had never heard of that armour before today. That level of secrecy, combined with the value of the vest, implies it is your trump card... and using it tells me you are racing against time."
Meiyara narrowed her eyes slightly, but there was no anger in her expression... only recognition. "You are quite perceptive for a newly crowned king, Lord Erevan Brontes Lychos. I admire your clarity of thought."
He Inclined his head slightly in thanks.
After a long pause, she added, "Can you confirm that the ritual will indeed be attempted? I presume the ritual would fall under the jurisdiction of the Werewolf Priest? Are you certain she would dare to meddle with abyssal energy?"
"I believe so," Erevan replied without hesitation. "If you provide the essential materials... specifically, one thousand low-grade spirit crystals... I’ll ensure she agrees. The promise of some... strategic benefits should be enough to earn her cooperation."
He paused before continuing, "I won’t claim one hundred percent certainty in success, but I am confident that she can restore the soul. There may be side effects, like partial memory loss, and the ritual will demand a price. But it will not endanger the patient’s life."
Meiyara exhaled deeply, some tension leaving her shoulders. "If what you say is true, then I am willing to take that risk."
She leaned slightly forward. "But you mentioned memory loss. Are you certain there will be no fatal consequences?"
Erevan nodded. "Absolutely. No mortal danger... only the usual spiritual backlash that comes from ancient rituals but that was on who was performing the ritual. But you must agree to one condition... the patient must be brought to our Priest’s temple. She never performs rituals outside her own grounds. That is non-negotiable."
"I understand," Meiyara said, her voice steady. "Please inform me of the exact coordinates or location as soon as possible. The patient’s condition deteriorates more each day, and time is critical. I will arrive with the crystals and the patient. If your Priest succeeds, you will receive the vest. If not, I will move on to the next best offer."
Erevan nodded in acceptance. "That is fair."
Then, he offered a small but firm smile. "And by the way, although my official coronation was delayed, I’ve been ruling the werewolves in practice for over thirty years. You may not know Erevan Brontes Lychos well, but you can trust the word of the King of Werewolves. When I make a promise, I fulfil it."
That made Meiyara’s lips twitch faintly... perhaps the smallest sign of a smirk or the flicker of something more complicated, but she said nothing.
Before she could respond, Erevan stood and gave her one final bow. "Farewell, Lady Long. I look forward to seeing you again soon."
Without waiting for her to speak further, he turned and exited the chamber.
Outside the auction room, Fiona Elizabeth Raynor and his entourage were waiting patiently. Fiona raised an eyebrow as he approached but didn’t ask anything.
Erevan gave a small nod, signaling that everything had gone well, and walked past them. His followers fell in step behind him, and together they departed the auction house... each of them wondering just what kind of trade their king had managed to negotiate behind closed doors.