Perched in the tree canopy, the young dragon tilted his head and listened to the humans' conversation.
Gradually, he pieced together what was going on.
"Abandoned folk."
Not in the biblical sense of being forsaken by God — this was literal. They were people who had been abandoned.
The most terrifying thing about plague isn't individual death — it's how easily it spreads.
One death on its own wasn't so frightening. But when one infected many, and many infected a whole region… it could, in the end, bring an entire kingdom to its knees.
And in the ancient days, before people had any real way to contain or treat disease, there was really only one method to deal with a major outbreak:
"Cast them out. Leave them to die on their own."
It sounded cruel — and it was — but it was also, unfortunately, the only viable option. Life might be beyond measure, but when it came down to ten lives versus the survival of an entire tribe, anyone could see which side weighed heavier.
"Besides, Wenna, we were already lucky enough."
"To be able to come to a place like this before the end… A place with sunlight, a grand temple, and fresh salmon."
"I think… the gods have shown us more mercy than we deserve."
The speaker was an elderly man. Like most common folk, he had likely spent the vast majority of his life in a quiet village. But age had distilled something in him — a unique understanding of life, of fate.
After hearing those words, the girl called Wenna fell silent.
She thought back on her memories — though strangely, everything from her village life had gone blurry. She could barely recall the details anymore.
What she could remember was the desperation: dragging her feverish body alongside her fellow villagers up a muddy mountain path… and, during one of their half-delirious wanderings, stumbling upon this place bathed in sunlight — and a pond teeming with large, freely swimming fish.
That fish soup… was the best thing I ever tasted.
"If I could… I'd really love to have another bowl."
Clutching that fading desire, Wenna — her strength almost completely spent — finally lay down on the hillside. No more struggle. No more resistance.
Just as the old man had said.
If you had to choose a way to die… falling asleep in the sunlight might be the gentlest, happiest kind of death.
"O gods…"
"Please forgive our sins."
…
The world fell still.
Everyone lay sprawled on the ground, unmoving, awaiting the final moment.
Each of them could feel their life ebbing away — faster now, a steady drain. Their vision dimmed. Breathing grew heavy.
In the end, they couldn't even summon the strength to open their eyes.
If not for the faint, halting rhythm of their breaths, the young dragon might have thought they were already dead.
They're not gone yet… but they're getting close.
Ugh. What a damn mess.
Once he was sure none of them were moving, Bluey finally emerged from the treetop, descending to the ground to examine them up close.
—He shook his head as he looked them over.
There was no doubt: these humans were on the verge of death. And honestly, he didn't feel any particular pity about it.
But still… couldn't they die somewhere else?! Not right outside my house!
It was like a group of homeless strangers had broken into your home, eaten everything in the fridge — and now they were lying on the living room floor looking ready to die.
Sure, technically it didn't ruin the property. But the owner would still be left with a deep sense of discomfort. And that lingering disgust might even sour how he felt about his beautiful new home.
"So, should I save them?"
"No… the real question is, can I save them?"
Frustrated at his own helplessness, Bluey scratched his head. He wanted to do something, but as far as he could remember, none of his inherited powers included a skill like "Cure Disease."
[No, Host. Actually, you do.]
"Huh? I do? Where?"
["Twelve Uses for Dragon Blood", by Arito and Nicolas Flamel — co-authored.]
"…"
Bluey stared blankly. For a moment, he'd thought the system was just a heartless tool.
But now it seemed… it told jokes?
[In fact, dragon blood is one of the most potent magical elixirs known to the world. It can drastically improve human physicality — to the point of triggering 'monstrification.' Across global mythology, there are countless tales of heroes who bathed in dragon blood to gain supernatural might.]
[Of course, some of them ended up becoming dragons themselves.]
"Wait, seriously? You weren't joking?"
[Ding. Would Host like me to tell a dragon blood joke? Here's one about Dumbledore…]
[According to some sources, Dumbledore once discovered a thirteenth use for dragon blood while visiting the Far East: tofu made with dragon blood…]
"Stop. That's enough. We're done here."
…
Bluey hesitated.
But looking at the humans, their breath already down to the faintest flicker, he clenched his claw and steeled himself. No way was he letting his front lawn turn into a graveyard.
He pierced his own scale with a claw, letting a few drops of fresh dragon blood fall.
—But he couldn't give it to them directly.
As the system had said, dragon blood was both a miracle elixir and a violent curse. It could drastically improve a person's body, yes — but it could also start rewriting their very essence, pushing their bloodline toward something… draconic.
Bluey wasn't trying to build his own half-dragon entourage. He just wanted these humans to go die somewhere else.
So he dropped the blood into the pond, diluting it tens of thousands of times over.
Then, he dragged the one who looked the least sick — that girl, Wenna — and tossed her straight into the water.
"I've done my part."
"Whether you live or not… that's up to you."
---
T/N: omg is she gonan become the blue white eyes maiden