Chapter 20: Half-Bloods

"Dragons?" Lin Nian repeated. Before he could react, Professor Manstein clapped his hands. Finn, who had changed into the same school uniform as Lin Nian and Lin Xian and had been waiting by the oil painting, gave a sudden flick of his wrist, ripping the canvas off the easel beside him.

In an instant, Lin Nian caught sight of the hideous creature lurking in the shadows. It felt as if someone had shoved him, pinning him firmly against the leather seat.

It was the sheer pressure radiating from the painting.

On the canvas, the sky was a bruised iron-gray, streaked with the colors of fire. A single gargantuan tree stood, its dead branches reaching out in all directions, weaving a dense web that held up the fractured sky. The wasteland was littered with bleached bones, and from the depths of the skeletal pile, a black, monstrous beast was rising. Its wings were draped with skulls; as it unfurled its massive, membrane-like wings, it roared toward the heavens, spewing black flames.

*Dragon.*

The word sprang into his mind the moment he saw the creature in the painting. He could vaguely hear something hissing and bellowing; the fury flowed across the canvas like molten lava. The gold in the dragon's eyes shone with such intensity—like wet paint struck by direct sunlight—that it created the illusion that the painting was alive.

"The Dragon Emperor, Nidhogg. The culprit in Norse mythology who gnawed at the World Tree. The end of all things, the destroyer of the world." Professor Manstein stood before the canvas, gazing at it with a glass of red wine in his hand. "For thousands of years, our countless generations have sought this target. They hide in the shadows of human history. They were once the creators, the pioneers, and the monarchs of this world. They wrote the true history, while we humans have played, at best, the roles of fire-stealers and servants."

"Is this some kind of tradition? Do you call this an orientation session?" Lin Nian asked in a hushed voice, unable to tear his eyes away from the stunning, terrifying painting.

Professor Manstein walked over to a bookshelf against the wall. "Didn't you ask what specific majors our college offers? We can tell you now: our primary subject is the study of 'Dragons,' from which countless disciplines are derived, such as Alchemy Engineering, Magitech Design, and Draconic Genealogy."

"Although our college is a legitimate university registered with the U.S. Department of Education, we use our own self-compiled textbooks." Manstein pulled a book and placed it in front of Lin Nian. Upon picking it up, Lin Nian noticed that the language on the cover was still written in Latin.

"Why Latin?" Lin Nian traced the uneven, weathered cover with his finger, feeling the traces of its age.

"Because we believe that learning Latin is more conducive to understanding the language of the dragons," Professor Manstein replied.

"Latin is a dead language; no one uses it as their mother tongue anymore. So, can I assume that the 'dragons' you mention are just as extinct as Latin? That you are actually a group of archaeologists who have discovered a 'dinosaur civilization'?" Lin Xian took the book from Lin Nian, examining the cover closely.

"Extinct? No, the dragon race is not extinct. On the contrary, they are awakening!" Professor Manstein said. "The book you are holding is called *Draconic Genealogy*. Its author is the principal of our Cassel College. It is also an elective course for freshmen; the credits earned upon passing are quite substantial."

"Hilbert von Ange—is that our principal's name?" Lin Nian found the silver-embossed, cursive name on the spine of the book.

"Yes, Principal Ange. The greatest educator and thinker of the century... as well as a dragon slayer." Manstein’s face was filled with praise. Lin Nian could see the involuntary overflow of respect and reverence on his face; it seemed this Hilbert von Ange held an extraordinary level of prestige within the college.

However, that was not his current focus.

"You said our principal is a dragon slayer? A *dragon slayer*? Is that the word I think it is?" Lin Nian asked, stunned.

"Did I forget to mention that?" Professor Manstein smiled. "Our purpose in searching for dragons for thousands of years is not merely to worship or revere them, nor simply to prove their existence—the existence of dragons does not require our proof. On the contrary, we aim to eradicate them, to wipe them out. Therefore, the greatest subject at Cassel College has always been—dragon slaying!"

Professor Manstein’s words landed with a heavy thud. As the words "dragon slaying" escaped his lips, they resonated through his chest and abdomen, the sound echoing endlessly through the carriage, deafening and profound.

After a long silence, Lin Nian set down *Draconic Genealogy* and looked up at Manstein. "Before we reached the Chicago train station, Senior Finn said that you and another professor named Guderian were fellow patients in a mental hospital. I didn't believe it before, but now, I’m starting to."

Manstein paused, blindsided by the sudden retort. It took him a moment to turn toward Finn. "Did you really say that?"

Finn also froze, reflexively answering, "I was just making conversation... Professor Guderian told me when he was drunk last time. He said you were his fellow patient!"

"Fellow patient? What the hell—do you have any idea how irresponsible such remarks are? They destroy a freshman’s first impression of our college! Freshman orientation is hard enough as it is without you making trouble. I knew I shouldn't have let you pick up Lin Nian and the others! I should have had Mandy take leave and come myself!" Manstein raged.

"If she had come, the junior wouldn't be able to graduate. Her GPA is already barely hanging on after being docked so much under your watch," Finn muttered.

"But Professor," Lin Nian raised the book in his hand, his voice neither too loud nor too soft. "I didn't say I didn't believe you entirely."

"You mean you are willing to believe us?" Manstein paused, his expression suddenly softening.

"No, belief should be built upon a foundation. After all, what we are discussing is far too surreal. If I just said I believed in the existence of 'dragons,' you would likely think I was just humoring you." Lin Nian flipped through the Latin-filled book. "But assuming everything you said is true—that such legendary creatures really exist—surely you must have 'examples' or 'evidence' to convince me?"

"We do," Manstein nodded. "After arriving at the college, I can take you to see some artifacts. Those artifacts are the best proof of the dragon civilization's existence. Once you see those perfect creations that are beyond human reach, you will believe in them completely."

"I have yet to verify that. But Professor, you said the mission of Cassel College is dragon slaying." Lin Nian processed this information and looked up. "On what basis?"

"What do you mean, 'on what basis'?" Professor Manstein didn't quite grasp Lin Nian's meaning.

"The methods of dragon slaying. In any fantasy literature, dragons are incredibly powerful species. To kill a dragon, don't you need to rely on—machine guns and heavy artillery? Or fighter jets and tanks? So, is Cassel College actually a military academy? Are you backed by the United Nations or the Security Council?" Lin Nian deduced, based on his own understanding of the world and the current hypothesis.

"I am gratified that you didn't outright dismiss the existence of dragons and that you were able to think of so many things and raise questions. It shows that you are a calm person with a rational mind." Professor Manstein nodded. "We are not supported by the power of any single nation. Our group is called the 'Secret Party.' In the past, the Secret Party was composed of families of 'blood descendants.' For thousands of years, they kept this secret and shouldered the heavy burden of dragon slaying, sending their descendants to the battlefield to protect the secret of the dragons. We believe that if the secret of the dragon race were to leak, it would cause irreversible harm to the world."

"So you hold the secret to yourselves, but that is foolish. Cooperating with the United Nations would allow for the maximum utilization of human resources and scientific research. Can't the power of modern weaponry deal with these so-called 'dragons'?" Lin Nian shook his head.

"Do not think about a problem from a one-sided perspective. As they say in your hometown, 'a leaf before the eye hides the mountain.'" Manstein held up a finger, his expression grave. "You do not understand what kind of existence the 'dragon race' truly is. To deal with them, thermal weapons are naturally an essential aid. But thermal weapons alone are not enough. That is why, on the basis of thermal weapons, we have developed even more powerful alchemical weapons! However, the truly important factor is the people wielding those weapons."

"Are the students of Cassel College all reserve dragon-slaying warriors?" Lin Nian reached this startling conclusion.

"You could say that, but we collectively refer to ourselves as the Secret Party," Professor Manstein said. "What the Secret Party seeks are those who possess the aptitude for dragon slaying—do you remember how I evaluated you earlier?"

*Exceptional.*

The word surfaced in Lin Nian's mind.

He fell into a sudden silence, only speaking after a long while. "When did you find me?"

"I only received news of your existence recently. I didn't know you before this, but there are those among us who have been watching you all along," Manstein said softly. "Perhaps you think your 'innate talent' since childhood was a genetic mutation, but it isn't. For people like us, there is only one word that can define us."

Watching Lin Nian, who was staring intently at him, Manstein spoke slowly.

" 'Hybrids.' "