The branches carbonized in the flames, turning into ashes, scattered and rose to mid-air. Under the night sky, the warm flames soaked into everyone's heart, and the bright orange light elongated each person's shadow. It seemed like an ancient ballad was hidden within the firelight, casting deep, ink-dark shadows intertwined in the depths of the Mangrove Forest.

The flickering flames reflected everyone's expressions—Gita habitually bit her lip, her brow furrowed slightly, Tianlan wore an expression of curiosity, Luo Yu was distracted, absorbed in his thoughts. The Elf girl was focused, occasionally turning her head to check the situation outside the Mangrove Forest.

Parker alone, clutching his boots, squinted his dark bean eyes, his head nodding off in pecking motions before suddenly jolting awake, looking around frantically.

Mazak's skin glowed bronze in the firelight, and the patterns on his cheekbones were more pronounced. His expression was grave as he stared unwaveringly at the bonfire before him, his gaze seeming to penetrate the flickering flames, envisioning all the stories that occurred in that bygone era.

He gently rubbed the sharp blade of Galapea with his finger, responding with a coarse touch. The atmosphere fell silent for a moment, a spark 'cracked' open, and beyond, the Mangrove Forest remained quiet while the sounds of insects echoed from afar.

In the darkness, an occasional splash of water diverted everyone's attention.

Mazak set down his sword, laying the blade across his lap before he slowly started to speak. His voice was deep and soothing, as if he wasn't recounting but recalling—a recollection of a story from a distant era.

"The beginning of this story should date back to the era of the Giant Wars, a catastrophe that occurred at the end of the Magic Era. The second Star of Calamity, Verdant, descended upon Aithelin, bringing forth the Calamity of Aithelin—the Giants and the Dark Giant Dragon."

That was a piece of history known to all.

Fang Hong silently nodded.

To confront the Star of Calamity—Elves, Dwarves, and Humans set aside past grievances, for the first time standing together, forming an alliance to battle the Star of Calamity on the plains of Azta. In this decisive battle, Elves and Dwarves jointly shattered the Giants' delusions of invading Hailin, while the humans aimed at the King of Dark Giant Dragon—Lifegard.

In contrast, the several Mortal Kingdoms of Aithelin were but a loose collective of city-states, a newcomer during that era, compared to the ancient Numelin Elves and the Dwarf Kingdom that boasted the legendary hero Solingaos.

These weak mortals seemed no match for the powerful Dark Giant Dragon, let alone the internal instabilities within, with several kingdoms corrupted and fallen, having become vassals to the Dark Giant Dragon.

However, when it mattered most, the mortals sacrificed. A brave group of humans chose to drink the Blood of the Demon Dragon, swearing an oath to be eternal enemies of the Dark Giant Dragon, a battle to the death—their descendants later became the forebears of the Oathkeepers.

The mortals also received help from Fairies, who forged five Dragon Slaying Swords using the Root of Ethers and Cold Steel, gifting them to that era's most outstanding human heroes.

It was one of these five Dragon Slaying Swords that eventually slew Lifegard, drank deep of the Dragon King's Blood, bringing the Golden Star Fire to dust, and put an end to the Calamity of Aithelin.

In the eras that followed, the five swords passed down through generations among the Oathkeepers, and the Sword Bearers always adhered to the ancient oath, until the last Dark Giant Dragon fell in the Swamp of Dead seven hundred years ago. Since then, the Oathkeepers disappeared from sight, leaving behind only the legend of the Dragon Slayer and their ancient Adage.

Do not forget the fallen enemy—

"...My ancestors," Mazak continued slowly, the flames flickering as if reflecting in his dark eyes, "were descendants of the bearer of Galapea; and to this day, our bloodline still carries the Blood of the Demon Dragon. But the glory of the past has now become the source of profound pain.

The Curse of Dragon Blood persists as an unshakable gloom within our clan, the Dragon's Power growing with age, and once we fail to control our power, we turn into beings that are dragon-like but not dragons—"

"Those Dragonmen?" Fang Hong suddenly asked.

Mazak nodded.

"Minions of the Dragon, but there are even more terrifying forms," the tall man replied in a low voice, extremely calm, yet as if narrating something entirely natural, yet the content was hair-raising, "You can only watch helplessly as people you know daily—neighbors, friends, kin, even loved ones—suddenly transform into those irrational monsters."

"...There are no signs before it happens, nor is it reversible. Once everything unfolds, your only choices are to kill it, or be killed by it. For centuries, we have all been accepting this destiny; it seems we had long grown accustomed to it. But it was about half a century ago—when that prophecy came true."

Everyone was silently stunned, with only the crackling pop of sparks; no one anticipated hearing such a tale.

Fang Hong had an inkling, but still couldn't help asking, "That prophecy?"

Mazak looked at him and answered, "The enemy long gone has come back once again."

The voice was like a chill breeze, causing even the flames to dull slightly, making everyone involuntarily shiver.

The area around the campfire was quiet; the tall man gently stroked the glinting blade before he slowly added, "After the battle at the Swamp of Dead, my people returned to Istania to live in seclusion. In the Kingdom of the Silver Sand Sea, life was not peaceful but stable for six hundred years.

But since the last rise of the Moon of Hailin, the power of the Dragon Blood had noticeably become more active. It was also around that time that a baby girl was born in our clan, named Evril Nicopolis—"

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