"Ouch," Garrett exclaimed. He immediately looked down at his palm:
Where’s the dragon scale?
The dragon scale? Where is it?!
The dragon scale, pried from the chest of a silver dragon, tear-shaped, half a palm-sized, with one end slightly pointed and the other round. Holding it felt light, and it appeared semi-transparent from the front, while from the side, it shimmered with a moving silver light. Bringing it closer to his eyes, he could see concentric, finely detailed lines emanating from within, exquisitely delicate.
Bernard had pried it off and handed it to him, and he had just... just...
Where had he put it?
Garrett frantically searched. Not in the spatial bag; not in the left pocket of his coat; not in the right pocket; not in the left or right pocket of his pants. He had turned everything inside out in search, but found nothing...
Where on earth had he put it?!
Regardless of where it was placed, considering it was a female dragon, even if it was for a rescue, prying off two scales from her chest and stuffing them in his pocket without returning them...
Garrett felt guilty himself, realizing that whether it was presenting his case to the Magic Council or to Dragon Island (if such a place existed), he would undoubtedly be in the wrong. If this had happened in a hospital in his previous life, there would be no need for words, just prepare to write a self-examination. And if the self-examination wasn’t sincere or thorough, the medical department wouldn’t let you off easily.
And then? Whether he could clear his name depended on the patient and the patient’s family, and how reasonable they were...
How reasonable was this one?
Garrett looked up to see the silver dragon lowering her head, stretching her long neck towards him, staring intently. Her silver-blue eyes sparkled brilliantly, and the spines on the sides of her head and back spread out, with a faint snow light shining from behind, as if a small crown was placed upon her.
She looked beautiful and elegant from a distance, but up close, just her head was larger than Garrett’s entire body. As she leaned closer, Garrett couldn’t even embrace her face with his arms spread wide. Extending his arms from the front teeth, he couldn’t reach the furthest molar. The breath from her nostrils whooshed onto Garrett:
"Mr. Mage, where are my scales?"
Garrett frantically searched again. Not in the coat pocket, not in the pant pockets, not in the spatial bag—
Just as he was about to lie down on the ground, using the meticulousness required in an operating room to search for a broken needle, he glanced down and saw a glint of water light reflecting into his eyes from his chest pocket. The two precious dragon scales were there, along with the [Endless Ink Pen].
Garrett hurriedly took them out and presented them with both hands. In his haste, his palm nicked the edge of a scale, instantly cutting open. Initially white, the cut turned red, and in the next moment, blood gushed out.
Garrett let out a soft cry. He was torn between caring for the dragon scales and healing himself, creating a flurry of panic. At this moment, the silver dragon suddenly "hmm"ed, lowering her head further to sniff him:
"You smell different."
Garrett quickly retreated. Not only did he retreat, but he also quickly conjured a wind barrier between him and the silver dragon:
"I haven’t bathed in two days!"
"It’s not that. You have a different smell on you," the silver dragon earnestly retorted. Before her words ended, a burst of white light fell on Garrett’s hand, healing the wound, sealing it, and restoring it as if nothing had happened.
Garrett had just thanked her when the two dragon scales floated up, drifted in front of the silver dragon, and then automatically returned to their place on her chest:
"Ah, they won’t grow back now!"
The silver dragon complained softly, her voice clear and tender. After speaking, she extended a claw towards Garrett:
"Mr. Mage, how will you compensate me?"
This... this, miss, in emergency resuscitations, it’s not customary to compensate for cut clothes! Garrett inwardly grumbled but also knew that taking dragon scales without returning them was not the same as cutting clothes. He patted his spatial bag without hesitation:
"This, this, and this!"
The silver dragon’s foreleg was longer than Garrett’s height, and just the claws were longer than Garrett’s palm. Everything from the spatial bag spilled out into the dragon’s palm, creating a dazzling display:
"Ah, Mr. Mage, no need!" The silver dragon lay on the ground and swung her tail. She chewed on those holy symbols, and faint white lights shattered in her mouth, soon drifting out and covering her entire body:
"They did it, let’s use their stuff to heal!"
White light swept over her body, scales, membranes, wings, and all the large and small wounds soon healed one by one. Garrett watched intently, then suddenly asked:
"Was it the Radiant Church that attacked you?"
"They didn’t attack me! They came for my aunt! They ambushed, and I caught them, so they fought me!" The silver dragon snorted and then sniffed Garrett:
"Mr. Mage, what’s your name? What are you doing here?"
"Garrett Nordmark. I came up with the dwarf’s king-selection team, to make a sacrifice at the peak, then descend the mountain." Garrett answered straightforwardly. He wanted to ask her name, but the silver dragon blew out a breath, sparks of fire in her breath, nearly sing
eing his collar:
"Garrett Nordmark. I’ll remember you!"
She suddenly stood up, spreading her wings. After a few flaps, she rose slowly. Circling above Garrett’s head a few times, she then turned and flew straight north.
Crossing the mountain peak, she entered the clouds. Soon, her silvery light-flickering body disappeared into the twilight.
Garrett thudded to the ground.
Who said there wouldn’t be dragons!
—Who said it was seven or eight hundred miles from the dragon nest, that even if you climb to the mountain peak, you definitely won’t encounter dragons!
Wait, what did the silver dragon say about him smelling different? What was that smell?
Garrett sniffed the back of his hand and then his palm, even pulling out all the bits and pieces on him, smelling them one by one. The collar, the cuffs, the surface of the spatial bag, the [Endless Ink Pen] in the chest pocket, and the unknown material pendant that the original owner had always worn around his neck, which he hadn’t taken off...
Sorry, apart from the smell of sweat and dust, he couldn’t smell anything else.
...He needed to find a way to bathe!
After descending the mountain, he had to quickly find a place to bathe!... Or should he use snow to wipe his clothes first?
Garrett pondered as he walked towards the slope. Using Mage Hand, he gathered a handful of snow, then another, carefully wiping his leather jacket. When he had almost finished, the sky had already turned completely dark, loud calls came from afar, the dwarves leading the goats, making their way towards him unevenly:
"Garrett! You’re alright, that’s great!"
They stayed at a nearby camp for the night, and the next day, panting heavily, relying on their legs, climbed the mountain. Garrett, empty-handed and exhausted, struggled to reach the peak, watching the dwarves clear a flat area of snow, laying out the armor and weapons they had brought up, surrounding the flat ground, and singing the sacrificial hymns...
Considering the effort it takes just to breathe at the summit, where did they find the energy to sing?
Yet they sang one song after another!
It took one day to ascend from the snow line to the peak, and another day to descend from the peak to the snow line. The group mounted their goats, returning along the mountain ridge, and as dusk fell, a silver-haired girl suddenly appeared on the mountain path ahead:
"Hey! Mr. Mage, and you gentlemen, where are you heading? Can I join you?"
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