In a haze, Maya felt that her soul had left her body, and a small hand pressed it. The primordial and pure ink-colored magic also poured in, and the jerky and heavy feeling instantly filled the entire soul and pressed it back into the body.

The magic that it had been longing for had become a huge burden at this time, and it felt like it was about to drown in the rolling torrent. So Maya struggled to get rid of her little hands that had submerged her in the torrent.

Enough is enough! The magic that was poured into the soul was spit out with great difficulty. But every time it was spit out, it was accompanied by more mana pouring in.

The magic poured out of the soul began to flow and wash through the body. The feeling of weakness is fading, and the feeling of the soul being out of the body is disappearing, but the feeling of suffocation is even stronger.

The sound of the tide in my ears gradually became clear, and my body felt the warmth of the bonfire again. Maya knew that she was going to get rid of her nightmare and wake up from it. Struggling, struggling hard, just to open the heavy eyelids as soon as possible.

Beneath it, the roughness of the sand rubbing against the scales made it itch. As a result, it began to unconsciously shake its scales, but instead of slowing down the itching, this behavior gradually penetrated from the surface of the body to the soul, making it even more unbearable.

Maya's eyes opened violently, and the reflection in the vertical pupils was a strange boy shrouded in darkness, a small hand pressing on its nose.

Maya subconsciously wanted to struggle to get up, wanting to get rid of the boy in front of her. But an irresistible force came from that little hand, pressing its jaw into the sand. The sand spread over its mouth, and then gradually submerged its nose, and the shadow of death fell again.

Maya was in a hurry, and desperately pushed her limbs to pull her head out, but to no avail. When everything around it began to blur and despair loomed over it again, the hand suddenly let go of it. Maya then tumbled and fell out, gliding far, far away on the sand......

Under the cover of the bonfire, the figure of the boy and the girl looked tall and majestic, and it was so frightened that it curled up again in a ball and closed its eyes and pretended to be dead.

Erin looked at the wyvern hidden in the darkness and asked expectantly, "How is it?"

"It's okay, play dead. ”

Erin was so excited that she wanted to run over to take a look, but was stopped by Bran, "Sit down, ignore it yet." ”

"It's the first time I've seen such a huge, strange wyvern......" Erin couldn't help but say as soon as she sat down.

Bran ignored her agitation and interrupted directly, "Dragons, that's what those outsiders call them. This is barely an adult. ”

Speaking of this, Bran turned his head to Zoya and complimented, "Quite a gain, worth bragging about for a while." ”

The second half of Bran's words woke Erin like a basin of cold water. Although the dragon's ability to survive until now has a lot to do with her, it does not belong to her yet. It was Zoya's trophy and had nothing to do with her.

It's a little embarrassing, a little embarrassing. Her careful thinking should not be able to hide from them, which is why Bran reminded them in this way.

Instead of answering Bran's words, Zoya drew her short knives—fragile—and watched as they spat out strings of stars from time to time in the firelight. Perhaps sensing that their true master was nearby, they began to tremble and make a crisp chirp. Bran also answered their call and reached out to Zoya.

"It's time to pay me back. ”

Zoya raised her head and smiled playfully: "You said that you borrowed me to defend yourself outside, and now you haven't returned to Northland City." ”

Bran retracted his hand, "You should also cultivate your own weapons, which are truly suitable for your abilities, temperament, or carrying your past weapons. ”

"What do they carry you?"

Zoya's question also aroused Erin's curiosity, so she looked up at Bran.

"It's going to be a long story, do you really want to hear it?" Looking at the sparkling eyes of the two girls, Bran shook his head and began to tell in the accompaniment of the tide, "I walked out of the cottage at dawn with Huahua in my arms......"

While Maya was pretending to be dead, she was also secretly examining her body. The power was full again, even better than ever, making it want to roar and vent. But the swaying figure in the firelight not far away made it dare not make a mistake.

The boy's strength reminded it of the dragon's sacred mountain, where it grew up in its infancy. The sacred mountain is home to the progenitor of the dragon, where each young dragon spends a considerable amount of time. It is said that this will gain their power.

If that were the case, the boy would be like the Dragon Ancestor.

It wondered how such a character could be found in the middle of nowhere. Legend has it that they possess the ability to communicate between heaven and earth, maintaining the balance of all things. Where they stay, the land becomes fertile and the vegetation becomes more lush. It is like the sacred mountain of the dragon, where the forest covers the sky and the sun, and the birds and beasts in the forest are fat and abnormal.

Moreover, they are indispensable treasures of all ethnic groups, and they are the pillars that sustain them. In their respective ethnic groups, they all have extremely special status and honorific titles, how can they run out casually?

Maya squirmed and slowly approached the campfire, knowing that such a small gesture could not hide from the people present, but it did not dare to be too blatant. It didn't even think about escaping, and it was already aware of many problems after it fell out. Running away, an obvious act of death, at least waited until the boy was away.

The best way to face this kind of character is to be humble and take a few more sips of pure magic by the way. It regrets a little, why struggle just now?

The night was too short for Maya, who felt close to the boy and the light was already bright. The campfire had been extinguished, and its huge head was resting on the side of the boy's lap with a low brow like a puppy pleasing to its master. It's a pity that its huge body with this demeanor looks too awkward and funny.

A group of people hurried towards this place in the distance. This time, when they learned that Bran was here, the dragoons did not dare to slack off. As they got closer, they noticed that the wyvern, who had been badly injured and dying, had become very different. The mottled color of the scales was replaced by ink, which seemed to have life in the sunlight.

With the flow of ink, vitality and power bloom unabashedly. Coercion is also released in this bloom. Completely different from this flamboyant aura, it was lying quietly and obediently beside Bran.

Someone came to make an announcement, interrupting the small talk of the three. Bran didn't bother to pay attention to the group, and first turned his head to Zoya, "Be careful outside, and go back and rest for a few days when you've had enough." ”

Seeing that Zoya nodded in agreement, she turned around and greeted Erin, turned into a cloud of gray smoke and left.

Maya still lowered her eyebrows and looked like a good baby, and the group of dragoons rushed around Bran after he left, and began to judge it. Zoya seemed to be invisible again, and Erin was once again squeezed away from the dragon. They withdrew from the circle and stood side by side, silently watching everything in front of them.

After a few days, Zoya had come to understand that the dragoon's love for dragons was out of nature. Faced with such a dragon, it is difficult for them to resist its attraction. She wasn't Bran, and she hadn't formed a real deterrent yet, so when Bran was gone, the group began to faint again. Perhaps it was Bran's arrival that made her feel so good, and Zoya actually thought that the dragoon was quite cute at this time.

But Maya rebelled at this time. Calculate the time, that young man should have gone far, who would dare to point fingers at me?