Ye Sheng and his two companions carried Wang Jianjun down the mountainside for hours, their makeshift stretcher cutting into their shoulders, their legs burning with exhaustion. The rescue team met them halfway up, arriving by helicopter with medical personnel who immediately began stabilizing their critically injured commander.
The entire group boarded the helicopter and flew directly to the nearest military hospital—a journey of roughly five hours from pickup to landing pad.
As they disembarked, a colonel in crisp uniform approached and delivered a sharp salute. "Excuse me, which of you is Ye Sheng?"
"That's me." Ye Sheng stepped forward, straightening despite his fatigue. "What can I do for you, Colonel?"
"I've received orders from high command. After resting tonight, you, Chen Moqing, and Aki Sakakotsu are to board a military transport at oh-eight-hundred tomorrow. You'll fly to Imperial Capital Command to deliver a full mission debrief in person."
"Understood, Colonel." Ye Sheng nodded crisply.
A thought struck him. "What about Commander Wang Jianjun?"
The colonel's expression softened slightly. "Commander Wang will receive the best possible care. We have a specialist medical team en route from the capital—they'll arrive before midnight. You have my word we'll do everything in our power to save him."
"Thank you, Colonel." Ye Sheng gripped the officer's hand firmly before releasing it.
Wang Jianjun was rushed directly into emergency surgery while Ye Sheng, Chen Moqing, and Aki were escorted to a military vehicle. They would spend the night at the nearest airbase before their morning departure.
Before climbing into the transport, Ye Sheng relayed the colonel's orders to his two companions. Both simply nodded—too exhausted for questions or concerns.
The moment the vehicle's engine started, all three passengers fell into unconsciousness. It wasn't sleep so much as their bodies simply shutting down. The nightmare journey through the Nibelungen, the desperate escape, the hours carrying Wang Jianjun down treacherous mountain terrain—all of it had pushed them far beyond normal human limits. Their reserves were completely depleted.
The driver glanced in the rearview mirror at his three passengers, all slumped in various positions, and drove carefully to avoid jostling them. They'd earned their rest.
One night wasn't enough to fully recover, but when they boarded their transport the next morning, at least the bone-deep exhaustion had receded to mere fatigue. Their movements were stiff, their reactions slower than normal, but they could function.
The Y-8 transport aircraft—the same model that had carried them to Kunlun—lifted off precisely at eight hundred hours. Within minutes they'd reached cruising altitude and settled into level flight.
Ye Sheng stared out the small window at the landscape far below. The Kunlun mountain range stretched across the horizon like the spine of some impossibly vast dragon, peaks crowned with eternal snow. Beautiful. Majestic. Ancient.
And somewhere within those mountains, the King of Sky and Wind slept in its pocket dimension.
After their intelligence had been transmitted to headquarters, both Location Two and Location Three had been declared military exclusion zones. The surrounding airspace was now closed to all civilian traffic. But the restrictions hadn't caused any public concern—Kunlun was sparsely populated at the best of times, and Cassel College had already coordinated with the Chinese government to ensure a complete information blackout. As long as the government maintained silence, nobody would ask questions.
Half a day of flight brought them to a military airbase on the outskirts of the capital. As the Y-8's rear ramp lowered, Ye Sheng spotted three figures waiting on the tarmac: Professor Schneider with his distinctive breathing apparatus, Chen Yingfeng looking grave, and an official representative in a sharply-pressed uniform who he recognized as Li Ping.
"Professor Schneider?" Both Ye Sheng and Aki expressed surprise as they descended the ramp. "You came personally?"
Schneider had prepared countless things to say during the flight from America. Questions about the Dragon King, technical details about the Nibelungen, tactical assessments of what they'd encountered. But seeing his students standing before him—exhausted, haunted, but alive—all those prepared speeches evaporated.
"Ye Sheng. Aki. Thank you." The words came out rough through his breathing apparatus. "Thank you for your hard work."
Chen Moqing showed equal surprise at seeing Chen Yingfeng. The veteran operative rarely made personal appearances for debriefings.
After brief greetings, Li Ping led the three survivors to a conference room. For the next two hours, they recounted every detail of their mission—the entry into the Nibelungen, the discovery of the Dragon King, Qian Feng's sacrifice to save Chen Moqing, Xia Jidong's final stand that allowed the others to escape, Wang Jianjun's critical injuries. They even mentioned seemingly minor details like the massive pool of apple cider in front of the sleeping Dragon King.
When the debrief concluded, Schneider dismissed Ye Sheng and his companions to rest. The moment they left, the atmosphere in the room shifted.
Schneider, Chen Yingfeng, and Li Ping exchanged weighted glances. Without words, they rose and relocated to a more secure conference room—one specifically designed for classified communications. Holographic projectors hummed to life as they took their seats.
Three figures materialized as life-sized projections.
The first was Principal Anjou, calling from Cassel College in America.
The second was Ji Liuping, the representative chosen by China's mixed-blood families to speak on their collective behalf.
The third was a man whose face frequently appeared in official Chinese media—though his public roles never mentioned the responsibilities he held regarding mixed-blood affairs. Most people in the dragon-slaying community knew him simply as Secretary Zhang.
As the highest-ranking official present—even via hologram—Secretary Zhang opened the meeting. "I'll dispense with formalities. According to the investigation team's report, the dragon that appeared in Kunlun is the King of Sky and Wind. Is that correct?"
Li Ping responded immediately. "Yes, Secretary. Based on intelligence from the investigation team, we can confirm it is indeed the King of Sky and Wind."
"What evidence supports this identification?"
"We have eyewitness testimony from Ye Sheng and Chen Moqing, both of whom personally observed the Dragon King. Commander Wang Jianjun, who was recently rescued from critical condition, can provide corroboration once he recovers sufficiently. Additionally, all team members carried recording equipment. However, the cameras appear to have been disrupted by electromagnetic interference after entering the Nibelungen. Our technical team is currently working to recover the data."
Secretary Zhang nodded slowly. "Eyewitness testimony from mixed-bloods is sufficient. Their dragon blood will recognize a Dragon King—that's not something that can be mistaken or fabricated."
His expression grew heavier. "The real question is this: What do we do about it? A complete Dragon King appearing in Kunlun—this is unprecedented in recorded history, correct? And the location is within Chinese territory, which means if something goes wrong, China will bear the brunt of the consequences. As one of the officials responsible for this situation, I need actionable intelligence."
Anjou leaned forward in his projection, his expression somber. "Secretary Zhang, if I may offer some historical context. This is indeed the first time in millennia that a Dragon King has appeared in complete form. The most recent suspected Dragon King appearance occurred one hundred and eight years ago—September of 1900, during what became known as the Summer Mourning Incident. I was there. I witnessed it personally."
A bitter smile flickered across Anjou's aged face—whether mourning the Lionheart Society members who'd died a century ago or regretting his own survival, none could say.
"A coffin was delivered to the Meinecke Cassel manor. Inside was the preserved body of a Tangut boy—historically identified as Li Wuyue, younger brother of the Western Xia Emperor Li Yuanhao. When we opened the coffin, we found his body covered in suppression instruments—alchemical devices specifically designed to contain dragons."
Anjou's voice grew quieter, though it lost none of its intensity. "The body hadn't decayed in over a thousand years. Doctor Modler made the decision to inject it with adrenaline, believing we could study its reaction. What happened next..." He paused, the memory clearly painful even after a century. "Li Wuyue awakened. He nearly annihilated the entire first generation of the Lionheart Society. I survived only because I was knocked unconscious early in the massacre—he apparently didn't bother to confirm I was dead before moving on to more active threats."
The room fell silent, everyone processing the implications. A Dragon King in human form, weakened and suppressed for a millennium, had still nearly wiped out an entire generation of elite dragon slayers.
And now they faced a complete Dragon King in full draconic glory.
"The situation with Li Wuyue was contained only because he remained in human form and was already severely weakened," Anjou continued. "What we're dealing with now is categorically different. A complete Dragon King, in its true form, with access to its full authority and power... Gentlemen, I don't think any of us can truly comprehend what that means in practical terms."
Secretary Zhang's projected image was perfectly still. "Then we need to determine our options before that comprehension becomes necessary. This meeting is now officially classified at the highest level. What we discuss here determines whether China—and possibly the world—has a future."
The weight of those words settled over the conference room like a suffocating blanket.
And in distant Kunlun, oblivious to the fear and planning its existence had triggered, the King of Sky and Wind continued its peaceful slumber.