The Heavens: A Qing, the Yue Girl at the beginning

“My people,” Nidhogg’s voice descended like the heavens, “I am gratified by everything you have built.”

“I once slept, watching you wander in ignorance, tearing, possessing, and then forgetting by instinct. That was your nature, an unrefined, rough beauty.”

The black dragon's eyes slowly swept over the dragons below who were listening intently, over the bronze city, the flowing elemental radiance, and the orderly array. "But now, I see another possibility—a beauty that even I did not anticipate."

“You have learned to ‘shape,’ not just ‘destroy.’ You have learned to ‘speak,’ not just ‘roar.’

"You have learned not only to leave claw marks in the desert of time, but also to begin... to inscribe inscriptions and express your imagination."

"That's good."

"This means that my bloodline is finally beginning to understand the 'weight' it carries."

“You are no longer merely vessels of power; you have begun to become… the ‘singers’ and ‘weavers’ of power.”

“I, Nidhogg, hereby witness and acknowledge that the dragon race has ignited the spark of civilization.”

"Therefore, I will bestow upon you a new order to match this new glory. I will personally maintain, protect, and guide it, so that it will not collapse from internal strife, nor be lost from blindness."

Nidhogg raised one of its front paws and made a slight pressing motion.

In the sky, the clouds rolled back, suddenly forming four huge, complex, and ever-changing three-dimensional emblems.

They correspond to earth, water, wind, and fire respectively, radiating an appeal that makes the blood of dragons of the corresponding attributes boil, and further branching out into countless brilliant streams of light, which are injected into the brow of each dragon below.

"From this day forward, the Dragon Clan will be governed by an Elder Council composed of the wisest and strongest members of each race, who will discuss matters of state together. In the four directions and eight corners, lords will be appointed to govern according to the law, with each level having its own jurisdiction."

"The common dragon script is the common code of the tribe. The art of alchemy must be recorded in the classics and may not be taught privately without permission."

"Anyone who goes against this order shall be punished with eternal fire."

As the words fell, an invisible yet overwhelming "law" seeped into the very blood of every dragon, a spiritual awakening:

All the dragons were horrified and suddenly realized that the most subtle and core operating logic of the universal dragon script and alchemical matrix they had mastered was perfectly aligned with the ancient laws that were resonating with them at this moment, without the slightest discrepancy.

Like a river that has finally found the ocean it was destined to flow into.

It wasn't the witch who created them, but rather the witch... who discovered them. She discovered the system of authority and elements, the blueprint of knowledge, that originally belonged to Nidhogg, to the Black Emperor.

He simply came to claim it.

At this moment, the brilliance of civilization was branded with a unique and unquestionable mark of its origin.

Wanlong bowed his head in shock, yet his heart was filled with a sense of fulfillment and trembling.

It was a kind of peace that came from finding one's ultimate destination, mixed with a sense of insignificance.

All the glory they built over 20,000 years with their united will has never left the palm of the ancestor; in fact, it is an extension and manifestation of the ancestor's will.

This realization did not bring frustration, but instead fostered a more fervent sense of belonging and awe.

The priestess, standing at the edge of the platform, watched calmly.

She watched as Nidhogg, with just a few words, effortlessly and skillfully gathered the fruits of his more than 20,000 years of wandering and spreading the Dharma.

How can we define "exploration" as "discovery" and interpret "creation" as "claiming"? How can we reorganize all knowledge systems, imprint them with the mark of "divine inspiration," and praise the power of the Black King?

She just watched.

The celebration lasted for nine days and nine nights.

The Bronze City's light never fades, and the roars of ten thousand dragons transform into a solemn harmony. New elders are elected, the lord's scepter is bestowed, and the annals are forged into eternity in golden flames—among them are individuals who once harbored hostility towards the priestess.

A complex, precise, and interconnected system, a dragon society structure entirely serving the Black King's will, was established in a short period of time. It was far more efficient and stable than the loose alliance established by the witch, and also... far colder.

It was as if it had been brewing in His heart for ten thousand years.

No dragon raised any objection.

The vast majority of dragons were overjoyed.

This was a smooth, natural, and thorough handover.

Civilization has found its "rightful" pinnacle and master.

On the tenth day, the commotion gradually subsided.

At a time unknown to anyone, the Black King once again met the priestess at the very origin of that sacred mountain.

She remained dressed in pure white, standing beneath the ancient silver-gray tree, gazing silently at the dragon territory that had been incorporated into the new order.

“You did very well,” Nidhogg’s voice rang out, calm and unreadable, “better than I expected.”

"I thought you could only teach them a few tricks at most. I never expected you to give them a civilization."

“But this civilization,” the witch finally spoke, her voice hoarse, “now belongs to you.”

"It has always belonged to me."

Nidhogg said, "They are my descendants, and their civilization is naturally my civilization as well. The only difference is that before they were scattered embryos, and now they are mature fruits."

"I simply... harvest it, taste it, and decide its future shape at the right time."

The priestess fell silent again, the mountain breeze ruffling her silver hair.

His back was slender, like mist that might dissipate at any moment.

"I also learned a lot from it."

“Especially the kind of ‘community illusion’ that you created.”

Nidhogg lowered his head and continued, "To make lonely individuals believe they belong to a larger whole, to make selfish beings willing to sacrifice for the collective, to restrain instinctive violence with rules—that's ingenious. How did you come up with that?"

The priestess replied, "I simply recorded their inner desires and then provided a framework to contain those desires."

“Longing…” Nidhogg repeated the word, then suddenly chuckled softly, “Yes, longing. Longing for connection, longing for meaning, longing to transcend loneliness and nothingness—this is the deepest ailment of all intelligent life. And you have given them the cure.”

"But this medicine doesn't cure the root cause of the illness."

The priestess spoke softly, with a hint of weariness that was barely perceptible.

“Of course it can’t be cured.” Nidhogg’s voice carried a hint of indifference mixed with pleasure. “After all, the root of this ‘disease’ lies in the fact that they are separate, finite individuals.”

"As long as this premise remains unchanged, any 'community' is only a temporary anesthetic. But this anesthetic itself is very interesting."

“Watching them build, sing, fight, fall in love, and then grow old under your anesthesia is much more interesting than watching them simply sleep, hunt, and slowly decay.”

"You have extended the length of this play and enriched its plot. As a viewer, I should express my gratitude."

He paused: “However, this is not the ‘salvation’ you promised.”

The priestess's fingers tightened slightly.

"I know."

She whispered, "This is just... preparation. They..."

But before he could finish speaking, Black King rudely interrupted him: "Civilization is a burden, you know that?"

The priestess looked up.

“These thousands of dragons are nothing more than food and toys to me…” Nidhogg said softly.

"Dietary supplements?!"

The priestess asked incredulously.

Her voice trembled with shock.

"Yes."

The Black King smiled, revealing a row of gleaming white teeth, as if stating a perfectly ordinary truth: "When I need to regain my strength, or... simply feel bored, they are born in my blood and return to my blood; this is the most logical cycle."

The priestess felt a chill.

“I know you’ve been misunderstanding something all along,” Nidhogg’s voice rang out again, still with that matter-of-fact tone: “But I have never considered them as my own kind.”

"Never in the past, never now, and never in the future."

“I am the progenitor of dragons, but I am more than just the progenitor of dragons.” “I am the source of their bloodline, the foundation of their power, yet I am never in their hierarchy.”

"Just as the Creator is not the same as the created."

"Just as a painter is not the same as the paint he uses."

He took a step forward, and the cliffs trembled slightly.

“But you are.” The Black King stared directly at her.

These words, spoken softly, were more impactful than any words spoken before. They offered no warmth, only a deeper paradox and loneliness: she was "one of them," and therefore treated differently;

But it is precisely because she is "of the same kind" that she is allowed to see this cruel truth and is expected to "understand" or even "accept" it?
But the priestess felt neither warmth nor honor.

She felt the chill intensify.

It almost froze my soul.

She took several steps back, her face pale.

Twenty thousand years of wandering, twenty thousand years of teaching.

She thought she was filling an emptiness, creating meaning, and paving the way for salvation.

In reality, she was merely serving a higher level of pastoralism. She taught the sheep to build better pens and grow fatter wool, while the shepherd could slaughter them at any time.

Even more cruelly, Nidhogg didn't even bother to hide this fact.

That nonchalant frankness is more chilling than deliberate cruelty.

this means.

In His eyes, this was not even an “evil act,” but simply the law of nature, like the wind blowing leaves, the sun rising and the moon setting.

His arrogance was ingrained in his very bones.

These few words pierced through the faint hope deep within her heart—the sliver of a hope that she might find a "place," a "home," and a sense of "belonging" among the dragons during the long journey of "salvation."

Now, that hope has been extinguished, leaving not even ashes.

Only at this moment did the priestess suddenly realize:

Even though the Black King had learned everything about her after a long period of observation—alchemy, dragon script, organizational methods, and thought system—and even surpassed her in many aspects.

But there is one thing that Black King has never learned, and perhaps never will: emotional humility.

The willingness to admit one's own mistakes, to listen to dissenting opinions, to restrain one's own desires for the benefit of the group, and the basic empathy and respect for the value of "others" are all qualities that constitute a person's character.

The Black King's arrogance is absolute. He disdains to hide his contempt for the dragons, because in His view, it is not a matter of "moral discussion" but an absolute "statement of fact."

……

"So, the dragon race was an 'abandoned race' from the very beginning?"

Shi Yiguang seemed to understand something, and said with a hint of knowing: "After the Black King died, most of the surviving dragons called themselves 'the abandoned race,' meaning that their race was no longer favored by the world and had been banished to the edge of the times."

"But the real truth is that long before civilization was born, long before they began to look up at the stars in their ignorance and try to leave their first mark, they were already defined as 'consumables' in the eyes of the creator and the source of their bloodline, and could be discarded at will."

“‘Abandonment’ is not a punishment or curse for treason and rebellion, but rather an inherent attribute of dragons as created beings. It was briefly covered up and ‘removed’ by the White King with great effort, but gradually returned to normal over the years.”

"It is a gift, and also a shackle; it is power, and also a price tag."

The king's voice calmly continued: "Nidhogg's conversation just now made this point clear, almost shattering the witch's beliefs, but she also touched upon another essential aspect because of it."

……

“You teach dragons about ‘emptiness,’ ‘impermanence,’ about the arising of all phenomena, and that all things are empty of inherent existence… You yourself wouldn’t disbelieve these principles, would you?” Nidhogg looked at the witch, explaining patiently, as if guiding a lost child to see the truth:

"What is the essential difference between the concept of 'dragon' and 'mountain', 'sea', 'wind', and 'fire'? They are all phenomena, all aggregations, and all in flux."

"The birth and death of individuals, the rise and fall of groups, and the change of civilizations are nothing more than insignificant ripples in the process of the vast 'One' overflowing and returning... There is nothing that is particularly precious, nor is there anything that cannot be given up."

"You pity the melting of a single snowflake, but have you ever pity the moment when water vapor gathers to form a snowflake?"

Is your compassion based on the 'value' of the phenomenon itself, or on the 'labels' projected from your own cognitive limitations?

"The bloodline returns to me, transforming from an illusory, transient phenomenon into 'reality,' attaining eternity in the absolute spirit—is this not precisely one aspect of the truth of the world that you, with this eye of mine, 'see' and attempt to explain?"

The priestess was stunned.

Yes, she saw it.

In the vision of the Eye of God, the essence of every dragon is a specific arrangement and combination of elements, a temporary carrier of power, and a projection of Nidhogg's "absolute spirit" into the phenomenal world.

Like leaves on a tree.

It sprouts in spring, falls in autumn, turns into soil, nourishes the roots, and grows new leaves the following year.

The leaves may see themselves as independent entities, but the tree knows that they are all part of it.

"To regard dragons as carriers of reason and history is undoubtedly a foolish and ridiculous prejudice."

Nidhogg's voice continued, calm yet tinged with sarcasm, each sentence piercing the heart: "Why not abandon it and transform it into a gene-centric, protein-centric, atomic-number-centric ideology?"

"On a 'real' level, what's the difference between a cluster of elemental crystals and a thinking dragon?"

Which concept is closer to the 'reality' you see?

The witch's lips moved slightly.

She wanted to argue.

I mean that "seeing" is not the same as "accepting".

The idea that a phenomenon is fleeting does not negate its "truth" and "value" during its existence.

I want to talk about those dragons who followed her, learned from her, and whose eyes shone with light because of her words; those dragons who toiled together in the Bronze City, debated doctrines under the stars, and sang requiems for their companions at funerals…

Their emotions, their memories, their clumsy attempts to love, to understand, to create.

Just because something is "transient" or "phenomenal," does that mean it can be easily erased and treated as nothing?

But she couldn't bring herself to say it.

Reason and knowledge told her that the Black King's logic was impeccable.

He even quoted scriptures he himself had taught.

The tool she used to persuade the dragons to transcend ignorance and move towards civilization was now picked up by the source itself, easily deconstructing the very foundation of meaning for which she had devoted 20,000 years of effort.

How ironic, and how...inevitable, this is.

She herself opened this door, allowing dragons to glimpse the "truth" of the world. Now that this "truth" has backfired, what right does she have to protest? And what new arguments can she offer?
Looking at the witch's sorrowful face, Nidhogg's golden eyes flickered slightly, as if a complex and unfathomable emotion flashed across them, so fleeting that it seemed like an illusion.

"It seems you need more time to process this."

The Black King finally spoke, his voice returning to its usual calm, "I will take care of this toy kingdom for you. Order has been established, and it is functioning smoothly. You can go and rest now. Think carefully about your true 'salvation' plan."

“Remember,” He turned, His enormous dragon wings casting an even deeper shadow behind Him, His voice carried on the wind, crystal clear, “Witch. What makes you different is not because you possess my eyes. It is because, before you possessed them, you dared to say those words to me.”

As soon as he finished speaking, the black dragon's figure merged into the clouds and disappeared.

All that remained were the howling wind on the mountaintop, the silent ancient trees, and the sorceress standing alone on the edge of the cliff, dressed in snow-white robes, seemingly about to vanish with the wind at any moment.

She stood there for a long time.

……

"He is the ancestor of dragons, but he is more than just the ancestor of dragons?"

Almost simultaneously, Zhao Qing spoke calmly: "In the long history of biological evolution, the dragon race is indeed only the final manifestation of Nidhogg. Before that, there were many other stages."

"As expected of the first communicator and sacrifice chosen by the will of the stars, it seems that the Black King's birth time was much earlier than I originally expected, and could even be traced back to the Hadean eon."

"The Ediacaran biota of the Arctic Ruins, and the feathered serpent trypanosome, a giant virus that can produce dragon-like traits, provide important clues."

As she wielded her sword, cutting and dividing the flow, she analyzed the sequence of events and received a wealth of research data. This gave her a new understanding of the enemy's strength and origins, allowing her to begin developing corresponding plans. (End of Chapter)