Alice in the Land of Steam

Chapter 1437 Did He Suddenly Awaken?

The answer is regrettable, or perhaps only one person feels regret—the very teacher who gave Nidhogg the "correct" conclusion. While others focused on Hraswald's achievements, ignoring this solitary dragon who seemed to possess only a cold expression, only he saw Nidhogg's efforts, his almost cruel persistence. He saw Nidhogg chasing after Hraswald's shadow, recklessly climbing towards the same summit. But he was different from Hraswald; he lacked parental encouragement, the support of friends, and the admiration of others. All he possessed was his own burning passion and futile stubbornness. If Hraswald's ascent was a smooth highway, then Nidhogg struggled along a thorny path, the sharp thorns drawing blood, yet he gritted his teeth and persevered, seemingly not viewing his pain as suffering, but rather as a driving force.

But he was still one step away from Hrathwalg. Sometimes, the gap in talent cannot be bridged by mere effort; this one step was incredibly difficult, even the teachers found it demanding. As the guardian of the Great Archives, he should have remained neutral regarding the competition among the younger generation. But if you had witnessed a young dragon challenge a fearsome and powerful monster, fight and kill it, and return to his tribe battered and bruised, just to prove he was no less than the so-called "sun," only to see his rival triumphantly return amidst the cheers of his people—he had just defeated a monster that constantly challenged the dragon race's authority, a monster so powerful that even ancient dragons who had become demigods were no match for it, while Hrathwalg had emerged unscathed—you would understand that this emotional bias was not without reason.

That night, Nidhogg curled up alone in the darkness, licking his wounds, seemingly unable to hear the cheers of his people for Hrascwalg. Being "always second" was tragic; even more tragic was that second place should have its own glory and pride, but Nidhogg had none. Everyone was blind to, or deliberately ignored, the existence of this "second place," as if he were a shadow, or simply an illusion. Between first and third place lay a void.

"Why are you so persistent, Nidhogg?"

The teacher stood in front of the second-place student and asked in a calm, unwavering voice, "Is there any compelling reason for your persistence?"

Such a question shouldn't have come from a teacher whose responsibility is to impart knowledge and experience, but he was genuinely curious because, in his eyes, Nidhogg was definitely not the kind of dragon who liked to compete. Although he seemed aloof and stubborn and not recognized by others, he never cared about the recognition of others.

He looked at his student, the young dragon who used to respond to others' gazes with silence and coldness, isolated in a corner yet still so proud, had now grown into a towering adult dragon. For dragons, size meant dignity, status, and power, and Nidhogg was undoubtedly one of the best. He now looked like a mountain peak, yet he showed no signs of stopping growing, as if the energy hidden within him would continue to expand with his ambition until no other dragon could steal his glory.

There's no reason.

Nidhogg replied coldly. Years of pursuit and failure had gradually made him forget his past memories, and even towards his teacher, the only one who wouldn't look down on him, he no longer held that respect and awe. Perhaps this was his nature, or perhaps it was something he had developed later in life. The teacher didn't care and pressed on, "Do you want to prove yourself?"

"I never need to prove anything."

Nidhogg turned around, and as his scarred dragon wings spread, they stirred up a raging wind that echoed through the heavens and earth. He looked up at the deep night and said without raising his head, "You seem to have said that from birth until now, Heraswalg has always received recognition and praise from others. He has only gained and never lost."

"Yes."

“Then I am the opposite of him; I have only lost, never gained.” He paused, then slowly said, “So, I will make him lose something.”

"Is it just that simple?"

"It's not that simple!!!"

He whirled around, his deep roar tinged with frustration and resentment, staring intently at him. That defiant gaze instantly reminded the teacher of those horrific and detestable losers repeatedly mentioned in ancient legends and the poems of bards—who ultimately died by the sword of heroes in the name of conspiracy and betrayal. Would he suffer the same fate, or would his death be even more tragic?
The teacher was silent for a moment, then suddenly said, "The selection ceremony for the Dragon King will begin soon."

Nidhogg's pupils contracted slightly as he heard his teacher say, "Everyone thinks that the next Dragon King is already in Hrathwalg's hands."

"So--"

He spoke, his voice firm and stubborn: "I will make him lose something."

The words were exactly the same as before, but because there was a clear goal, they seemed more enlightened, even resolute.

"However, I don't think this is a good time."

The teacher said, “Heraswalg isn’t superior to you in every way. At least, his size has stabilized as his strength has increased. But you are different. You still have room to grow, Nidhogg. Your name is the dragon that devours heaven and earth. Within your body lie infinite possibilities, boundless worlds, and infinite concepts. One day, you will grow into the largest dragon on this continent, so that everyone can only look up at you. Everything that Heraswalg has obtained, you will obtain as well. However, if you were to compete with him for the Dragon King’s throne now, in my opinion, your chances of winning are very small, or rather, close to zero.”

"so what?"

So, can you learn to be patient?

"How long can we endure this?"

"When no one can ignore you."

"By then, can I still make Heraswalg lose anything?"

"..." The teacher remained silent, and this silence spoke volumes.

“Then I will fight,” Nidhogg said slowly, “until he loses something.”

……

As Ovira delves into the memories of a dragon from the past, seeking answers about love and loneliness, outside, in the central control room of the sky battleship Nibelungen, Linger carefully supports the girl's head, letting her lean on his shoulder to avoid the gloomy dampness and overgrown black moss on the floor.

Leticia squatted opposite the young man, her hands supporting her chin, gazing at Ovira's peaceful face. She didn't look like she was unconscious, but rather like she was asleep. Leticia frowned and asked, "Is she really struggling with the evil dragon in the illusion?"

“Yes.” Ling nodded slightly. “That’s what Ovira said.”

She had already warned everyone before they even entered Nibelungen, so this was hardly unexpected.

Leticia's brows furrowed even more: "But I can't tell at all, her expression is so calm..."

The so-called struggle of wills must be very dangerous, right? Especially since the opponent is Nidhogg, the evil dragon in Atorica legend who devours heaven and earth and brings disaster. Just the dragon skeleton formed from his resentment after his death is enough to make people feel suffocated from the bottom of their hearts, let alone his soul.
"do not know."

Lin Ge said calmly, "All we can do now is trust her."

Leticia fell silent, her gaze towards Ovira growing even more intense, lost in thought.

Just then, footsteps sounded outside the control room, and the Countess entered with the werewolf girl, Selena. After Ovira fell unconscious, to ensure the safety of the surrounding area, although she didn't believe any magical beasts or other beings could survive the evil dragon's oppressive aura, the Countess still decided to thoroughly inspect Nibelungen to eliminate any potential threats. As for Selena, she had volunteered to go along, probably feeling that her role on this journey had been too small—aside from leading the way at the beginning, she hadn't shown any outstanding performance—and therefore wanted to contribute more to the team.

"Nothing was found."

Facing the inquiring gazes of the young man, the countess succinctly summarized the outcome of the trip in one sentence, then hesitated slightly before adding, "But I have a nagging feeling, a strange sense... This warship seems alive; it's about to awaken..."

Ling replied, "It was already alive."

“That’s not what I meant, but—” The countess rarely showed a hint of agitation, but it wasn’t her usual calm demeanor towards the young man. Rather, it was the fact that she had clearly sensed something amiss but couldn’t grasp it, much less accurately describe it in her words. This made her feel very uncomfortable, as if she were sitting on the edge of a volcano that could erupt at any moment, with no one able to predict when disaster would strike…

Rumble!
A muffled roar, as if emanating from the depths of the earth, interrupted the Countess's voice, followed by a violent shaking, as if the entire ship was trembling. Dust accumulated on the ceiling and black moss growing in the corners were shaken off by the tremors, and the scars etched onto the hull three thousand years ago rapidly widened, as if an invisible giant claw had swept across, intending to cleave the heart embedded within the dragon's skeleton in two. Caught off guard, Selena stumbled and cried out in alarm; Ling instinctively steadied the girl in his arms to prevent her from being harmed by the turbulence; but Leticia's reaction was the fastest and most rational of all. Even before the tremors had begun and her grandmother's words had finished, she had swiftly swept through like a storm, rushing to the corridor outside the central control room. Looking out through the gaping wound, her small face immediately showed shock and bewilderment: "...Awakened?"

"What!?" The Countess's voice followed immediately: "Leticia, what happened!?"

"The dragon... has awakened..."

As Leticia said, the dragon is awakening from death. Perhaps the arrival of the travelers inadvertently activated this heart yearning to beat, or perhaps the distant memories being traced back also reached his soul, infusing this dragon, which should have been sealed away by time, with decaying obsessions and new desires. Thus, the dragon's remains, imprisoned here for thousands of years, enduring endless seals and long torment, began to move in the darkness.

With a rumble, the earth shook violently as if it were about to collapse, with just a simple movement of raising its front paws.

Grotesque cracks tore open violently, extending upwards from the foot of the mountain of corpses and blood, revealing a deep, dark expanse beneath, like the gaping maw of a wild beast ready to devour its prey, exuding a suffocating terror. Bones, blood, and decaying organs, solidified over the years, melted away, and the beast's remains crumbled like rocks, falling piece by piece to the earth with a low rumble, creating massive craters and sending dust billowing out like smoke, obscuring all vision.

Leticia had recovered from her initial shock. Feeling that her vision was limited inside the ship and it was difficult to see what was happening outside, she didn't hesitate to fly out of the crack and into the sky, looking down at the catastrophic scene. This time, she saw it clearly: centered on the snow-capped mountain where the dragon had trod, the entire forbidden land was collapsing. Yes, not just trembling, collapsing, or shattering, but utter collapse—only utter destruction could describe this earth-shattering, all-consuming scene.

The dragon's massive claws, deeply embedded in the dark red mountains, were slowly rising. The movement seemed sluggish, filled with the dullness and stagnation of millennia, as if every joint was groaning under unbearable pressure. Large swaths of the pale outer shell covering the bones were peeling away, revealing a deeper bone beneath—the solidified essence of death itself, now crumbling into dust and fragments, sliding down like an avalanche of snow.

With another, even louder roar echoing through the abyss, the dragon's other forepaw was violently pulled from the cliff face, causing the entire cliff to collapse and trembling violently, like a person buried in the earth struggling to pull themselves out of the ground. With this tremor, the mountain structure, built from countless corpses, decaying matter, and insect remains, completely crumbled, like flesh torn apart by an invisible force, revealing the dark, ominous, crimson soil beneath. Countless fragments rained down like blood, crashing onto the earth with dull, continuous thuds, stirring up clouds of dust and the aura of death. Then came the shattering of the rock walls. Faced with the sudden disaster, these rock layers, which had been covered and frozen for thousands of years by the ghastly corpses, proved to be more fragile than tofu. With the slightest pressure, they crumbled like a burst dam. But what was revealed from the cracks in the rock walls was not deeper soil, but a reddish, viscous liquid that emitted a scorching heat. Like magma, it evaporated the surrounding air and melted the collapsing sea of ​​bones on the outside. Before the boiling blood could even flow down, it evaporated into mist in the distorted heat, obscuring the darkness of the entire underground world.

The crimson lava flowing out of the mountain somehow reminded people of blood.

A huge, menacing beast, having drained all the blood from its body, was awakening from its slumber. This earth-shattering upheaval was caused by its sudden transformation.

Give me some cats