Dragon Clan: My Dad is Ange

Elna's pupils contracted slightly. The stalactites at the top of the cave began to tremble, and small pieces of gravel fell down.

"You think you're doing charity?"

Ye Fan took a step forward, and the sole of his boot crushed a glowing crystal:

"Don't be ridiculous. You're just afraid to admit it—you're just as trapped in the past as they are."

These words were like a knife, stabbing precisely into Elna's most vulnerable wound.

Her long hair suddenly grew in volume, dancing behind her like a living thing. The light in the entire cave began to distort, and countless tormented faces appeared on the rock walls.

"You don't understand at all!" Elna's voice wavered for the first time. "I could have devoured them! I could have been like the other first-generation species—"

"But you're a coward," Ye Fan interrupted her. "You didn't dare to kill, and you didn't dare to let go. In the end, you created this weird, shabby place, and you're so proud of yourself."

The air freezes.

Elna's three-meter-tall body trembled slightly, and fine scales appeared on her white robe. When her voice rang out again, it carried the chill of glaciers colliding:

"What about you, Ye Fan? You keep saying you want to kill the Black King, isn't it also to protect those ant-like humans?"

"It's different." Ye Fan took out a half-flattened pack of cigarettes from his pocket, took out a cigarette and lit it. "I kill people and I never make excuses for myself."

Smoke swirled between the two of them.

Elna suddenly realized that this human's posture was as relaxed as if he was standing in his own backyard.

That fearless aura made her feel emotional.

"Give me the power." Ye Fan blew out a smoke ring, "I will teach you how to be a qualified tyrant."

"I don't want your charity. Although it sounds a bit opportunistic, I have already seized this authority."

Although he knew that he was taking advantage of the situation, Ye Fan felt comfortable saying this.

"It's just some quick talk. If it makes you happy, then I'm happy to accompany you."

Elna said expressionlessly.

"No, now that you've said that, how can I make you unhappy?"

Ye Fan curled his lips and threw the cigarette butt at Elna.

He seldom smoked, and the pack he carried was for negotiation purposes, but now it could be used to humiliate the other party.

Looking at the cigarette butt that flew towards her and then fell to the ground, veins popped out on Elna's forehead.

She could understand why the person in front of her was unhappy with her, but this person was a little... too tactful.

The other party wanted power and the Nibelungen, but also wanted to take revenge on her, so he acted so shamelessly.

A person of high bloodline who should be the head of a clan and the ruler of a country in the outside world now looks like the lowest of scoundrels and gangsters.

"Oh." Elna sighed. She raised her hand and pressed the tip of her index finger on Ye Fan's forehead.

"You don't need to use this kind of thing to express your dissatisfaction. I will take responsibility for my mistakes. If I have to break my hands, I will break my hands. If I have to break my feet, I will break my feet..."

"It is your turn to die, but please remember to execute that dark emperor on the mountaintop!"

Golden light exploded.

Ye Fan felt like lava was pouring into his temples.

Countless fragments of memories exploded in his mind—the lonely city on the ice field, the bloody battle between the bronze pillars.

When the pain subsided, he found himself floating above a sea of ​​blood. Elna was melting, turning into a golden liquid like a candle, pouring into his body.

"Eat my bones and blood." Her voice came from all directions. "Carry my sins and move on. Remember, eternity is not the end..."

The last word dissipated into a sigh.

Ye Fan fell heavily to the ground in the cave, his skin glowing. He curled up and retched, but couldn't spit out anything.

After an unknown amount of time, the light gradually faded.

Ye Fan stood up shakily and found that the wound on his palm had healed, leaving only a light golden scar.

The fragments of the Blooddrinking Sword flew back into his hand, reborn under the tempering of the Eternal Power. Dark golden lines flowed across the blade, as if sealing countless stars.

"It's time to go back."

Ye Fan said to the air.

As we emerged from the cave, the sun was rising above the sea. The dragon blood trees of Socotra stretched out their branches in the morning light, like thousands of open red umbrellas.

Ye Fan took out his satellite phone and dialed Finkel's number.

"Hello?" The sound of chewing potato chips came from the other end of the line. "Junior, are you still alive? The Executive Department is about to hold a memorial service for you."

"Prepare the helicopter." Ye Fan looked at the seagulls in the distance, "And tell the equipment department that I want to apply for one ton of TNT."

"How many?!"

"One ton." Ye Fan said seriously, "I'm going to blow up a cave."

There were coughs and flurries of activity on the other end of the line. Finkel lowered his voice and asked, "What did you find?"

"A dragon relic. I'll have the logistics department clear out any important items first."

Ye Fan hung up the phone and walked from the cave to the tribe.

Behind him, the shadow of the dragon blood tree was stretched out by the sunlight, like countless pairs of hands waving goodbye.

Chapter 145 Carl's Resurgence

After Ye Fan left, Carl's scattered blood quietly squirmed on the cold and damp ground.

The dark red liquid gathered together as if it had life, gradually forming a thin blood line, winding its way into the depths of darkness.

Ye Fan stood in the open space in the center of the tribe, and the morning light cast a golden edge on his profile.

The women were busy cutting up the giant elephant, and the children gathered around them, their dark eyes sparkling with curiosity and awe.

Looking at the giant elephant in front of him, Ye Fan knew that in such a hot day, if he left it for another two days, the elephant would no longer be edible.

At this time, you can only use some unconventional preservation methods.

"The Emperor of Ice." Ye Fan said softly.

A cold azure air surged out from his palm and wrapped around the mountain of elephant flesh like a living thing.

In the blink of an eye, a layer of crystal frost condensed on the surface of the bright red meat, reflecting colorful light in the sunlight.

"Is this the true power of a top-tier half-blood?"

The old patriarch Qasim knelt on the ground, his dry fingers touched the ice, but were quickly frozen back.

He turned and shouted to his people in Arabic, "We must always remember Mr. Ye's kindness. He avenged our men and also left us food!"

Ye Fan coughed awkwardly and took out a satellite phone from the inner pocket of his windbreaker.

After dialing the number, Finkel's lazy voice immediately came: "Executive Department Special Operations Team, would you like to order pizza or sushi?"

"It's me." Ye Fan said helplessly, "Contact the Equipment Department. A large amount of alchemical bronze was discovered on Socotra Island. I need at least three transport helicopters."

There was the sound of shuffling papers on the other end of the line. "Bronze? What's the purity? Wait... three transport helicopters!?"

"You should know you're talking about the Executive Department's transport helicopter! That thing is a rare masterpiece from the Equipment Department, and one of the few that doesn't have a bomb."

"Each one can carry five tons of cargo."

"That should be about right. There's quite a lot of bronze."

Ye Fan glanced at the children playing in the distance and lowered his voice:

"By the way, have the Executive Department send someone who speaks Arabic. The tribes here need resettlement. Also, prepare two boxes of antibiotics and children's vaccines."

"Well, you are the boss of the Lionheart Club and the Student Union. The Executive Department will definitely meet your demands."

Fenggege said nonchalantly on the other end.

After hanging up the phone, Ye Fan walked towards the women who were building a new hut.

They were using dragon blood tree resin mixed with clay to repair the damaged wall. Seeing Ye Fan approaching, the oldest woman wiped the sweat from her forehead and smiled with missing front teeth.

"That's incredibly inefficient."

Ye Fan squatted down and drew a simple alchemical matrix on the ground with his fingers.

As he injected dragon blood, the minerals in the soil began to reorganize and soon solidified into hard gray-white plates.

The women exclaimed in amazement, and a brave child reached out to touch it and screamed in pain from the burns.

Ye Fan smiled and ruffled his curly hair: "We can use it once it cools down. It's stronger than mud."

As night fell, Ye Fan sat by the campfire and taught several young people how to use the compound bow he brought.

The old patriarch came over holding a wine glass made of coconut shell, and the dancing flames were reflected in his turbid eyes.

"Mr. Ye," the old man said in broken English, "are you leaving tomorrow?"

Ye Fan nodded and pulled out a military satellite phone from his pocket: "This is for you. Press and hold the 1 button to contact me directly. The other buttons have the emergency numbers of the Yemeni government and the Red Cross stored in them."

The old man took it tremblingly, as if holding a holy relic. In the distance came the sounds of children playing hide-and-seek around the new house that had just been built.

"Thank you so much, Mr. Ye..."

The old man was silent for a while, then bent his knees and prepared to kneel to Ye Fan.

This was a Chinese custom he had heard about, and he only wanted to express his gratitude to Ye Fan in this way.

The repulsive force rose from the earth in the opposite direction. It was the reverse royal power that lifted up the old man's body, like a gentle breeze, preventing him from kneeling.

"A clan leader cannot kneel. I feel guilty towards you and your entire clan. I came here to rescue those men and let you return to your original lives."

Ye Fan helped the old man up, but how could the old man's actions escape the eyes of the first generation?

"Mr. Ye, this is not your problem."

The old man retorted, but Ye Fan shook his head firmly, not allowing him to say anything more.

---

At the same time, in the ancient royal city thirty meters underground.

The dark red blood meandered through the bronze corridor like a living snake.