Dragon Clan: My Dad is Ange

After eating, people began to chat around the fire. Ye Fan also sat among the crowd, listening to the local customs and practices.

He watched the old man roasting the fire in silence, and then walked towards the old man.

"I just heard from the kids that there's a hero in your area named Carl. If I'm not mistaken, he's a half-blood."

"Can you tell me the sequel to that story?"

Ye Fan sat next to the old man and asked.

"It was the first rainy season after the drought. Carl suddenly began hunting those he had saved... Some say his eyes turned blood red and dragon wings sprouted from his back..."

The old man thought about it and told all the stories he knew.

"These are just legends passed down within the tribe. I have no idea if this person actually existed in the real world. After all, that happened thousands of years ago."

"In our area... you know, there's really no way to preserve historical documents."

The old man reminded that he didn't want this good young man in front of him to get caught up in the study of legends.

After all, even he was not sure whether the legend was true, and the other party might just waste time after studying it.

"Okay, I know."

Ye Fan nodded thoughtfully.

In the shadows where the campfire couldn't reach, the rescued dragon-like man suddenly twitched and let out a gurgling sound from his throat that was not like a human.

Although the sound he made was strange, anyone who heard it could feel the fear in it.

At the edge of the tribe, a tall, thin, even twisted, hunched figure was approaching.

He held a bell in his hand, which was constantly shaking under the control of his palm, making a tinkling sound.

The sound was very soft, but it echoed in the ears of the men in the tribe.

Hearing this voice that was deeply engraved in the depths of his soul, the man widened his eyes and roared, his golden pupils full of bloodshot.

He climbed down from the wooden bed trembling, and then staggered towards the direction where the bell came from.

The bonfire gradually went out, and the people in the tribe returned to their respective huts to rest.

Ye Fan sat cross-legged in the central open space, eyes closed, resting his mind. The night wind blew across the grassland, bringing with it the roars of wild animals and the chirping of insects in the distance.

These sounds may be noisy to ordinary people, but to Ye Fan, each sound has its own unique frequency and position.

Suddenly, a discordant ringing sound pierced his hearing range.

"Ding-ling... Ding-ling..."

The sound was extremely faint, as if coming from far away, yet strangely clear.

Ye Fan's golden eyes suddenly opened in the darkness, and his pupils shrank like needles.

There was something wrong with the ringtone - its frequency kept changing, forming a peculiar melody, like some kind of summons.

Ye Fan's gaze immediately turned to the thatched hut where the dragon-transformed man was housed. Sure enough, unnatural noises could be heard from within the hut.

He moved silently to the window and peered inside through the gaps in the straw.

The man he had brought back was twitching as he climbed to his feet. His golden eyes glowed faintly in the darkness, but they were greatly dilated, as if his mind was controlled by some power.

The man made a gurgling sound in his throat and saliva flowed from the corners of his mouth, but he still moved mechanically towards the door.

Ye Fan did not stop him immediately, but followed the man like a shadow. He wanted to see where this strange ringing sound would lead the man.

The man staggered through the grass outside the tribe and headed towards the dense forest in the distance.

In the moonlight, his scales reflected an eerie black light, like a snake shedding its skin and wriggling forward. As he got further away from the tribe, the sound of the bell became clearer and clearer.

"Ding-ling... Ding-ling..."

The sound seemed to hit the nerves directly, making the hair on the back of Ye Fan's neck stand on end.

He could sense that this was no ordinary metal bell—the sound contained some kind of spiritual fluctuation that specifically targeted dragon-blooded creatures.

After passing through a low bush, Ye Fan finally saw the source of the ringing sound.

In the moonlight, an absurdly tall figure stood silently. The figure, wearing a large black cloak, was at least 2.5 meters tall, yet incredibly thin, like a stretched, dead tree.

A pair of hands as dry as tree bark appeared under the cloak, one of which was holding a bronze bell, shaking it rhythmically.

Ye Fan's pupils contracted to the extreme. Even from a distance, he could sense the unusual aura emanating from the creature—it wasn't a human aura, but more like some ancient, time-forgotten existence.

After hearing the bell, the dragon-like man suddenly became anxious and almost crawled towards the tall and thin figure.

Ye Fan knew he couldn't wait any longer. He flashed behind the man like a ghost and hit his neck nerve with a precise knife. The man groaned and fell to the ground.

Chapter 134 Bronze Bell

Ye Fan quickly took out a special alchemical rope from his backpack - this was a restraint tool woven from dragon tendons and mithril, and even an A-level hybrid would find it difficult to break free.

He tied the man's hands and feet tightly, then threw him back to the open space in the center of the tribe like a sack.

After doing all this, Ye Fan turned back to the direction of the ringing sound.

The tall and thin figure still stood there, seemingly unconcerned about Ye Fan's intervention.

But when Ye Fan's eyes met it, two golden lights suddenly lit up in the shadow under the cloak.

Those were golden eyes—but brighter than any half-blood Ye Fan had ever seen, like two burning flames.

The hood of the cloak swayed slightly, revealing a face as dry and mummy-like underneath: the skin was close to the bones, the lips were shrunken, revealing the white teeth, and the bridge of the nose almost disappeared, leaving only two black nostrils.

"Who are you?"

Ye Fan asked in the tribal dialect, while his hand was already on the blood drink at his waist.

The tall, thin figure didn't answer, but continued to ring the bell. The sound suddenly became more rapid, like some kind of warning.

Ye Fan felt dizzy and immediately bit his tongue to stay awake.

He realized that the ringing sound itself was a means of attack that could directly affect the human nervous system.

Without further hesitation, he drew out his sword, the blade of which shone with a cold green light in the moonlight.

"One last time, who are you? And why are you controlling these villagers?"

Ye Fan took a step forward, with the tip of his sword pointing directly at the opponent's throat.

The tall, thin figure finally stopped ringing the bell.

It seemed that he had not spoken for too long, and his voice was very hoarse. Even Ye Fan was not sure whether he was speaking.

He opened his mouth and uttered a series of hoarse syllables in a language that was somewhat similar to the tribal dialect, but it was much older and the pronunciation was completely different.

Ye Fan could only barely make out a few words: "blood", "return" and "master".

Since communication was hopeless, Ye Fan decided to subdue the other party first.

He instantly burst into speed, and his long sword drew a green arc, going straight for the opponent's legs. The tall and thin figure seemed to have not expected Ye Fan's speed to be so fast, and only had time to retreat half a step.

"Uh-huh!"

The sword flashed, and the two skinny legs were neatly severed at the knees.

However, the expected blood splatter did not appear - only a small amount of black sticky liquid oozed out of the severed limb, more like rotten tree sap than blood.

What’s even more bizarre is that the tall and thin figure did not fall down after his legs were cut off.

He simply supported himself on the ground with his hands and turned his whole body upside down, his movements being too agile to be human.

The broken legs fell to the ground, and the finger-like toes began to wriggle, crawling towards the main body as if they had their own life.

Ye Fan widened his eyes. This scene was beyond his understanding.

Even for dragons, severed limbs take time to regenerate, and it's impossible to reattach them so quickly.

He immediately swung his sword at the two crawling broken legs, but the tall and thin figure let out a shrill scream, grabbed the bell with one hand and shook it violently, while with the other hand he "ran" into the depths of the jungle at an astonishing speed - yes, he ran upside down with his hands, at an astonishing speed.

Ye Fan chased a few steps and suddenly felt a strong sense of crisis.

He instinctively rolled to the side. The soil where he was standing suddenly bulged, and several black tentacles like tree roots broke out of the ground. If he hadn't dodged, his legs would have been entangled by now.

And the terrifying ringing sound also came, stimulating Ye Fan's mind almost like a shaking tsunami.

Ye Fan covered his head and forced himself to open his eyes to look at the other person. He took out five small knives from his windbreaker pocket and threw them forward.

He threw the three knives very accurately and all three landed on the opponent's body, but the opponent's escape speed did not slow down at all. He still ran away quickly while ringing the bell.

Along with the vibrating ringing sound, there was also a clear sound of metal breaking. Ye Fan saw that the bronze bell in the other party's hand was already full of cracks.

Obviously, the more times this alchemical item is shaken and the greater the force, the more obvious the damage will be.

The other party probably didn't expect that such a powerful "companion" would suddenly appear on this land, so he shook the bronze bell with all his strength.

Even if it causes damage, it doesn't matter.

Ye Fan half-knelt on the ground, resisting the strange ringing sound.

Due to this delay, the tall and thin figure disappeared into the depths of the dense forest, along with his two broken legs that could crawl automatically.

Only a few drops of black mucus on the ground proved that what had just happened was not an illusion.

The ringing faded away, and the sharp tingling in my head subsided.

Ye Fan stood in place, his golden eyes flickering in the darkness.

It's too late to chase him now. Even if we catch up, we might alert the enemy.

He bent down, picked up a little black mucus, and put it to his nose to sniff.

The smell was like rotting blood mixed with some kind of herb, and a sickly sweetness he couldn't place.

"It's not a pure-blooded dragon... nor is it an ordinary hybrid..." Ye Fan whispered to himself, "What is this?"

He thought of the legends the elders of the tribe had told him, about how the hero named Carl had suddenly started hunting his own people after saving the tribe, and how he had grown dragon wings... What if that wasn't just a legend?

What if Carl really existed, and left behind some kind of...legacy?

This is a land that has been isolated from the mainland for 1800 million years. It is not surprising that something new has developed here.

Ye Fan turned around and returned to the tribe, already having a plan in mind.

He needed to examine the dragon-transformed man who was brought back and study the black scales and the cause of the mutation.

More importantly, he needed to find the tall, thin figure's lair—it might well contain the ancient alchemical secrets that could transform ordinary people into hybrids.