Chapter 63: Ancient Resonance

The following days passed in quiet tranquility.

The usually vivacious Xia Mi had suddenly lost her spark, turning uncharacteristically subdued. Lu Mingfei, who had grown used to having someone to trade mindless banter with, felt a strange sense of emptiness.

Seven days later, the CC1000 branch express finally pulled into the station, ready to depart for the academy of dragon slayers hidden away from the prying eyes of the world.

Cassell College.

It was a Western-style campus with a touch of antiquity—stone castles, fluttering white pigeons, and crimson pebble paths winding through lush green lawns.

The incident involving the collapse of Midgard Snake had already been reported to the school authorities. Chu Zihang and Lu Mingfei were prepared to give an honest, detailed account of the events.

Including the part where Zoran intervened.

This should have been an extremely grave matter: a being of immense power suddenly entering the campus. However, this crucial piece of information was wiped away by a single hand as it passed through the Principal's office. The Board of Trustees was left staring blankly at a flat, overly simplified summary report.

"Are you telling me that three students, through their own efforts, managed to physically wrench a thousand-ton track back into place? Does Angers take me for a fool?"

In Rome, Italy, Frost Gattuso sat behind a magnificent desk, sneering at his assistant, Parsi Gattuso. The Gattuso family, as one of the largest financial backers of Cassell College's Board and a core member of the hybrid organization known as the Secret Party, possessed untold power and wealth. They were also one of the board members who gave Angers the biggest headaches.

"We should have replaced Angers long ago. As for the Dragon King's bones, they shouldn't be kept in the academy's basement. They belong to us."

Rumor had it that the dragon bones were the vessels of Authority and Power. If the strength within the bones could be successfully decoded, even immortality would not be an impossible dream.

…

Meanwhile, in the Principal's office.

"So, you're saying that regarding the Dragon Bone Cross of the King of Bronze and Fire, I must consider the Gattuso family's opinion?" Zoran looked at Angers across the desk.

Angers nodded, his gaze fixed on Zoran.

This was a terrifying man. The other party had made no effort to hide his origins. He was not a being of this world. It was no wonder that Norma's search had yielded absolutely no information about him. Yet, Zoran undeniably possessed power, power enough to destroy a Dragon King.

Trading with such a person carried immense risk, but Angers didn't care. After just their first meeting, he had reached an agreement with Zoran. Regardless of the source of the power, as long as it could kill dragons, Angers was happy to sweep the dust and throw the doors wide open, even for a demon.

"The resistance from the Board is significant. They covet the dragon bones like dogs eyeing a meaty bone. And then, of course, there are various external factions," Angers said, lighting a cigar with a torch lighter.

He was an old man who defined elegance to the extreme. His clothes, his conduct, his style, every movement radiated the aura of a refined gentleman. He drank the finest vintage wines, smoked the most premium cigars, drove the sharpest sports cars, and wore the most expensive watches. Even on his suit, there was always a fresh red rose pinned to his lapel.

All luxury goods suited him perfectly; as the saying goes, "Fine clothes make the man." Anyone seeing him for the first time would have to admit he was an elegant elder.

But facing Zoran, even a man as flamboyant as Angers had to admit he felt overshadowed. Some elegance is built upon layers of wealth and status.

Others are different.

Angers was familiar with every luxury item suited for a man, yet he could not recognize the brand of the suit Zoran wore. It was as if it had been conjured out of thin air. This man wore no accessories to bolster his aura; aside from his clothes, everything about him was stark and minimal.

Yet, despite this, Zoran's aura was undiminished. It was something natural, born from the very core of his being.

A phrase suddenly popped into Angers' mind: Ancient Resonance.

Like a treasure unearthed from thousands of years of history, it was a flavor that naturally revealed itself through the refinement of time. Standing before Zoran, Angers felt a sense of detachment, like staring at an artifact in a museum.

Angers was a veteran collector. He had been to China, an ancient country with a vast history. During a visit to a museum there, he had once seen a bronze mask unearthed from a millennium ago. Through the glass, he had locked eyes with that mask.

The ancient resonance of that era had nearly overwhelmed him; the artists of antiquity had etched the primal essence of their time into every curve and line of the mask. The museum glass had acted as a divide between two eras.

It was exactly how he felt now, facing Zoran.

Angers felt that Zoran somewhat resembled that bronze mask. The lines of his face were equally sharp and defined. From the first moment they met until now, his expression had remained as calm as still water. It was a consistent, deep-seated indifference toward everything.

Standing there, he didn't seem to smile, nor did he possess excitement or any other visible emotion.

"That's roughly the situation. If you can resolve these headaches, I wouldn't even mind giving you that skeleton," Angers said, spreading his hands with the cigar clenched between his teeth.

The "bronze mask" opened its mouth and spoke to him: "Is it really that simple?"

Angers' lip twitched. He took the cigar between his fingers and exhaled a cloud of smoke. "The families on the Board are almost all core members of the Secret Party. The power they wield is staggering; nearly half the wealth in this world belongs to them."

He left some words unsaid. In his heart, he had already equated Zoran with something akin to a Dragon King, but even a Dragon King was not omnipotent. This was the modern age; high-tech weapons were endless. No matter how powerful a carbon-based organism might be, it would still bow before the mushroom cloud of a nuclear strike. And the Secret Party had that authority.

Zoran's gaze slowly shifted, looking toward the floor. It was as if he were seeing through the obstacles, peering down nearly a hundred meters into the academy's basement, resting on the core of an alchemical matrix.

A skeletal form shaped like a crucifix, the thing known as the Dragon Bone Cross stood there peacefully.

"I think you have misjudged the situation," Zoran said. "To me, the dragon bones are not particularly precious."

"Is that so?" Angers narrowed his eyes.

"I am merely a scholar, taking this opportunity to conduct some research," Zoran said.

"Everyone wants to research it." Angers was slightly confused; the man's gaze acted as if he had known from the start that the bones were hidden at the very bottom of the college. The lowest level of the "Ice Cellar" was called the Well of Oblivion; it was the safest place in the entire academy and the most suitable spot to hide things.

Perhaps the man didn't understand the Secret Party, but Angers felt he had explained things clearly enough. He assumed Zoran would back down.

"Tonight," Zoran spoke. "I will come to collect it personally."

Angers' lips moved as if he wanted to say something, but he remained seated in his custom-made comfortable chair until Zoran had left.

He didn't move until the glowing ember of the cigar burned his lip.