Chapter 137: Eyes of a Dragon and the Human Heart (1)

༺ Eyes of a Dragon and the Human Heart (1) ༻

Fragments of memories emerged like splintered shards. They were memories of a particular man bathed in a brilliant white light.

There were no flowers blooming in the fields. It was a desolate spring.

The western coast of the continent had many desert zones, a consequence of the scant rainfall caused by the perennial ocean currents.

Yet, when spring eventually came, rain clouds, propelled by the robust western winds, would sprinkle a fleeting shower, making it the only time one could glimpse at flowers in the west.

Yet, in the man’s memory, even with the arrival of spring, the west remained persistently barren.

Neigghhh, a melancholic whinny of a horse echoed through the tense camp. Tents pitched in every direction testified to the transformation of this place into a battleground.

Silently, the man dismounted. The soldiers he passed had faces etched with exhaustion and defeat.

The occasional remarks heard were nothing more than taunts similar to lamentations.

“Aren’t they crows?”

“Hey, shush… keep it down. They’re not the sort we commoners can afford to casually insult.”

He had grown accustomed to such treatment.

One of the followers trailing behind the man wanted to step forward in indignation, but the man raised a hand to stop him.

That gesture alone sufficed.

The soldiers, who had been mocking and sneering at the man, flinched at his action, hastily clearing a path. The grinding of teeth could be heard from all the way behind, yet the man remained silent, his lips never parting to utter a word.

He continued on until he stood before an unusually extravagant tent.

The immaculate white tent seemed out of place against the desert backdrop. It had intricate patterns of gold thread embroidered on it.

It was the symbol of the Imperial Family.

The man gazed solemnly at the insignia in the shape of a dragon head, then quietly stepped forward into the tent.