“So many flowers!”
Xuefei sat amid a vast expanse of snow roses. She stood up and gazed into the distance.
It was still an endless sea of snow roses, fragrant and lovely.
Xuefei crouched down, smoothed out the wrinkles in her skirt from where she’d sat on it, and reached to pluck one flower. She held it in her hand, examining it closely. Xuefei loved flowers, especially these beautiful white blooms—they always brought her a sense of calm.
The sun was a bit blinding.
“Is this paradise?” Xuefei murmured to herself.
In her memory, she’d crossed the vast northern grasslands of the Elf Kingdom, and they had looked much like this. The only difference here was that the strange-smelling grasses had been replaced by this immense field of snow roses. It was as if a heavy snowfall had blanketed the prairie, and the little flower cradled in her palm was just a single cool snowflake.
“Sorry about that~”
“I’ll heal you right up.”
Xuefei began casting her healing magic. She stroked the broken stem where she’d snapped the flower and mended it seamlessly.
After all, many plants among the Demon Race possessed consciousness. Who knew—these snow roses might even be linked to the mind of some extraordinary tree spirit.
But…
That’s strange.
“Why am I here?”
Xuefei stood up again and lifted her head.
There was no sun.
A cool breeze lifted the hem of her dress. Xuefei touched her waistband, where a black rose was pinned—someone must have stuck it there when she wasn’t looking.
“Mama~”
“Hm?”
Suddenly, a familiar voice rang out. Xuefei looked down at the flower cradled in her hands.
Where was the snow rose?
It was clearly a little dragon—a miniature version of the Evil Dragon, complete with scales and wings, lying right there in her palm.
“Tilly? Tilly?”
“It’s me, Mama~ Hee hee hee, I missed you, Mama~”
“How did you turn into this?”
“Hmph, I’ve never been human to begin with. I’m an Evil Dragon—this is my true form. Give me a hug, Mama~”
The little dragon yawned, stretched out, and acted all cute, baring a row of adorable little milk teeth.
“Oh! Ah! Sure!”
Xuefei immediately placed her hand on Tilly’s draconic body and stroked her like a kitten. She let out an endearing sound.
“Awoo~”
“Tilly, why are you in a place like this?”
“I dunno, hee hee~”
“What do you mean, you don’t know…”
“Mama gave birth to me, what about you guys?” The little Evil Dragon opened her eyes and peered up at Xuefei. “Look, they don’t know either, hee hee~”
Tilly pointed her dragon claw toward the vast field of snow roses nearby.
Then, those snow roses all spoke in voices identical to Tilly’s:
“Mama?”
“Mama, Mama~”
“Mama, look over here~”
Xuefei froze. She couldn’t believe it—these snow roses were talking!
And it wasn’t just that patch. Nearly every flower around her began chirping in cute voices all at once, repeating “Mama” over and over. For a moment, Xuefei thought she’d stumbled into Tilly’s personal playground.
Stunned, she stared down at the little Evil Dragon in her arms.
“They’re all… all Tilly? All my daughters?!”
“Hee hee.”
Before Tilly could respond, the voices swirling around Xuefei’s ears grew louder and more chaotic, eventually drowning out even her conversation with Tilly. It was like a horde of invisible clones of her, crowding in close.
“Mama, Mama, Mama~”
“Mama, why won’t you look at me? I want Mama~”
“Mama Xuefei~”
“Does Mama not care about me anymore? Waaah…”
Xuefei was at a complete loss.
She had no idea what was happening. She didn’t dare shout, for fear of scaring her daughters. So she just stood there in a daze, unsure what to do, letting the voices overwhelm her.
What finally cut through it all was a mature voice.
“Xuefei.”
She turned around and saw a black sun.
It seemed to have replaced the sky’s original true sun—like a black hole, either devouring or emitting light; it was impossible to tell.
Then, the black sun began to shrink, drawing closer and closer to her.
Xuefei knew whose voice it was.
“Leia?” she cried out in surprise. At this point, though, nothing could shock her anymore.
The sky didn’t dim with the sun’s disappearance. The Tilly voices faded away. And when that sun was just a few meters from her, it shifted into human form… exactly as Xuefei had expected.
It was Leia—the one she knew best.
But she seemed a little different, too?
Grinning wickedly like a fairy-tale villain, she said, “The sun of this world? I’m going to devour you~”
“Ah?”
Hadn’t the sun disappeared yet?
Xuefei turned her head, but she still couldn’t spot that sun hanging in the sky.
When she spun back around, Leia was already pressed right up against her, giving off that familiar fragrance Xuefei knew so well.
“Not running?” Leia sounded utterly shocked.
“What are you playing at, Leia? Where are we?”
No.
Xuefei froze in place.
She couldn’t remember… what had led up to this, or what came next…
Where had she come from? Where was she headed?
She had no idea…
That was right. Everything happening outside her understanding didn’t follow the normal rules of her world.
She absolutely couldn’t let herself reason based on this bizarre “logic.”
So she reached a simple conclusion.
“Am I… dreaming?”
The Leia standing before her was just a dream figure.
She wouldn’t actually eat her—at worst, she’d tease her a little, but nothing more…
“If you don’t run, I’m really going to devour you,” Leia said, crossing her arms.
“This place is…”
Xuefei started to explain that it was all a dream, but Leia gave her no chance.
She meant business!
In a flash, Leia lunged and pinned Xuefei to the ground. She greedily tore at Xuefei’s clothes, and then…
Xuefei’s belly flared with scorching heat, as if someone had shoved a blazing sun inside her.
Dragons weren’t supposed to fear high temperatures! What the hell was going on? What was Leia planning to do to her belly?
Hadn’t she wanted a child? Was she trying to blow it up now?
Leia’s other hand clamped around Xuefei’s neck. Both spots burned with intense heat, but it was like dipping your feet into water that’s too hot at first—gradually, Xuefei realized the scorching sensation had faded into comforting warmth.
“Leia?”
Xuefei craned her neck, trying to see what she was up to.
But the moment she lifted her head, the Leia pinning her down sealed her lips with a fierce kiss, muffling any sound. With her neck gripped and her belly pressed down, anyone would think this was some cruel, inhumane “torture execution.”
Leia’s terrifying ferocity made Xuefei desperate to wake from the nightmare.
She struggled until the heat in her lower abdomen and neck completely dissipated. The weight of Leia on top of her vanished too. Xuefei raised her head and opened her eyes, finding herself lying still on the soft bedding of the Dragon Nest.
The Dragon Egg cradled in her arms radiated a soothing warmth.
She let out a sigh. “What a horrible nightmare.”
Then, on instinct, Xuefei glanced down.
She spotted something odd.
A heart-shaped pattern, pulsing with strange energy, glowed faintly on her pale, barely covered belly.
“This is…?!”
