The Mighty Dragons Are Dead

Clatter, clatter.

The sound of carriage wheels turning came through.

Ivan didn’t get up, just slowly turned his head with the least amount of effort to look in the direction of the sound. He saw a line of carriages with flags fluttering on them. The flags were blue with embroidered purple-black flowers. He recognized these banners as symbols of nobility.

Of course, he didn’t know to which noble the flag belonged.

As he watched the caravan without any particular thought, the familiar sound of whips cracked again. His body sprang up as if fitted with springs, and he instinctively rose from the ground and stood up—not just him, but everyone did the same, stumbling to their feet.

The clerk was brandishing his whip and shouting something loudly.

Ivan couldn’t understand.

But he quickly did, as someone shouted in the wind language of the Eagle Kingdom, “Line up everyone! Follow the clerk’s commands and form a line behind each carriage! No talking, no moving around, stand properly!”

Ivan began to panic.

He didn’t know how to line up and had never done so; seeing others move, he moved too. Then he got a kick on his behind from one of the clerks, who was cursing incomprehensibly at him.

It seemed that the clerk had noticed the bewilderment on his face.

The clerk dragged him over and shoved him behind a serf, all the while cursing. Then he went to pull over another serf.

The disorganized group soon formed six awkward lines under the clerk’s direction.

The Sapphire person who spoke the wind language walked to the front of the lines, had a brief conversation with a few who seemed to be nobles, then addressed the many serfs, “You will be fed twice a day, traveling from afar to Coral Island, soon heading to your future home, Fresh Flower Town!”

Like the others, Ivan numbly watched the speaker, showing little reaction.

The speaker continued, “The Lord of Fresh Flower Town is the great bloodline of the Tulip Family, Baron Liszt, and he will be your master from now on! Remember your future home, Fresh Flower Town, remember your future master, Liszt Tulip, a great descendant of the Tulip Family!”

The last few sentences were shouted with vigor and authority.

However, the serfs below remained calm.

The speaker didn’t care at all; he waved his arms and his grizzled hair tousled in the wind, “Remember, from now on, you need to speak the Serpent Script of the Duchy of Sapphire. Of course, you are just a bunch of serfs, and no one cares if you can speak Serpent Script. But you need to remember these three terms: Fresh Flower Town, Tulip, and Lord Landlord!”

“Now, follow me and recite these three words!” he shouted, “Pronounce these words correctly, and you will enjoy a wonderful lunch. Understand?”

Lunch, in a flash, stirred the silent and numb line into action.

The starved serfs could not resist the temptation of lunch—they had been fed only twice a day on the ship, once in the morning and once in the afternoon, the rest of the time spent lying still.

A bold serf, trembling, responded, “Understood, my Lord.”

“Good, now start following me—Fresh Flower Town…”

“Fresh Flower Town.”

“Louder, Fresh Flower Town!”

“Fresh Flower Town!”

Ivan felt he was too hungry to speak, but for the approaching lunch, he still mustered the scant strength left in his body to shout along with the others, “Fresh Flower Town.”

The phrase wasn’t hard to pronounce.

It was easy to learn.

After shouting it a few times, he even felt a bit excited, having learned a foreign language.

“Very good, it seems you have mastered the term Fresh Flower Town, now follow me—Tulip…”

“Tulip.”

“It’s Tulip, idiot. Don’t curl your own tongue, say it again—Tulip…”

“Tulip.”

“Louder, Tulip.”

“Tulip!”

“Although it’s not standard, remember it. Here, everything on this land belongs to the Tulip Family! Your lord is the bloodline of the Tulip Family!” instructed the person who could speak the Wind Language. “Next, you need to understand how to express your loyalty when you see your lord. You must first kneel.”

A few serfs, upon hearing the instruction to kneel, immediately knelt down.

The other serfs followed suit and knelt as well.

In an instant, all six teams were kneeling.

The speaker was taken aback; he was no Liszt and didn’t dare to have the serfs kneel before him, so he quickly stepped aside, “Idiots, I didn’t tell you to kneel now. Never mind… Kneel to the Black Tulip banner on the carriage as if you were in the presence of Lord Landlord. Now, follow me and say—Lord Landlord…”

“Lord Landlord.”

Ivan knelt on the ground, joining the crowd and shouting, trying his best to straighten his tongue.

After a few repeats.

The person speaking Wind Language ran to a group that looked like nobles nearby and spoke in Serpent Script, “Mr. Goltai, is this manner of teaching acceptable?”

Wearing Flack·Abbieye’s attire, Goltai nodded, “The teaching before today’s lunch ends here. Let the serfs fill their stomachs first. Fresh Flower Town isn’t so poor that they can’t afford a meal. Old Geronte, you have worked hard. We’ll still need your translation for making arrangements for the serfs.”

Old Geronte smiled, “Serving Lord Landlord is Old Geronte’s honor and pleasure. Then I’ll tell them it’s time to eat.”

Then, addressing the serfs who were still kneeling on the ground, “You may rise now. Continue to stand in your teams. We will now start distributing lunch, one by one, everyone gets a share. No snatching is allowed! Otherwise, the clerk’s whip won’t be merciful.”

Upon hearing Old Geronte’s words,

The fluttering hearts of the serfs swiftly turned to surprise—they really had lunch!

And then, as the carts opened, one by one, they received types of food they had never seen before, served on bread plates, handed to them.

There were no cutlery like knives or forks, only food and bread plates.

Ivan received his portion, he recognized the bread plate; he often used bread plates and after some time, he would cook them so he could continue eating. On the bread plate, there was a half piece of dark bread and then a lot of large, small, round, flat things.

He couldn’t help reaching out to touch them; they were very hard.

Yet he didn’t know how to eat it.

Fortunately, he always did what others did. He saw others eat the dark bread, and some had already opened those things and eaten the soft content inside.

So, holding his bread plate, he sat on the ground, first biting fiercely into the dark bread. Then following others’ lead, he also opened that thing, which was quite easy to do because it already had cracks. A simple tug with his hands and it split apart. A strange, alluring scent quickly reached his nose.

After swallowing the bread, Ivan, seeing several others eat, finally mustered the courage to take a bite.

It was very soft, almost melting in his mouth.

He didn’t know what it was, but it tasted pretty good, so he stopped fussing and focused on eating his portion. Maybe it was because he had been hungry for so long that in just a short while, he had already eaten all the food. When the last shelled item went down, it was almost the first time in his life

he felt what “full” meant.

Just at that moment, Old Geronte’s shout reached Ivan’s ears once more, “It looks like you’ve all eaten your fill. You’re a bunch of lucky fellows, remember this feeling. From today on, in Fresh Flower Town, as long as you work hard for our great Lord Landlord, you will eat like this every day, eat until you’re full!”

“Ah!”

Ivan heard someone nearby gasp in astonishment.

He, too, felt shocked—To eat like this every day, to eat until full!

His mind buzzed blank, with only one thought left: “Fresh Flower Town, food.”