Chapter 51: A Visit
Deep within the Ash Plains, there was a forest of stone.
Lia flew for half an hour before finding the place—it wasn't hard to find, it was just too hard to locate.
The Ash Plains itself was desolate, like a corner forgotten by the world, and this stone forest was hidden in the deepest part of the plains, shrouded by volcanic ash fog that never dispersed. Looking down from the sky, it was a monochrome gray, and nothing could be seen clearly.
She landed on the tallest stone pillar, reverted to her human form, and looked around.
The stone forest was larger than she had imagined.
Black stone pillars pierced out of the gray earth. The tallest were twenty or thirty meters high, and the shortest were seven or eight meters. They were packed densely together, resembling a petrified forest.
Countless holes had been eroded into the surface of the pillars by the wind. When the wind blew, it emitted a mournful sound, like someone crying, or perhaps like someone laughing.
The ground was covered in a thick layer of ash, deep enough to sink past one's ankles with every step.
Lia walked forward through the ash. After about a mile, a wooden sign appeared before her.
The sign was inserted between two stone pillars, about as tall as a person. The wood was already blackened and moldy, and the edges were covered in moss, but the writing on it was still clear—it was carved with claws, deeply etched, with every stroke showing seriousness:
"Entering requires solving a riddle."
"Those who fail to solve it, please leave your treasures."
"Those who succeed, please stay a while—to chat with me."
"Note: Chatting is optional. Just solve the riddle for me and you can leave. I won't force you."
Lia stared at the wooden sign for three seconds.
The last sentence, after "I won't force you," also had a crooked smiley face drawn next to it.
She walked around the sign and continued forward.
Passing through a section of pillars, the view suddenly opened up.
It was an open space, about two hundred square meters, the ground cleared spotlessly and covered with fine white pebbles.
In the center of the clearing stood a stone table and two stone stools. On the table were a teapot and teacups—all carved from stone. The craftsmanship was rough, but they were usable.
Behind the clearing was a stone mountain, and at the foot of the mountain, a cave entrance had been opened. A wooden sign was also inserted at the entrance:
"Lair Territory."
"Those who successfully solve the riddle may enter."
"Those who fail, please voluntarily go to the cave on the left to hand over treasures."
"Note: There is tea and snacks in the left cave. Don't be polite."
Lia stared at the words "Don't be polite," and the corner of her mouth twitched slightly.
Then she heard a sound.
It came from inside the cave.
Intermittently, rambling, as if someone was talking to himself:
"No... the answer to this riddle should be... No, no, too simple... But if it's not this, what else could it be... Damn it, damn it, how could I forget the answer to the question I made up myself..."
Lia stood still and listened for a minute.
The voice continued, the tone growing more anxious, more frantic.
She raised her foot and walked towards the cave entrance.
The cave was not deep; walking about twenty meters inside brought her to the end.
It was a large circular hall, about a hundred square meters, a naturally formed cavern that had been modified into a living area.
The surrounding walls were chiseled with more than a dozen niches, each niche holding items: some held books, some held scrolls, some held bottles and jars, and some held sparkling gems.
The floor was paved with flat flagstones, and the gaps between the stones were stuffed with—stuffed with parchment covered in writing.
Parchment was everywhere.
It was piled on the table, stacked on the stools, spread across the floor, and even pasted on the walls.
Some were densely written, some only had a few lines, some were covered in doodles, and some were crumpled into balls and thrown in the corner.
In the center of the hall, in front of a huge stone table, squatted a dragon.
Not lying down, but squatting.
His hind legs were bent, his body leaning forward, his two foreclaws braced on the tabletop, his head close to a magic lamp, staring intently at a piece of parchment, scratching his head in frustration.
His physique was stout, and his scales were copper-red, glowing warmly under the halo of the magic lamp.
At that moment, his dragon face was filled with conflict: his brow was furrowed into a knot, his eyeballs darted around, his mouth opened and closed intermittently, and his tail unconsciously swept across the ground, making the parchments rustle.
Lia stood at the cave entrance, watching him quietly.
One minute.
Two minutes.
Three minutes.
The dragon finally moved—he suddenly raised his head, whipped his tail, and roared towards the sky:
"Aaaaaah—What on earth is it!!!"
After shouting, he lowered his head and continued to stare at the parchment, his expression shifting from conflict to grievance, from grievance to despair, and from despair to—
"Wuwuwu, how could I forget my own riddle's answer... Wuwuwu, am I getting old... Wuwuwu, I'm only twelve hundred years old..."
Lia was silent for three seconds.
Then she spoke, her voice not loud, but exceptionally clear in the empty cave:
"Need help?"
The dragon froze abruptly.
The next second, with an agility completely unbefitting his size, he sprang up, turned around, pushed off the ground with his hind legs, leaned back, and protected his chest with his foreclaws, striking a standard defensive posture—then he knocked over the stone stool behind him, which crashed onto the ground, and then knocked over the nearby bookshelf, which collapsed with a roar, showering him with books, scrolls, and parchment.
He was buried in the pile of paper, with only his eyes showing, staring at the cave entrance in terror.
"Who, who are you?!"
Lia looked at him.
His copper-colored scales were covered in dust, a book lay open on his head, his left claw clutched a scroll, his right claw pressed against an overturned teacup, and the tip of his tail was pinned beneath the bookshelf, which he was desperately trying to pull out.
Those eyes—amber, round—were currently wide open like two bronze bells, filled with shock, vigilance, and a hint of—
Curiosity.
Lia said calmly: "Just passing through."
The dragon paused: "Passing through? The area for three hundred miles around here is nothing but ash. What are you passing through?"
Lia did not change her expression: "I got lost."
The dragon paused for another second, then slowly relaxed. He shook the book off his head, pulled his tail free from under the shelf, climbed out of the paper pile, shook the dust off his body, and tried hard to puff out his chest, adopting an air of 'I am very composed.'
"Oh, lost. Well, well, then you've come to the right place! I, Lorenzos Theo Doronto, a Copper Dragon, know this plain like the back of my hand! You want to ask for directions, right? Ask away!"
Lia looked at him.
She looked at the crest of scales sticking up on his head—which had been hit by the book just now.
She looked at the stray whisker on the corner of his mouth—which had a speck of pastry crumb stuck to it.
She looked at the piece of parchment wrapped around the tip of his tail—which read: "Today's riddle: What gets shorter the more you walk?"
She retracted her gaze and looked at the parchment he had been staring at for so long.
The paper held one line of writing:
"I have wings but cannot fly, I have scales but cannot swim, I have wealth but cannot spend. What am I?"
Below it were drawn a dozen horizontal lines, and on each line was written an answer that had been crossed out:
"Bird?" Crossed out.
"Fish?" Crossed out.
"Turtle?" Crossed out.
"Seashell?" Crossed out.
"Something that died?" Crossed out.
"Me?" Crossed out, with a note next to it: "Not me! I'm still alive!"
Lia stared at the line of text for three seconds.
Then she raised her hand and pointed at the paper: "You're stuck on this one?"
Lorenzos followed her finger's direction, and his face instantly flushed—so red that it showed through his scales.
"Ah? That? That's just something I wrote casually! I'm not stuck! I was just—just testing it! Yes, testing! Testing to see if there were any loopholes in this riddle!"
Lia didn't speak.
Lorenzos's face grew redder.
"Stop—stop staring! I just couldn't recall it for a moment! It's normal! Who doesn't forget things sometimes! I'm twelve hundred years old, what's wrong with forgetting a riddle answer!"
Lia still didn't speak.
Lorenzos's voice grew quieter and quieter, finally turning into a mumble: "...I just can't remember..."
The silence lasted for three seconds.
Lia spoke: "Dragon corpse."
Lorenzos froze: "Huh?"
"The answer," Lia pointed at the paper. "Has wings but cannot fly, has scales but cannot swim, has wealth but cannot spend—it is a dead dragon. Cannot fly because it's dead, cannot swim because it's not in water, wealth cannot be spent because it's funerary treasure."
Lorenzos's pupils contracted sharply.
He lowered his head to stare at the paper, at that line of text, at the crossed-out answers below. His mouth opened and closed, closed and opened, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down.
Three seconds later.
"Holy crap!!!" He sprang up, his tail whipping around like a windmill. "Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes! That's it! I remember now! This is a riddle I made up myself! It's a Dragon Corpse! It's a Dragon Corpse!"
He rushed to the stone table, grabbed a quill, and scribbled the two large characters [Dragon Corpse] on the paper. Then he held up the paper as if holding a rare treasure, his eyes full of tears.
"Wuwuwu, I finally remembered... Wuwuwu, I've been holding this in for three days... Three days without sleep... Wuwuwu..."
Lia watched him.
The system popped up at the appropriate time:
"Target: Lorenzos Theo Doronto."
"Race: Copper Dragon (Pureblood)."
"Age: Mature Phase (1200 years old)."
"Current Emotion: Excited (Finally solved the riddle) + Moved (Someone helped) + Social Anxiety Attack (Strange dragon in his own lair)."
"Special Note: This individual must solve a riddle every day, otherwise anxiety symptoms will occur. Currently stuck on this riddle for three days, mild depression, insomnia, and loss of appetite have already appeared. If he remains stuck, it might lead to a rampage."
Lia closed the panel.
Lorenzos finally calmed down, carefully folded the piece of parchment, and tucked it into his chest—not his ordinary chest, but a special compartment under his scales used for hiding things.
Then he turned around, facing Lia directly, took a deep breath, and tried to adopt a solemn expression.
"Thank you. What is your name?"
Lia looked at him.
She looked at his face, which was trying hard to look serious but trembled slightly due to excitement.
"Livia Kelsina Novati."
Lorenzos's pupils shook again.
He stared at her, from head to toe, from top to bottom, examining her inch by inch. His gaze grew brighter and brighter, like two small suns.
"Livia Kelsina Novati..." he repeated muttering, his voice trembling. "The legendary Red Dragon genius who could recite the Dragon Genealogy at age three, solve ancient dragon riddles at five, and create a hundred riddles of her own by age ten?"
Lia was silent for a second.
System, did you make up some strange background story for me?
System:
"This system has not fabricated any background stories. This information originates from rumors circulating within the Copper Dragons and is unrelated to this system."
Lorenzos had already rushed in front of her and grabbed her hand—as soon as he touched it, he retracted it as if burned. He pulled out a handkerchief from his chest, wiped his hand, and then grasped hers again through the cloth.
"Do you know! I have heard of you! The entire Copper Dragon clan has heard of you! You don't just solve riddles, you solve the Dragon's life! Your riddle-solving logic has overturned the entire riddle community! You—"
He suddenly stopped, staring into her eyes, his expression turning serious.
"Wait a moment."
Lia looked at him.
Lorenzos let go of her hand, took a step back, scrutinized her up and down, his gaze becoming sharp.
"You just said you came here because you were lost?"
Lia did not change her expression: "Mm."
Lorenzos narrowed his eyes: "The Ash Plains stretches three hundred miles in every direction, all ash, without any reference point. You got lost all the way here?"
Lia: "Mm."
Lorenzos continued to narrow his eyes: "But you immediately recognized that as a Dragon Corpse, which means you have deep research into Dragon Riddles. Would a Red Dragon with deep research into Dragon Riddles come to a Copper Dragon's secluded dwelling for no reason?"
Lia was silent for a second.
Then she spoke, her tone still calm: "I was looking for you."
Lorenzos froze: "Looking for me? Why?"
"To ask some questions."
"What questions?"
"About Dragon history. About chaos homogeneity theory. About the ancient past of Tiamat and Bahamut."
Lorenzos's pupils contracted again.
He stared at her, and his gaze changed.
He was no longer the goofy dragon who was frantic because he couldn't solve a riddle, but a true old fellow who had lived for twelve hundred years, with something churning deep within his eyes.
"How do you know I know these things?"
Lia looked at him: "Because you have lived for twelve hundred years. Because you created three hundred riddles, thirty of which involve the origin of dragons. Because your diary—"
She paused and pointed to the iron box, half a meter square, in the corner of the wall.
The box was covered in magical runes, and a faint blue light flowed between them.
"The password for that box is the riddle's answer. It changes daily."
Lorenzos was silent for a long time.
Then he laughed.
It wasn't the goofy laugh from before, but another kind of laugh—complex, meaningful, carrying a hint of vigilance, a hint of curiosity, and a hint of admiration.
"Interesting," he said. "A Red Dragon travels thousands of miles to the Ash Plains to find me, a Copper Dragon, to ask about chaos homogeneity theory and the past of Tiamat and Bahamut."
He paused and stared into her eyes.
"You know these things. Among the dragons, besides those few immortal old ones among the Metallic Dragon, I know them best. But on what grounds do you think I will tell you?"
Lia looked at him.
"You just said that since I helped you solve the riddle, you owe me one."
Lorenzos froze.
"Th-that was just something said in passing—"
"You said any request."
"W-well, I was in an excited state—"
"Copper Dragons value promises the most," Lia interrupted him. "That's written as the first rule in your clan codes. 'Words must be trusted, actions must be decisive, a promise is worth a thousand pieces of gold, unshakable until death.'"
Lorenzos opened his mouth but couldn't speak.
Lia looked at him and waited for three seconds.
Then she turned and walked toward the cave entrance.
"Wait!" Lorenzos chased after her. "Where are you going?"
"If you don't want to say, I won't force you."
"It's not—I didn't say I wouldn't say—"
"Then say it."
Lorenzos choked.
He stared at her back, at the long hair that shimmered dark red under the magic lamp's light, at those calm golden eyes that showed no emotion. He was silent for a long time.
Then he sighed.
"Fine. But I have a condition."
Lia turned around.
Lorenzos puffed out his chest, trying hard to adopt a negotiating posture: "I want a formal contest with you. A riddle duel. I will pose ten riddles, and if you answer them all correctly, I will agree to any request you have. If you get one wrong—"
He paused, his eyes darting around: "If you get one wrong, you have to stay here and keep me company solving riddles for a month."
Lia looked at him.
"Any request?"
Lorenzos stood firm: "Any request."
Lia nodded.
"Deal."