“I like that defiant attitude. Frost, you see, your nephew is actually more like me than like you…” Anjou chuckled, “Caesar, when you faced the Dragon King Norton directly, did you feel the overwhelming power of your opponent?”
Caesar’s expression grew solemn. After a moment of silence, he nodded, “An overwhelming power, an aura like a tidal wave, suffocating.”
“Yes, nothing trains a dragon slayer better than experiencing the battlefield and the scent of blood firsthand. You felt the Dragon King’s power—that was absolute strength, not something that can be resisted by sheer numbers. We all have dragon blood; dragons are our partial ancestors. Our bloodline makes us unconsciously want to submit to them. Only the strongest will and the most excellent bloodline can maintain dignity in front of a Dragon King and kill him! Thus, what Cassell College aims to cultivate is not just a group of people, but the elite among the elite, heroes among heroes, like the first Lionheart Society president, Manecke Cassell—unparalleled.” Anjou stared into Caesar’s eyes, his voice low. “Because the worst times… are coming.”
“The worst times?”
“The Dragon Raja’s four Kings—Dragon Kings from the other three thrones—will awaken. A collective awakening was once foretold in myth. Norton’s awakening proves this prophecy. You wanted to know when the next Dragon King would awaken? Perhaps… today!”
“A collective awakening…?” Caesar took a deep breath.
“Thus, we can no longer wait. We must select the best from among the candidates with excellent bloodlines and devote all our resources to training them. They will be the Dragon King’s nemesis,” Anjou paused, “the savior of the world.”
“Me?” Caesar pointed at himself.
“Possibly you,” Lisa said.
“If by devoting all your resources you mean adding courses and arranging training, then count me out. I’m not good at that. My GPA is only 2.7—just as bad as the former president’s at Yale, as the Principal already mentioned,” Caesar shrugged.
“No, what we aim to strengthen is your bloodline,” Frost said slowly.
“Strengthen my bloodline?”
“Do you know that someone can possess more than two Yanlings?”
“No.”
“Do you know that some hybrids can reach the strength of purebloods?”
“No.”
“Do you know about the so-called ‘Hybrid Kings’?”
“Comparable to the Four Kings?”
“Perhaps even surpassing the Dragon Kings!” Frost spoke each word with emphasis. “This is the ‘Nibelungen Plan’—to strengthen the bloodline, to break the limits of hybrids, to surpass the theories in textbooks. Caesar, this is not mere talk; the Secret Party Council of Elders can make it happen. This is a great gift, and we are choosing someone to bestow it upon. To accept this gift means gaining power, but it also means making a great sacrifice. You will face peril, even death. Are you willing?”
For once, Caesar looked directly at his uncle, whose solemn face resembled that of a preaching priest. The meeting room was dead silent; everyone was watching Caesar.
Caesar licked his lips. “Why does this feel like… a wedding vow?”
“Caesar!” Frost was furious.
Anjou, however, laughed out loud.
“Great sacrifices, peril, risking my life—none of that matters. If sacrificing these trivial things means reaching the pinnacle of hybrids, there are plenty of people in the College willing to accept it,” Caesar raised an eyebrow, “I’m just curious why I was chosen.”
“Because you’re exceptional,” Anjou said.
“Why not Chu Zihang?”
“He has no experience of directly killing a Dragon King, unlike you.”
“Why not Lu Mingfei?”
Anjou smiled, “Mingfei is still a novice; many people believe rating him as S-Rank was my mistake.”
“But you value him. He once shot at a Dragon King and gravely wounded the target. When we faced Constantine, you used ‘Yanling: Time Zero’ and handed him the sniper rifle—there’s no doubt you expected him to make the final shot, even though he missed,” Caesar said coldly. “You might casually assign an S-Rank to someone, but I don’t believe you’d entrust your life to a worthless person when you’re in close combat with a Dragon King.”
“And there’s also your uncle, who insists you are the best,” Anjou added. “He says ability isn’t just about bloodline; it also involves organization and leadership. We need not only talent but also a leader people can follow. Among your generation, you shine as a leader—something even Chu Zihang can’t match. Under your leadership, the Student Union has grown to rival the Lionheart Society. That’s why we selected you as the first candidate for the ‘Nibelungen Plan.’”
Frost spoke again, his voice now calm and measured. “Caesar, now do you understand? The family has always had selfless love and high hopes for you…”
Such words coming from Frost Gattuso were raw praise and support, demonstrating the determination to elevate Caesar to greatness. The School Board members remained silent; no one objected, for the list of candidates had been meticulously curated from the start. Caesar was undoubtedly the best choice, which had earned universal recognition.
Caesar kept his head down, toying with his fingers as he listened to his uncle.
“Uncle, have you ever lost the most important person in your life?” He slowly raised his head, asking an odd question.
“Oh, I forgot. Someone like you doesn’t have anyone important in your life. So you wouldn’t know—those who’ve had such experiences often become particularly stubborn and resistant to certain things. Psychologists say,” Caesar smiled, pointing at his heart, “it’s a kind of mental disorder.”
“I refuse,” Caesar stood up, bowed, “If there’s nothing else, I’ll take my leave.”
Caesar leaned against a marble pillar wrapped in ivy, leisurely sipping a chilled gin while watching the luxury cars leave the hotel one by one, the last being the mountain bike. Seeing the rider wriggle their hips as they pedaled away, Caesar couldn’t help but laugh.