Chapter 172: Feelings of a Dragon

As Amelia stepped into her room, shutting the door behind her and settling into her quarters, the dragon cub she had left below vanished entirely from her mind—her thoughts consumed by something far grander.

Taking a seat upon her chair, she remained entirely oblivious to what was transpiring with the little one left behind. Nor did she realize that those few words she had uttered—and the truths she had concealed from him—had left an impression far deeper than she could have ever imagined.

Downstairs, Albert stood frozen in place, feeling his heart rate quicken once more.

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

Yet this sensation bore no resemblance to what he had felt moments ago while walking beside Amelia—when his heart beat with a sweet, tender warmth.

Instead, this was entirely different: a sharp, excruciating pain that surged through his chest as though a physical blade had been plunged into his heart, left embedded within him.

The pain was so tangible that he unconsciously clutched his chest, his breathing growing ragged as if his very body could no longer endure the conflicting emotions raging inside him.

For the first time in a long while, his draconic nature began surfacing beyond his ability to contain it.

Small horns sprouted from his head while the hue of his eyes gradually shifted, his pupils slitting into those of a predatory dragon—glowing with a fierce, terrifying luster.

Fangs extended beyond his teeth, scales creeping across portions of his face, and his tail burst forth violently from behind his small frame. Draconic wings unfurled from his back as his small hands transformed into razor-sharp talons that trembled slightly.

The transformation was physically and mentally agonizing, yet it paled in comparison to the emotional torment triggering it.

It felt as though flames were consuming his body from within. Yet Albert held no anger toward Amelia, nor did he harbor a trace of resentment. Quite the contrary—his fury was directed solely at himself.

He was furious because he had failed to protect her.

Furious that, despite all the power he possessed, he couldn’t even discern what was weighing on her mind.

He was weak.

Yes, he was a Celestial Dragon. His power far surpassed anything an ordinary child could ever dream of possessing; his sheer presence was enough to make countless beings tremble in terror. Yet in the depths of his soul, he viewed none of that as significant.

To him, raw power was never the true measure of strength—it was the ability to wield it to protect the person who meant everything to him.

And here he stood, powerless to even uncover the root of the sorrow Amelia hid behind her smile.

These thoughts swirled in his head because Amelia hadn’t shared her burdens with him—she hadn’t allowed him to be part of what troubled her. To Albert, this was no simple secret she wished to keep; in his eyes, it was absolute proof that he was not yet worthy to stand by her side and shield her when facing something she couldn’t handle alone.

In that moment, the young dragon felt utterly inadequate.

Possessing such power felt shameful rather than a source of pride.

What was the point of being a Celestial Dragon?

What was the value of possessing such terrifying might?

And what worth did all these abilities hold if he couldn’t use them to protect his sole friend—the girl who had never looked at him with fear or disgust as others had, who hadn’t recoiled upon discovering his true nature, but had accepted him as he was without demanding he hide his true form or pretend to be someone else?

Amelia was one of the precious few who made him feel that being a dragon was not something to conceal.

Precisely because of this, his current sense of powerlessness cut deeper than any physical wound.

There was a time when Albert firmly believed the power granted to him was not in vain—that the true purpose behind possessing it was singular:

To become Lady Amelia’s primary guardian.

He viewed it as his destiny, as though all that power forged within his body belonged not to him alone, but was a tool granted so he could stand against any threat that dared approach her.

But what if Amelia herself didn’t trust him enough to reveal what pained her?

What if she didn’t see him as someone she could rely on when protection was needed?

If so, what meaning did his strength carry?

None.

None whatsoever.

Just meaningless, trivial power—utter trash unworthy of pride.

Albert slowly lowered his head, his draconic eyes locked onto the spot where Amelia had vanished moments prior, as if his small heart still awaited her return to tell him everything was fine—or at least offer a single reason to believe he hadn’t failed in the one task he wished to accomplish.

Yet she did not return.

In that moment, while Albert remained motionless, drowned in thoughts and emotions he knew not how to navigate, he suddenly felt a small body approach and wrap around him from the side, enveloping him in a warm, deeply familiar embrace.

Albert knew this presence all too well.

He didn’t even need to look to confirm her identity.

"I’m back, Brother... How was your outing with your friends?"

Her gentle voice reached him from his side. Turning slightly, he saw the young girl roughly Amelia’s age—none other than his younger sister, Mio.

Mio had manifested in her draconic form without attempting to conceal her true nature. Small horns protruded from her head, her eyes carried that distinct draconic gleam, wings spanned from her back, and fine scales dotted her small body—giving her an appearance that, by any logical standard, should have been terrifying for a child her age.

Yet to Albert, there was nothing terrifying about Mio at all.

Quite the opposite—she was, in his eyes, one of the gentlest creatures he had ever known, perhaps the gentlest of all. He saw in her horns, draconic eyes, and wings nothing more than natural traits belonging to the little sister who had been by his side since they were even younger.

Albert looked at her for a moment, answering in a calm voice:

"It was very nice... How are things going with Instructor Cassian?"

Mio clung to her brother, her usual sweet smile unchanged, seemingly oblivious to the heavy gloom dominating his features.

Raising her head slightly, she looked up at him, uttering with clear pride:

"Today I took my very first lesson on how to control your anger as a dragon! He said I’m making amazing progress and that, honestly... I’m way better than you!"

The moment she finished her sentence, Mio stuck her tongue out at him in a blatantly childish gesture, deliberately teasing her brother and flaunting her minor achievement. Albert stared at her in silence for a few moments before letting out a long sigh, utterly helpless against his little sister’s outrageous confidence.

He spoke in a dry, sarcastic tone, looking down at her:

"Well, what can I do? Your brother is a total failure... I should definitely learn from someone as grand as you."

Hearing his words, Mio’s expression shifted slightly. Her childish smile transformed into an exaggeratedly serious look, as if she had suddenly abandoned the role of little sister to adopt that of a master instructor offering crucial counsel to a failing student.

She raised her head with supreme confidence, speaking in a tone she strove to make as solemn as possible:

"Alright, little guy, don’t worry... We’ve all been through phases like this."

Placing her hands before her frame while maintaining that severe expression entirely unfitting for her tiny size, she added with immense pride:

"Even a genius like me struggled in the beginning, so don’t lose hope!"

Albert remained staring at her as his little sister continued playing the grand master come to rescue her failing disciple...