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Chapter 413: The Brand of the Dragon: An Unexpected Encounter

() This is a dragon. Looking at the strange little thing in front of him, Eragon told himself in his heart.

The little dragon that just hatched from the egg is no longer than Eragon's forearm, but its demeanor is noble and majestic. Its scales are dark blue, as big as the stone. Its wings are several times as long as its body and thin.

Long strips of bone stretch out from the front edge of the wings, stretching them out like ribs, forming lines that resemble giant claws. The dragon's small head is almost triangular, with two small curved fangs extending downward from the upper jaw.

It looks very sharp. Its claws are also white, as if carved from ivory, with slight spikes on the inner edge. A line of tiny saw teeth is arranged on the backbone of this little thing, from the head to the tip of the tail, but the neck and shoulders

There is a shallow depression at the joint, making the gap between the two saw teeth larger here than elsewhere.[]

(If this dragon attacks, it will definitely be a formidable enemy.)

Eragon, who did not dare to express his anger, moved his steps gently and kept quiet, while the young dragon turned his head, opened and closed his mouth, and stared at him with a pair of majestic ice-blue eyes.

However, the young dragon soon lost interest in Eragon. It struggled to explore the situation in the room, knocking on the furniture and walls from time to time, and making squeaks. After flapping its wings a few times, it jumped

He got into bed, huddled on Eragon's pillow, and cried endlessly. Its mouth opened pitifully, like a helpless baby bird, revealing two rows of fangs.

(It's not scary.) Looking at the cute little thing in front of him, a smile appeared on Eragon's lips. Then he tentatively stretched out his right hand and touched its side.

Suddenly there was a blue flash, and Eragon felt a bone-chilling power pass through his palm, rushing straight into his arm, rushing through his blood vessels like hot magma, and he suddenly screamed.

He fell backward on the bed, with the sound of metal and metal ringing in his ears, and the sound of roaring. Every part of his body was burned by pain, and he could not move with all his strength.

The pain came and went as quickly as it came. Although it felt like several hours had passed, in fact it only took a moment before Eragon sat up with his body intact.

There was no physical discomfort, but when he touched Xiaolong's right hand, he lost all feeling for a moment, and his fingers were numb. He was horrified to see a shimmering light on the palm of his hand, and a white oval pattern with blurred edges appeared. There.

My skin felt itchy and hot, as if I had been bitten by a spider.

(What happened? It gave me a brand?!!)

Eragon blinked, eager to figure out what happened. He stared at the motionless dragon in confusion.

Facing the little guy's round and shining eyes, Eragon suddenly felt something brushing through his mind, as clear as a finger tracing across his skin. When this feeling arose again, that thing had already

Condensed into a consciousness, it grew like a vine, and through it Eragon experienced a growing sense of curiosity.

It was as if a wall in his mind had collapsed. Now his will was restricted and he could fly as he pleased. If he lost his restrictions, his soul might leave his body and never return to his original position, turning into a transparent jng in the air.

Ling. The boy who thought of this was frightened, and he quickly calmed down. After subconsciously closing his eyes, the strange feeling disappeared.

(What is this? I seem to feel her soul?)

With his eyes closed, Eragon recalled the mysterious feeling, and his heart beat like crazy.

And at this moment, he suddenly felt a cold touch coming from his arm. As soon as he opened his eyes, he saw the young dragon lifting a leg covered with scales and touching him. He just remembered the description before.

The pain in his heart made Eragon jump away with lingering fear.

(Wait, that doesn’t seem to have happened)

Eragon stroked the baby dragon's head with his right hand with some confusion. This time, there was no shocking force, only a slight shock sent to his arm. The baby dragon arched its body like a cat and used its nose.

Rubbing the palm of his hand. One of his fingers gently slid across the membrane on its wings. It felt like old parchment, pliable and warm, but still slightly moist. The blood veins on it were crisscrossed, slender and numerous.

.

Then again, that vine-like consciousness stretched into his mind. This time, what he experienced was not curiosity, but an irresistible and extreme hunger. The seemingly weak and helpless young dragon let out a melodious whine.

, begging for food.

(Is it hungry? It seems I have to find something to eat for it)

Eragon rubbed its head soothingly to calm it down. Then he stood up and walked towards the door. There seemed to be some dried meat left in the kitchen. I wonder if the little guy's stomach could bear it?

Eragon opened the door after thinking about it, and the expression on his face suddenly froze in the next moment.

"B-Bloom? Why are you here?"

Bloom, the old storyteller in the village, was standing in front of the door with a crutch carved into a weird shape. Looking at the raised hand, it seemed that he was about to come in.

The old man wore a brown hooded cloak, like a priest, with a pipe hanging from his old leather belt. Above his snow-white beard, a huge aquiline nose stood prominently in the center of his face. At this moment, his deep-set eyes were looking from behind.

He stared at Eragon under his thick eyebrows.

"Why are you here? Come and see if you, the reckless guy, died in the Spain Mountains."

Bloom's sharp eyes like an eagle scanned the boy's whole body, and his eyes fell on Eragon's somewhat covered right hand.

"Your right hand - isn't it really hurt?"

His eyebrows were gathered together, forming a thick white line, and there were deep wrinkles on his forehead.

"No, no, I'm fine!"

Eragon explained in a panic, and hid the branded right hand behind his back. As of now, he didn't want anyone to know the dragon's secret.

But he miscalculated the old man's persistence and strength. Bloom's strong fingers dragged out his right hand hidden behind his back, and then grabbed his wrist. With just a little force, Eragon's palm was

He immediately spread it towards the sky, revealing the silver mark.

"What is this? Don't tell me you were burned."

Bloom's eyes sparkled, but he allowed Eragon to retract his hand.

"No, that's right, it's just hot. I knocked over the teapot this morning."

It seemed that Bloom's words reminded Eragon very well, and he was so flustered that he actually used this excuse to make it up.

"Is that really true?"

Eragon swallowed his saliva and nodded silently. His eyes wandered around to see if there was anything unusual.

Bloom squinted at him and smiled without saying a word, while Eragon, who was staring at him, felt that his back seemed to be wet in this winter.

Shouldn't this old man be a storyteller? Why does he seem to know a lot? Will the little dragon scream if he is not fed? What should I do then?

And just when Eragon was feeling anxious, a pleasant voice came from behind Bloom.

"Is it necessary to scare him like this? Bloom, look at how nervous he looks."

Eragon's heart moved and he looked in the direction where the sound came from.

Gulu, the sound of swallowing saliva seemed a bit loud in the silent space. Eragon reacted and was so embarrassed that he couldn't raise his head, but his heart exploded at the same time.

jng ling, jng ling!

The pointed ears clearly show her identity, and the temperament without any pyrotechnics makes the already stunning appearance go to a higher level. It can't help but make people's souls sink deeply into it, unable to extricate themselves, even to the point of stopping their souls.

reverse.

Although Eragon was only fifteen years old, he was already a little man. When he saw such a beautiful creature for the first time, he immediately felt a little angry.

Feeling the inexplicable impulse coming from deep within her body, the innocent little boy quickly moved his gaze from the stunning elf to the white horse she was holding in her hand. This horse and its owner

She looks as beautiful as ever, and her snow-white fur is as pure as the clouds in the sky.

Eragon's reserved look fell into Felicia's eyes. The beautiful elf turned his head and looked at Bloom blocking the door. The old man looked back when he heard the sound, but there was no

Any movement, Felicia couldn't help but sigh and shook her head.

"Heartbeat is racing, breathing is rapid, facial temperature is rising, and your fingers are moving involuntarily. Little guy, no one told you that the way you lie is easy to spot? And the mark on your hand is Gweinasha, the Shining.

The palm of your hand is enough for us to know a lot of things.”

Pointing to the shining mark on his palm, Felicia's tone was obviously playful.

"You touched a newly hatched dragon. Congratulations, Eragon. You are now a dragon knight."


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