Dragon Genesis: I Can Create Dragons - Chapter 546: Flying Man God.
Chapter 546: Flying Man God.
A/N: Again, Stonefangs are talking in their own language. It’s just written in English to save word count.
…
In the Stonefang Quarter, something else happened after the water incident.
The Velmourn elders came.
And unlike normal Velmourns, who would usually never be welcomed, the welcome the Velmourn elders received was different.
After all, the elders didn’t come empty-handed; they came with ingredients.
Frostflower Mushrooms.
Icemoss loaves.
Gel rations.
Fungal biscuits.
The Divine Ration that had kept the Velmourns alive and gave them hope for a better tomorrow.
The same Divine Rations that were… one of the strongest reasons the Stonefang had decided to come here in the first place.
Very quickly, the Stonefang elders, the same ones who had worked together with the Velmourn elders yesterday, welcomed them together with Zakaar.
Today, Kael wasn’t here with the elders. While he was still keeping an eye on everything through his ants, too many things were going to happen today; he could not be present at every single place all the time.
The people needed to learn how to interact with each other without his presence and honestly…
After yesterday’s interaction, the elderlies were a few of the people he actually trusted to interact well.
After all, even if the two sides did not trust each other, they trusted food.
And hunger was a language both sides spoke perfectly.
The Stonefang elders took the Velmourn elders to the Communal Cook Space, and in there, the Velmourn elders began their teaching again.
How much force to use.
How long to heat.
How to stir so it wouldn’t burn.
“Not too much fire,”
A Velmourn elder said, pressing his palm down like he was calming a beast.
“Slow heat. Save fuel.”
Zakaar translated.
A Stonefang elder frowned and said something sharp.
Zakaar translated back.
“He says… you cook like old turtle.”
The Velmourn elder blinked.
Then, to everyone’s surprise, he laughed.
“Old turtle lives long,”
He replied.
Zakaar translated.
The Stonefang elder stared at him for a moment.
Then he made a rough sound that might have been… a laugh too.
The cooking continued.
When the first batch was done, steam rose and once again, that delicious scent spread, instantly attracting the people.
Stonefang children gathered at the edges, eyes wide.
Stonefang mothers stood closer, watching the pots like they were miracles.
And as the elders from the two sides continued to cook together, the talk slowly shifted. After all, they were all elderlies, people whose bodies had begun to give up, people who… had become lonely.
People who… wanted to talk, even if it meant talking to the enemy.
And the other side was the same; as the Velmourn elders spoke, the Stonefang elders listened carefully and gave their input or asked questions, interested in the conversation. More than once, these elders glared at Zakaar, telling him to translate faster.
It was… quite a warm scene.
The talks continued—
First it was about the Divine Rations.
Then to the rules.
Then to the… truth behind them.
A Velmourn elder spoke with quiet pride, like someone talking about a sacred thing.
“These rations… they are not normal food,”
He said.
Zakaar translated.
Stonefang elders leaned in.
“Lord Kael brought them to us…”
And with that, the Velmourn elders continued the story. They talked about how before Kael’s appearance, even the Velmourns died of hunger and starvation, how their rations were cut for the survival of the young, how Kael stood up for them, how Kael, using his power, produced the Divine Rations.
They also talked about what happened when Vashti once broke the ’rule’ and warned the Stonefang elders not to break the rule at any cost. The Stonefang elders listened and nodded carefully.
They asked questions as if they couldn’t believe some parts, and Velmourns answered them with pride.
It was clear how much the Velmourn elders loved and trusted Kael, and the Stonefang elders…
Surprisingly, they shared the same feeling—no, their feeling was… even stronger.
One Stonefang elder’s eyes lit up.
“Yes.
Flying Man God.”
He said firmly, like it was obvious.
The Velmourn elders blinked.
“…What?”
One of them asked, stunned.
And as Zakaar translated his reaction, the Stonefang elder repeated his words, this time even more strongly.
“Flying Man God.”
Another Stonefang elder nodded hard.
“Yes. Flying Man. Dragon God.”
They said it like they were stating the weather.
Like it was a fact.
After all, for the Velmourns, Kael had only fought for them, protected them and given them food, but for the Stonefangs…
Kael had… let them go.
Yes, the Stonefang warriors hadn’t forgotten the day they attacked the Velmourns and angered Kael, the day Kael transformed into his… divine form and created a huge Wall of Flames in front of them.
The day Kael could have killed them all but didn’t.
The warriors spread the words the instant they returned.
How there was… a God now standing together with the Velmourn, and this sentiment only grew stronger after hearing the story of the Divine Ration.
“Flying Man God.”
The Stonefang elders repeated, nodding at each other.
And the Velmourn elders stared, taken aback.
Then, slowly… one elder’s expression changed.
After all, this wasn’t the first time he had heard these words. He had heard the same thing before.
Not from Stonefangs.
But from Velmourns.
From a… certain group.
He exchanged a look with the other elder.
“…You speak like the Dawn of the Dragon,”
The Velmourn elder muttered.
Zakaar translated.
Stonefang elders frowned instantly.
“Dawn of Dragon?”
One asked.
“What that?”
The Velmourn elder hesitated, then explained.
“It is a group, a… cult,”
He said slowly.
“People who worship Kael as their God.
They pray to him.
They follow his rules.
They say he descended from the sky to… save us, to save our world.”
Zakaar translated and the moment they heard those words, the Stonefang elders went silent.
Then one of them couldn’t hold his curiosity.
“They have… more rules?”
The Velmourn elder nodded.
“Yes. They have rules about food. About waste. About discipline. About unity. They are far stricter than normal.
They are very devoted to their God.
They proudly claim to be willing to lose their life if it helps their God.”
As Zakaar translated those words with a somewhat surprised look on his face, the Stonefang elder’s gaze shifted to the pot.
To the rations.
To the… delicious scent it was releasing.
Then he turned back to the Velmourn elder and said something in his rough tongue—something that surprised Zakaar even more. But as the elder nudged him, he translated.
“And they… welcome anyone?”
The Velmourn elder hesitated.
Then he nodded.
“They would,”
He admitted.
“Especially now.”
Zakaar translated, and the Stonefang elders looked at one another.
The same look passed between them, the look of people who had been starving for more than food.
People who were starving for… certainty.
For something to believe in.
For a place to stand that wasn’t just filled with… hatred.
And for the first time since entering the Wall…
Some Stonefangs actually considered it.
The Dawn of the Dragon.
A group where the name Velmourn and Stonefang did not matter; the only thing that mattered was their faith in the man who had given them all.
A group where they could stand together under the same God.
Under the same… rules.
They didn’t say it out loud yet.
But their eyes did.
And the Velmourn elders saw it.
The same look they saw in those people.
But for now, he stayed silent and shifted the topic.
Just like that, the first pot finished, and the steam, together with that same absurdly delicious scent, spread into the cold quarter.
For a moment, the Stonefangs only stared.
Then the scent reached the lanes outside the cook space, and the quarter moved. Stonefang warriors called out in their rough tongue. Mothers pulled their children closer. Elders barked short orders. And in a strange way, it all became… organized.
A line formed.
People stepped forward with a bowl, a horn cup, or even a cracked metal plate. Their eyes fixed on the pots like those pots were the only safe thing left in the world.
The Velmourn elders served first.
They scooped carefully and placed the rations into hands as if placing something sacred. Zakaar stood beside them, translating short rules over and over.
“No waste.”
“Eat all.”
“Don’t store in Sanctuary.”
Stonefangs nodded.
Some grunted.
Some didn’t speak at all, but their hands shook slightly when they took the warm food.
As the line moved, the talk returned, this time much softer than before.
The Velmourn elder who had mentioned it before spoke again, because the Stonefang elders wouldn’t stop bothering him.
“The Dawn of the Dragon… they gather near the Faith Tree.”
Zakaar translated.
A Stonefang elder listened, then glanced at the line—at his people eating without fighting, without fear of starving tonight.
More and more Stonefangs began to linger near the cook space instead of leaving right right away. They pretended to adjust their bowls or check their children, but their ears stayed turned toward the elders.
One warrior asked something low.
Zakaar hesitated, then translated it anyway.
“Where… is the Faith Tree?”
“At the City Centre. It does not belong to any quarters so there are no entry restrictions.”
The elder answered.
And that was enough.
The Stonefangs nodded and the food distribution continued.
Soon, the last batch was served. The pot was scraped clean. The Stonefangs stepped away from the line and emptied their bowls with shines in their eyes.
Then the quarter shifted again.
Work.
That was the new rule for today.
Stonefang groups were called—warriors were called to the Wall, others were called to Forge, Goatholds, Farm Terrace, or Weavers’ Hearth.
But as the Stonefangs moved out, full bellies warming their chests, many of them looked back once—toward the cook space, toward the elders, toward the strange new words they had heard.
Dawn of the Dragon.
And for the first time since entering the Wall, a few Stonefangs walked toward work not only with suspicion…
But with curiosity.
Source: Webnovel.com, updated by novlove.com
