The Black Dragon of the Cornel Family Still Lives Earnestly

A corner of the little town's general store was perpetually shrouded in dim shadows. That was where Linor hid.

She looked as delicate and well-behaved as an elf, but beneath that endearing exterior was a young black dragon.

From the moment she was born, there had been an unhealable hole in her throat. This congenital defect had also become an instinct buried deep in her bones and blood: a near-insatiable craving for magic.

Any flowers, plants, or trees touched by her fingertips would gradually lose their vitality, wither, and die.

She was a walking calamity, a heavy seal, and a secret the world was never meant to know.

According to her original fate, she should have slept forever beneath the cold earth, unnoticed by anyone, silently vanishing into the long years.

But seven-year-old Noelle gave this already-written story a different ending.

Deep within a desolate cemetery, the girl found a cold, lifeless dragon egg.

Through one quiet night after another, she gently nurtured the life inside the shell.

Day after day, she stayed by its side, soothing it in a soft voice. At last, the bewildered young black dragon could leave its long slumber behind and enter this vibrant, warm world.