Solflare: The Painter's Secret-Chapter 117: Son of the Blue-Flamed Dragon

Tiger raised his hand flicked it in a lazy mocking acknowledgement.

His held Leon’s gaze for a while before turning as the gazes of Leon’s squad began to tilt toward his direction.

His entire body turned and vanished, joining the shadowy part of the red building.

"is that..." Liu Yan asked, her lips parting slightly as she tapped on Bao Xiong’s shoulder. "Did you see him? The Son of the Blue-Flamed Dragon?"

Bao Xiong’s expression shifted from weary to alert the moment he turned and glanced at Liu Yan’s shock-filled face. "Didn’t you see him yesterday during the morning drills?"

On their way back to the dormitory, no one talked, only their heels of their boots took over.

Inside the madhouse, the post-training fatigues had vanished and replaced by a tensed feeling.

Liu Yan walked toward Leon and sat beside him. the mattress dipped low the moment she added her palms on the mattress.

She turned, studying Leon’s face. "Do you know him?" she asked in a low voice. She held Leon’s gaze as if he was a caught thief. "The son of the Dragon."

Leon remained still, his eyes locked on the scuffed floor between his boots. "Why?"

"The way he was looking at you wasn’t a casual glance." She paused, squeezed her eyes. "It showed either you’ve wronged him, or taken something precious from him. Maybe you stole his girlfriend, or something like that."

A short, harsh laughter echoed from the central table where Bao Xiong, Wu Ze, and An Lang were siting.

Leon lifted his head and looked at her. "I haven’t taken anything from him." He paused, "I know him from Alchemania, in Thule."

Liu Yan’s face went perfectly still for a second. Then her eyes widened after a cold understanding lanced down her spine.

She whipped her head toward Bao Xiong. "Did you hear him, Bao Xiong?!"

Liu Yan’s face froze for a heartbeat. Then her eyes widened, a cold understanding lancing down her spine.

An Lang let out a sharp, frustrated sigh. His chair scraped back, legs scraping against the floor. He rose, lanky frame tense, and stepped closer. "That... that can’t be possible."

"They said only a handful survived the golden beam that swept the main field," he said, voice low. "The one that vaporized half the elite cohort."

Liu Yan turned to Leon, eyes narrowing. "Tell me you’re not the one they called Storm."

Leon’s fingers brushed the badge on his chest. Grey fabric, a small embroidered name. He scratched at the collar, trying to hide it.

Wu Ze rose from her seat, deliberate, silent. Each step toward him made the air sharper. "What are you hiding?" Her voice cut through the room. "Take your hand off your chest."

"Calm down, Wu Ze," Liu Yan said, voice uneven. She was still processing.

"No," Wu Ze said, unwavering. "I need to know he’s not the one the news streams talked about for weeks. The human cataclysm. The walking time bomb."

Leon’s mind recoiled. What did they say about me? He hadn’t seen the news. He’d been in the dark, in recovery, underground.

A thick silence pressed down on him, broken only by the faint hum of the climate system. He swallowed. "I’m Storm," he said, voice rough but steady. "Leon Storm."

The reaction was immediate.

Bao Xiong stepped back, chest hitching, breath caught halfway.

’That makes sense. His eyes rolled slightly before settling on Leon’s calm, resigned face. The three Lieutenants... they only personally handle assets classified as human explosives.’ Words tried to form in his throat. Nothing came.

Liu Yan’s shock shifted, twisting into something fierce. She scanned him—his posture, his hands, the unassuming way he held himself.

’I see it now. That’s why he dismantled those drones yesterday without effort. Not just skill... something else.’

A laugh bubbled, raw and wild, but she swallowed it. Then a triumphant grin spread across her face. She jumped slightly on the balls of her feet. "Then we won’t fail this cycle!"

The words hung. Bao Xiong’s eyes widened. Wu Ze’s frown deepened. An Lang’s glare sharpened. Unity fractured. Each of them calculating. Dread seeping in. 𝒻𝑟𝘦𝘦𝘸ℯ𝒷𝑛𝘰𝓋ℯ𝘭.𝘤𝘰𝘮

Night came like a fever dream.

Bao Xiong’s sleep was jagged, fragmented. He saw news anchors, grim faces, the title "Sun God" whispered by a shadowy uncle from intelligence. A figure wreathed in blinding light. Awe. Fear.

Liu Yan’s dreams were strange, optimistic. Power. Protection. A new kind of partnership with the quiet boy from the lower bunk.

An Lang plunged into Chaos City. Faceless horrors descended from corroded skyscrapers. His team fired, useless. Darkness flooded the streets.

Wu Ze’s sleep was a warning. Soldiers lined the parade ground. A dragon’s blue fire dissolved them into ash. She jerked awake, heart hammering. The dorm was dark. Others slept.

Her gaze fell on Leon. He stood at the slightly open window, a silhouette against bruised pre-dawn sky. Arms at his sides.

Along his forearms, tiny sparks of gold flickered, dancing like fireflies before fading. He seemed unaware, eyes fixed on the distant tip of the main CODX building.

’Why were they so shocked?’ The thought looped in his mind.

He closed his eyes, but even the darkness behind his lids held the twin Sentinels from his dreamscape. The faceless being bowed. Silent yet deafening: "Your journey begins, Creator."

He opened his eyes. The sparks vanished.

Dawn brought formation. Hundreds of recruits in grey uniforms stood in perfect rows. Leon moved with his squad, the memory of last night buried under routine.

Then he saw him.

Tiger. Two rows over. Advanced cohort, subtle silver piping on uniform. His smile didn’t reach icy blue eyes.

"It’s been a while," Tiger said in a low voice.

Leon met the gaze his focused face and offered a faint, acknowledging smile. He walked past, joining Liu Yan and the others. Message sent: I see you.

The hologram flickered. "Squad 7-Gamma. Deployment Zone: Chaos City Sector 5. Urban Pacification Drill. Time to insertion: ten minutes."

Liu Yan’s face paled. Bao Xiong exhaled, forcing resolve. "Okay. Together we train." He stretched out his arm, palm down.

Liu Yan added hers, careful. Wu Ze followed after a beat, jaw tight. An Lang slammed his hand on last, expression grim.

Leon hesitated, then placed his palm on top. The memory of gold sparks lingered in Leon’s veins as the warm texture of An Lang’s skin lanced through his skin.

Together, they shouted: "TOGETHER WE DIE!"