Published at 25th of August 2026 9:07 am

Volume 8, Chapter 68: Small Constantine, Old Constantine

This chapter is updated by JustRead.pl

A flash of light swept past, and Constantine’s consciousness immediately fell into a brief haze.

When he opened his eyes again, before him was a familiar yet long-distant home and small courtyard.

Constantine remembered—this was where he and his elder brother lived when he was young.

Back then, his elder brother Wu served as a border guard of the Red Flame Dragon Clan.

So their home was built near the edge of the clan’s forest territory, making it convenient for Wu to patrol and keep watch.

As his awareness gradually returned, Aurora’s voice sounded beside his ear:

“Uncle Constantine, can you hear me?”

Constantine nodded, but realizing those outside might not see the gesture, he added aloud:

“I can hear you.”

“Okay. I forgot to mention earlier—normally, when Memory Reversion is performed, one of the participants will enter the memory environment in a newly generated body so that events can progress naturally.”

Aurora continued:

“But since you’re entering your own memory world, no new body will be generated. Your current state is similar to a soul. You can move freely in this memory world. You won’t feel hunger or thirst, and you won’t feel tired. Most importantly, no one inside the memory world can see you—and of course, you can’t touch them either. This will make it easier for you to search for the memory related to Pyx.”

The explanation was simple and clear. Constantine responded in a low voice:

“Alright. I understand.”

“Oh—also, outside, we can see everything you see and hear everything you hear. So don’t worry that you won’t be able to contact us.”

“Good.”

“That’s all for now. Uncle Constantine, start searching along the trail of your thoughts.”

Constantine nodded and steadied himself, placing his attention back on his surroundings.

He stepped toward the small courtyard.

Everything before him felt familiar, tangible, real.

That kid really does have some ability, to create a magic like this, Constantine thought privately.

Of course, that was something he would never say out loud. Otherwise Leon would become unbearably smug.

He continued forward.

Returning to this place gradually stirred his childhood memories.

He looked toward a corner of the courtyard—there, beside a well, a red-haired boy was lifting water.

The little one wore a sleeveless shirt and shorts, slippers on his feet, a crimson dragon tail swaying behind him.

A short carrying pole lay across his small shoulders, two heavy wooden buckets hanging from either end.

“One—two—three—go!”

The small Constantine lifted both full buckets with ease and walked toward the house.

And the older Constantine merely watched this quietly, his gaze following his younger self.

Dragon children experience training from a young age. Childhood passes here.

No matter how simple or happy—it is gone.

To relive the past, to see once more something precious—one must rely on dreams within memory, such as now. In the present world, there is no other way to see it again.

Constantine’s gaze flickered as he followed the younger version of himself into the house.

No sooner had he stepped inside than a clattering sound came from the kitchen.

He leaned in to look—small Constantine, standing beside a large water jar, had slipped while trying to pour the water from the buckets. Half the water spilled, soaking his clothing as he fell onto the ground.

“...Damn bucket.”

Ten minutes later, small Constantine was crouched in the courtyard beside a burning fire.

He had taken off his shirt and was drying it near the flames.

After a moment of thought, he suddenly stood and ran into the house.

When he returned, he was holding two fish.

He skewered them with a stick and set them by the fire to roast along with the shirt.

The sun set. Evening came.

A familiar voice called from outside the courtyard:

“A-Yan, I’m back!”

Both young and old Constantine looked toward the gate.

A red-haired young man entered—his eyebrows and features resembled Constantine greatly.

Or rather—he was Constantine, in his youth.

Small Constantine jumped up excitedly:

“Brother, you’re not on duty today?”

Wu also jogged forward and rubbed his younger brother’s head.

“A new one came in to take my shift today, so I’m off.”

“That’s great!”

The brothers shared a smile—but Wu soon noticed something.

“A-Yan... where’s your shirt? Why are you bare-chested?”

Small Constantine quickly explained what had happened and pointed at the fire.

“It’s drying right now. And I roasted fish too—we can eat together later.”

Wu blinked, then laughed helplessly:

“Alright.”

But when he looked at the firewood, he frowned.

“A-Yan, what wood did you use?”

Small Constantine was already waiting to brag. At the question, his chest puffed instantly:

“I broke apart that stupid bucket that spilled water on me. And because normal firewood might not catch well, I used dragonflame to light it. Pretty smart, right, brother?”

“......”

He’d always been clever—even the bucket wasn’t spared.

Wu’s expression tightened in a bittersweet smile.

“Impressive... but...”

“But what, brother?”

“We only had two buckets for water. If you break one, we only have one left.”

Small Constantine thumped a fist confidently against his chest:

“No problem, brother. Really, don’t worry.”

So the kid did think ahead—leaving one bucket intact.

Wu couldn’t help feeling a quiet relief—

Until the boy added:

“At first I was worried the fire wouldn’t be strong enough, so I broke both buckets. So actually... we don’t have any buckets now.”

Wu: “?”

A demon child. Truly a demon child.

But even then, Wu just smiled helplessly. He did not scold him.

The two sat by the fire, and the fish soon finished roasting. They began to eat.

Halfway through, Wu spoke gently:

“A-Yan, you said you slipped while pouring water into the jar?”

“Mm!”

“That might be because you’re not tall enough yet. The weight of the bucket is still too much for you.”

Wu then continued:

“You must remember—when you do things, always measure your own strength. Don’t attempt things beyond your limits—”

“Ahhh brother, you’re starting again!”

Small Constantine finished his fish in one bite, stood up impatiently:

“I don’t want to hear lectures. Just teach me more dragonflame moves!”

“And let you burn more buckets?”

Wu smiled and handed the rest of his fish to the boy.

“Fine. Eat more. I’ll teach you a few more moves tonight.”

“Deal!”

Their conversation and laughter—Constantine watched it all.

Back then, he didn’t want to listen to his brother’s words. He only wanted to learn magic.

And now—now, as Dragon King, master of countless spells. He would give anything to hear his brother’s voice again.

Truly... the world changes, but the heart remembers.

The brothers soon went into the courtyard to practice magic.

Constantine watched from afar. He cherished the moment—but he knew:

There was no Cloti Pyx in this memory segment.

Aurora said he could shift the time within memory.

“Then... let’s look at another period.”

Constantine focused his mind and adjusted the timeline.

The scene blurred.

When it cleared, it was a stormy night.

The same childhood home.

But this time—Wu burst through the door in the pouring rain, hurried and tense.

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