From the drifting dust, a crimson claw stepped forward.
Seeing who emerged, Kaos silently relaxed his stance.
That… was unexpected.
Agatha had won.
One against four.
And she had won.
Though she hardly looked unscathed.
Many of her scales were shattered from the fight. Her right foreclaw hung twisted, three of the five hooked talons snapped clean off. A row of bite marks marred one of her thick hind legs.
Kaos's gaze traveled slowly over her injuries.
She's badly hurt.
Probably doesn't have much fight left in her.
So…
Should I take this chance?
The tempting thought flashed through his mind—
—and was immediately dismissed.
Fair is fair.
Yes, she stole part of his eggshell.
But she'd also taken care of four troublemakers.
Otherwise, how much of that shell would've made it into his stomach?
Realistically?
The four would've split it clean.
Forget it.
I'll rob her later.
For now—
Eat first.
He turned away and resumed chewing.
Crunch.
Crisp. Fragrant. Delicious.
Like dragon-flavored potato chips.
Though…
His throat was growing dry.
Too much shell, and it scraped going down.
He suddenly wanted water.
But judging from how dry this cave was, there was none to be found.
If he wanted water…
He'd have to leave the cave.
…
Agatha glanced back at the green hatchling who had turned his back on her and resumed eating.
He'd clearly harbored hostility moments ago.
But then he'd abandoned it.
Strange.
She didn't dwell on it.
Instead, she walked to an open space and lay down.
Her wounds were minor.
Between her own shell and the portions she'd seized from the four others, she was full.
Full enough for her first sleep.
According to dragon inheritance, a hatchling's first slumber—if entered on a full stomach—greatly increased the chance of awakening useful abilities.
Whether that was true?
She didn't know.
Her heavy eyelids slowly closed.
…
Crunch.
Kaos swallowed the last fragment of shell, forcing it down despite the dryness.
He assessed his stomach.
About sixty percent full.
Should I sleep now?
The thought had barely formed when crooked draconic text appeared before his eyes.
Ancient Dragon Script.
Familiar—yet new.
[A hatchling's first sleep should be entered on a full stomach. This may grant more useful abilities—or multiple abilities.
—A certain green dragon who prefers not to reveal their true name.]
The message dissolved after he finished reading.
He stared.
That signature ruined everything.
If it had been any other color, he might've believed it.
But a green dragon?
As a green hatchling, he knew exactly what greens were like.
Born schemers.
Masters of deception.
Delighting in manipulating desire-blinded intelligent beings.
Because of that, any inheritance written by a green dragon had to be labeled as such.
Whether you believed it was your problem.
Psychologically?
Untrustworthy.
But what if…
What if it was true?
What if, just this once, it was genuine advice?
Damn it.
Kaos stood upright and scratched his round head in frustration.
While wrestling with indecision, his gaze drifted to where the dust had fully settled.
There they were.
Four hatchlings planted headfirst into the dirt, tails sticking up.
Dust coated them completely, turning all four into the same sandy-yellow color.
Oh.
Right.
Almost forgot about them.
Chromatic dragons fought—but rarely killed their own kind at this stage.
Agatha hadn't either.
They were merely unconscious.
With dragon resilience, they'd wake in minutes.
Which meant—
He needed to act.
He walked over.
Four raised dragon butts greeted him.
Without hesitation, he lifted a hind leg—
Kick.
That's for trying to steal my shell.
The kicked hatchling toppled sideways, head pulling free from the soil.
Dust scattered, revealing blue scales underneath.
He brushed off the dirt.
Blue.
He glanced at the other three still planted upright.
Briefly considered kicking each one.
Then reconsidered.
He'd inhaled enough dust already.
Instead, he grabbed them by their long tails.
One by one, he yanked them out and dragged them together.
Hatchling tails were long.
Flexible.
Which gave him… ideas.
He gathered all four tails together.
Wrapped.
Looped.
Twisted.
Knotted.
Tangled.
Rotate—
A minute later.
Four hatchlings lay sprawled in four different directions.
But their tails?
Firmly knotted together.
Kaos admired his handiwork.
Even those legendary cable-management experts from his previous life would surrender at this sight.
He planted his claws on his hips proudly.
Another day, another improvement in rope artistry.
This wasn't just for fun.
More hatchlings would be hatching soon.
When these four woke up, they'd surely try to "compete" over caring for the new arrivals.
That wouldn't do.
Looking after dragon siblings—
Should be handled by a mature dragon like him.
Ignoring the unconscious quartet, he began strolling past the remaining eggs, scanning for a target.
Soon—
One egg caught his eye.
Slightly larger than the others.
Red.
Among chromatic hatchlings, red dragons were the undisputed top dogs.
Even so—
He chose it.
He believed in first impressions.
As for whether he'd be able to beat it later?
Irrelevant.
He'd already experienced hatching once.
That post-hatch weakness?
The most vulnerable moment in a dragon's life.
He lay down before the slightly larger red egg and tilted his head up at it.
"You're a red dragon. The boss of the chromatics."
"If not for pride—then at least for dignity."
"Come on… hatch before the others."