Easy to Enter (3)

When something happens to their child, any normal parent worries sick.

It is an instinct fundamental to all living beings, true for beasts no less than humans. But what if that incident was caused by someone else? What if it tore their child away from their side?

The wrath of a parent who has lost their young is beyond human reckoning. And right now, seeing her lost child stranded in some bizarre corner of the world, cuddled up with weird creatures... what on earth would a parent think?

“Grrrr...”

“...”

I didn't know what she was thinking, but I knew with absolute certainty that I was utterly screwed.

I stared at the colossal ruby eye occupying more than half the cave's opening, completely struck dumb. Thinking my eyes were playing tricks on me, I rubbed them over and over, but the sight remained unchanged. Those slit pupils looked poised to shred me to pieces at any second, radiating a terrifying malice capable of making anyone soil themselves on the spot.

M-my body won't move...

They say most animals freeze rigid when confronted by unimaginable dread. Humans can occasionally overcome it through sheer reason, but that is a privilege reserved for a rare, iron-willed few. Anyone forced to look directly into an eye that dwarfed the mouth of this cave would drown in primal terror. It was pure cosmic horror — an absolute, irresistible fright against which resistance was impossible.

Rustle... rustle...

After pinning me under its unblinking stare for what felt like an eternity, the ruby iris began scanning every corner of the cave. Each subtle flick of that pupil made my heart leap into my throat.

Eventually, the dragon's gaze locked onto a single spot. I realized where it was looking right away.

B-Bbarmbo? When did he get up?

I had no idea when he had woken, but Bbarmbo was standing tall and proud right before the dragon. The dragon narrowed its eyelid slightly, as if wondering what this strange fur-ball was supposed to be.

Scritch, scratch...

Bbarmbo casually scratched his back, completely unbothered. Did that thing not scare him in the slightest?

After an agonizing staring contest with Bbarmbo, the dragon shifted its gaze elsewhere. Then, its vision snapped directly onto the hatchling. The vertical pupil contracted to a razor-thin needle.

I-it won't hurt us, right? We healed the kid and took great care of it!

The hatchling was still fast asleep atop Wonmo's back, snoring soundly, totally oblivious to its mother's arrival. Once the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠mother verified her baby was unharmed, however, the slit in that crimson eye softened ever so slightly.

“Gasp!”

In that same breath, the invisible gravity crushing my chest lifted. The moment I was freed from that suffocating pressure, I exhaled a ragged gasp. It was an overwhelming aura that made the saber-toothed tiger feel like an alley cat. For a moment there, I had legitimately forgotten how to draw breath.

“Krrk.”

The dragon bobbed its snout once toward the back of the cave. The message was obvious: wake up that little brat sleeping so blissfully.

I caught the drift instantly and scrambled to comply.

“Hey! Hey! Get up! Your mom's here!”

“Peeee... ?!”

“Kyuuu... ?”

“... ?”

While I frantically shook the hatchling awake, Wonmo and Ludwig stirred from their slumber. Still blinking through the haze of sleep, both of them sensed the eerie tension in the air and turned toward the mouth of the cave.

“Kyuaaaahk!”

Every strand of fur on Wonmo's body stood on end as he screeched in sheer panic.

“...”

Ludwig, much like I had, simply turned to stone.

Those were normal, healthy reactions. So what about the hatchling?

“Peep? Peeeeeep!”

Instantly recognizing its mother from the giant eye alone, it sprinted forward with pure joy, stubby wings flapping excitedly as it bounded toward the entrance.

Whoosh.

As the hatchling scampered outside, the massive eye vanished from the cave opening. The moment that ruby orb disappeared, fresh air rushed back into my lungs, bringing sweet relief.

“Kyuuu... kyuuu...”

Even with the eye gone, Wonmo remained glued to my shin, quivering like a leaf. Fat tears welled in his big eyes; the poor cub was scared out of his wits. I felt like bursting into tears myself, so imagine how terrifying it must have been for a baby like Wonmo. I scooped him into my arms and gently patted his back to calm him down, and he clung to my chest with his tiny forepaws as if I were his only anchor in this world.

“...”

“...Let's head outside for now.”

I tipped my chin toward the entrance as I spoke to Ludwig. He gave me an anxious look that practically screamed, Are you sure about this?

Staying huddled in here wouldn't change our fate anyway. If that dragon decided to incinerate us, we would die without ever lifting a finger.

Better leave our weapons behind so we don't provoke it.

A single breath would erase this entire mountainside from the map. Struggling was utterly pointless. While I hoped Bbarmbo could pull off some miracle in an emergency, avoiding a fight was by far our best survival strategy. On high alert, every nerve singing with tension, I stepped out of the cave. Somewhere along the way, Bbarmbo had hitched a ride onto my back.

“Peep-peep! Peeeee!”

“Grrrr.”

Oh, sweet heaven above.

The instant I cleared the cave entrance, my jaw dropped at the behemoth before us. I had guessed its scale when its eye covered half the tunnel opening, but seeing the whole thing in daylight was another beast entirely. To see its head, I had to crane my neck all the way back, and a single one of its talons practically spanned the entire shelter courtyard. Calling it 'huge' felt like an insult. There was no battle to be had here; the concept of combat didn't even apply.

Thank goodness it had carefully stepped around our structures. Otherwise, the wooden shelters we spent days building for the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠animals would have been crushed into splinters. Staring down an apartment complex of gray scales was an experience no human could ever get used to.

“Oooh-oooh...”

“Kwoooong...”

As I stood paralyzed by the dragon's presence, familiar whimpers reached my ears. Turning my head, I spotted Ggobongi and Largo wrapped in a desperate, trembling embrace. Why those two had wandered out of their pens was a mystery, but the dragon's aura had probably scared them out of their hides. It was pure, primal terror born of overwhelming scale. Even the bravest beast could do nothing against it.

...Let me snap a photo first.

I lifted my phone and framed the dragon in the lens. Thanks to Ggobongi and Largo quaking right beside its hind leg, the sense of scale was captured beautifully — though the creature was so impossibly massive that looking at the screen made my depth perception feel broken.

At any rate, scale didn't matter right now; figuring out the dragon's intentions did.

“Peep-peep! Peeep!”

“...”

The hatchling chirped something animatedly, and the dragon swiveled its colossal head to stare down at me. Its eyes narrowed into thin slits, as if asking, Is what this little one says true?

Gently stroking Wonmo's back, I didn't break eye contact. I made sure my posture screamed: I would never harm a baby; I'm a peaceful man. Since dragons were supposedly as intelligent as humans, this non-threatening body language ought to do the trick.

Snort—

Fortunately, the gesture seemed to work. The dragon merely blew a gust of hot air from its nostrils and showed no signs of hostility. Honestly, its mere presence was a hazard to our health, but there was no need to point that out. At this stage, my only wish was for it to take its kid and fly away.

“Peeee~ peep-peep~”

So why on earth was this little hatchling waddling back over to me? Flapping its tiny wings, it hopped toward me with bouncy strides. Naturally, the mother dragon's massive gaze tracked its every move.

Flap! Flap!

With a final flurry of wingbeats, the hatchling landed squarely on top of my head. The sheer terror of having a dragon on my skull was enough to freeze my blood, but the sharp pain that followed immediately shattered the paralysis.

“Aaargh! My hair! It's ripping my hair out!”

“Peeek?!”

Being an infant didn't soften its talons. Even a baby dragon is still a dragon, which meant its feet were essentially tipped with solid steel spikes.

“Ow, ow, ow...”

“...”

Wincing and rubbing my scalp to check for bleeding, I looked up. The hatchling seemed to realize it had done something wrong, because it was cautiously reading my expression. It wore that exact look a puppy gives you when it knows it chewed up your shoes — eyes darting sideways, shrinking in guilt.

Wait, she's not gonna get mad at me over this, is she?

While the hatchling watched my face, I nervously watched its mother's. Thankfully, the mother dragon understood that her child was the one at fault and showed no reaction. Still, when were they going to leave? Having a walking natural disaster lingering in our backyard was terrible for my blood pressure.

“Um... aren't you going?”

“...Grrrk.”

At my quiet prompt, the dragon gave a low rumble to her hatchling. It was a clear signal to go home. The little one looked back and forth between me and its mother, appearing slightly conflicted. Staying here would only worry your mom, kid, and frankly, it's a massive burden on me. It would be infinitely better for everyone if you both just took off.

“Peeep~”

Thankfully, the hatchling chose its mother. It was still a baby, after all; nothing beat being in mama's embrace. Feeling a strange mix of relief and bittersweetness, I patted Wonmo's back as he clung to my chest. Wonmo had calmed down enough by now to peek shyly at the dragon.

“Kyuu. Kyu.”

“...Wonmo?”

Why are you reaching your paw out toward the hatchling? Stop that right now!

Ignoring my panic, Wonmo reached out toward the little dragon as if pleading for it to play a little longer. To my surprise, the hatchling froze in its tracks, turning around to stare intently at Wonmo. This unexpected development even caused the mother dragon's slit eyes to widen slightly.

“...Peeep!”

“Kyuu?”

“Peeep! Peep!”

“Kyuuu.”

The two cubs began exchanging earnest cries. I couldn't understand a single syllable of their ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠beast babble, but the tone unmistakably carried the vibe of: See you later! It felt like: I'll head home for now, and then I'll figure out if I want to come back.

Come back where?! Hell no!

Don't you dare come back! Please, leave forever! The kid was adorable, but the mother was terrifying. The only saving grace was that the mother wasn't an entitled helicopter parent. If she had been a Karen, I would already be a pile of ash.

Flap! Flap!

Before long, the hatchling scrambled up onto the dragon's massive brow. Once her young was securely nestled in place, the mother unfurled wings vastly wider than her own body and beat them downward. The resulting backdraft was catastrophic.

“Gaaah!”

“Whoaaa!”

A monstrous gale ripped across the shelter courtyard. I nearly got blown right off my feet, and if a grown man was nearly sent airborne, the loose tools nearby didn't stand a chance. Every unanchored item went sailing into the sky.

“...Krrng.”

The dragon appeared visibly sheepish, clearly not having anticipated that blast of collateral wind. Right. At least you have a shred of conscience left. What a relief.

With a thunderous flap, the dragon rocketed into the sky and vanished at blinding speed. It felt like a typhoon had just barreled through our front yard.

“Aigoo... my shelter...”

And it literally was a disaster zone. A single flap of those wings had turned our painstakingly organized shelter into a chaotic mess. The silver lining was that our sturdy brick houses and the farming plots were unscathed. The cooking utensils and assorted tools, however, had either been blown to bits or scattered across the forest.

“#$%!@?”

Hearing my gloomy mumble, Ludwig clapped a comforting hand onto my shoulder. His gesture conveyed a clear message: We survived, so count your blessings. This is a massive win.

I agreed, but I still hadn't imagined our parting would leave such a mess in its wake.

“...Let's just eat.”

“%$.”

A bolt out of the blue couldn't describe it better. After coaxing Ggobongi and Largo out of their full-blown panic, I set about preparing our delayed meal. More than half of the dried fish we had gathered had been swept away by the dragon's wing draft, but our remaining stock was generous enough that we wouldn't starve.

Praise the Sun was spouting utter horror stories, but I casually ignored him. It had only been a single day. What kind of trust could possibly be built in twenty-four hours to make a dragon return here? Even if it had formed a brief camaraderie with Wonmo, a mother dragon wouldn't just drop her cub off like an after-school program.

Looks like my whole morning will be spent tidying up.

Roughly two hours passed while we cleaned up the scattered debris. Just as I turned to head inside the cave to tend to some mushroom beds with my remaining time—

Flap! Flap!

A massive, rhythmic wingbeat thundered in my ears. At the same time, the wind began to whip up into a sudden frenzy. It wasn't just me; every person and animal in the shelter sensed the unsettling shift in the atmosphere. Struck by a chilling premonition, I slowly raised my head toward the heavens.

WHOOOOSH!

Descending with overwhelming majesty, the colossal dragon revealed itself directly above us, casting an enormous shadow that plunged the entire shelter into darkness. Just as every beast and man froze mid-motion, struck speechless by the monstrous silhouette—

“Peeeeep!”

The hatchling flapped its tiny wings and touched down lightly on the ground. A split second later, wearing an utterly radiant, joyful expression, it slammed face-first onto my cheek, sticking to me like a leech. Jolted back to reality by the impact, I frantically pried the little lizard off my face.

“Grrrr.”

Flap!

Before my brain could even begin to process what was unfolding, the mother dragon banked sharply and pivoted mid-air. But not before locking eyes with me one last time. It was an unmistakable, wordless signal: I have errands to run, so watch my kid while I'm out.

I stared blankly into the sky as the massive shape grew smaller in the distance, a numb mutter spilling past my lips.

“...Ma'am?”

When coming in, it was up to the child.

“Excuse me, ma'am?!”

When leaving, it was entirely up to the parent.

“MA'AM!!”

This shelter isn't a daycare!