Warm and Savory
I'd been utterly screwed.
And not just a little—properly, thoroughly screwed.
Hiding in the egg to survive had been fine. But getting dragged straight back to the nest? No way in hell.
Pellelian had described the outside world to me.
-They've built their nest in a spot with a fantastic view.
A fantastic view meant high up. A vertical spire sharp as a giant's blade thrust into the ground. Atop the tallest one sat Wyvern Queen Seletta's nest.
-There are three more eggs nearby. It won't be easy, but grab the chance and escape. You lack flight, but with Isil's vines, you could make it down the spire somehow.
I'd planned to bolt the moment the mother stepped away. But shockingly, no such opportunity came.
-The mother's dug in deep. She's guarding her eggs, starving herself skinny.
Did our Medusa Mom guard her eggs that devotedly? Hard to picture, considering the tail-whips for disobedient kids.
-Monsters that birth many young at once treat them differently from those that birth few. Wyverns lay eggs just once in their lifetime. Four eggs isn't excessive in this brutal wild.
Seletta, having lost an egg to thieves before, wasn't letting her guard down. Days passed—how many, I couldn't say. My stomach growled, throat parched; I had no choice but to chug potion like water.
-Oh, the other eggs are hatching.
Sure enough, I heard it. Crack, crack—the sound of shells breaking.
"Peep!"
"Cheep-cheep!"
Noisy cries fitting baby birds—or rather, wyvern hatchlings. Miraculously, all three eggs hatched in sequence, like they'd planned it.
Perfect. Now she'll head out to hunt food for the chicks, right?
-I doubt it...
But Pellelian stayed pessimistic. Trapped in my egg, he was my only window to the outside.
-Uh oh.
Then he dropped something ominous.
-She's getting anxious because your egg isn't hatching.
Hell, the original eggs were barely more than raw ones anyway. Why had the others hatched so soon?
-Eggs need mother's warmth to develop properly. Left in that cold sub-space, they couldn't have ripened right.
Ombberto had stored them in his sub-space pouch. Idiot...
But that wasn't the point.
"Krrk!"
A worried cry, and the mother wyvern tapped my egg.
She's not seriously going to crack it open herself, is she?
That's no way to do it! But reasoning with a wyvern? Fat chance.
Crunch, crackle—
She started smashing it herself. Do or die. Ambush time? Isil's hellfire and my thunderbolt could land one solid hit.
-You'll die.
'Right!' I heeded Pellelian's advice.
The shell shattered fully; our eyes met. I desperately mimicked a newborn wyvern, wobbling like I couldn't hold my head up, chirping like one.
"Pee-si—"
A bit off?
"Peep!"
"Cheep!"
Thankfully, the others chirped right on cue. Up close, wyvern heads did resemble snakes. The mother did, the siblings did.
This might actually work.
I poured my soul into the act. Heard Pellelian snickering—nearly broke character.
"Krrgrrr..."
A weird rumble from the mother. Rage? Damn, busted!
Thinking about it, no wings, pure white, solo—I didn't look like a wyvern.
"Kragagagak!"
She bellowed deafeningly, blasting a destruction beam skyward. Clouds punched through—terrifying power.
Farewell, world.
No ideas, no confidence in winning or fleeing. The spire was insanely high, surrounded by subordinate wyvern nests.
Not a bad run, all told.
-Wait, she's not mad at you.
'Huh?'
No sign of crushing the snake impersonator. She checked if I had wings by flipping me, then legs. Realizing neither...
"Kuoooo!"
Tears welled in her eyes.
-There it is.
No way...
-She's sad her ugly duckling hatched. The runt: white alone, no wings or legs.
The ugly wyvern chick.
"Kuooooh!"
Furious at the humans who'd stolen her egg? As I inched back in disbelief, Seletta scooped me and her real chicks into one big hug.
Undeniable embrace.
-Congrats. You got a wyvern mom.
Her bosom was incredibly warm, reeking of rotten meat. Well, ride this out for now...
"Peep!"
"Chu-peep!"
Siblings reared up, crying, mouths agape. Frozen in shock, I felt mom's gaze. Hurriedly mimicked them, opening wide.
Then it happened.
Shoving siblings aside, mom regurgitated something straight into my mouth. Hot, thick—straight from her maw.
Special chick nutrition mush.
Urk!
-Don't spit! Swallow!
Gulp. Down it went.
Oblivion Wyvern Queen Seletta's Nutrition Mush
Flesh and Demonic Essence have grown.
Ughhh...
Earlier parts: The survival of 판당 (Pandan).
Human adventurers not all dead. Six of seven shredded, eaten by wyverns. One survivor: Pan-dang pretending dead in blood puddle.
He rises, wyverns gone. Surrounded by wyvern shit—his stench repelled them. He peels off a sticky patch revealing tattoo: Two Rings guild mark.
Real name Pandan, A-rank adventurer and Two Rings fixer. Mission: gather real info on wyvern domestication. Got the ampule for that.
Wonders if Empire really making wyvern knights. Thinks befriending snake better.
Then the interview section: Style as news article or interview transcript.
Solion Morning Reporter (R): ...So, Mr. Lobanton was an authority on monster ecology. Even the Magic Tower sought your counsel.
Dr. Lobanton Iod (L): That's right. I was fearless back then—now humbly so by force. Emerald Academy's headmaster invited me as visiting professor for a lecture.
R: Yet you entered the demon realm yourself for research. Truly admirable.
L: My biggest regret now.
R: Haha...
A senior observing my interview shot a fierce glare. My laugh awkward? No—he eyed Dr. Lobanton, whose leg shook violently, attention-grabbingly so.
R: Were you nervous, perhaps?
L: No. Why ask?
R: Your leg...
Delicate to chide an old, injured man. I glossed over; suddenly, he hiked his pants.
Thought him mad.
L: Sorry. My leg's like this.
Bearded men both, no shame—but I yelped cutely. His thigh bore horrific scars: like flesh shredded with red-hot giant needle, then knitted crudely.
R: Ouch, that looks painful.
L: It was agony. Still haunts me...
R: Saturnu Wyvern Queen Chugota's doing?
L: That thing? Pffahaha!
Soon understood the laugh.
L:That made these. He stripped pants fully—panties only. Left leg hid another secret: prosthetic below knee.
L: Treated me like a chew toy for chicks. Swallowed my left leg whole; right thigh's their mimicry scars.
Interviewed many trauma victims, but his churned the gut.
L: Wyverns shred prey usually. Post-birth, they drag live catches for chicks.
R: To teach them...?
L: Exactly.
R: Such intelligence in monsters.
L: Foolish talk. Birds do it. Monsters far smarter. Chugota led hundreds—true queen.
R: Yes.
L: Broke both arms so I couldn't harm chicks. He raised them—bone-protruding scars, trembling.
R: Understood.
L: And that's not all! As seasoned interviewer, I sensed his overheating. Too late to stop.
Excited, he ripped off his shirt—now panties-only freak.
L: See this scar!
R: Doctor, clothes first.
L: Chugota impaled me tree-top for hunt lessons. Collarbone puncture scar. But faded chest hair, wrinkly nudity hurt eyes more.
R: Calm down; this'll make bad article...
L: Wyverns are horrific! Cruel, evil monsters! Alert Empire—full knight dispatch!
Worse than war-trauma vet. Stopped before panties off.
L: Ahh, wyvern air raid! Air raid!
R: Sigh.
L: Total mobilization! Wyverns truly nightmarish.
* * *
Pan-dang trudged out, pondering escape, pants soaked—needs wash.