The Imugi's Cry in the Wind
Even covering my ears with my own hands couldn't block the sound waves ripping through my body.
It felt like my qi and blood were twisting in knots.
"……Kahek!"
Something was wrong.
I tried to vomit up what I'd eaten, but nothing came out.
What I'd pulled wasn't wild ginseng.
It was a Mandragora.
A medicinal herb that screams when uprooted, its shriek fatal to anyone who hears it.
Though a spirit medicine, harvesting it demanded facing death.
Rai, the light spirit who knew this, fluttered about in panic, not knowing what to do.
Rai cried out 'Help!' with its entire body.
The surrounding grasses and distant animals turned briefly at the spirit's desperate plea.
But nothing could drown out the Mandragora's scream.
"……Euk."
As the Imugi collapsed, heaving ragged breaths, wondering if this was the end—
Whoosh!
Shaaaah!
The wind blew.
-Kieeeek... eeeek......
The wind walled off the screaming Mandragora with a barrier of air.
At the same time, it enveloped the fallen Imugi in a protective wind dome.
Compressed by the air pressure, the Mandragora entered a vacuum.
Its screams began to weaken.
After total silence fell, only the whisper of wind remained.
Suddenly, the air around them stilled completely.
Sabak—the light crunch of grass underfoot.
"Pyaak!"
Startled Rai and the baby bird—eyes glistening with tears—gazed at their emerald-haired master.
His shadowed green eyes under his bangs were eerily serene, like voids.
The pom-pom on his hat and the decorative feathers swayed together.
Standing there like a dark forest, he felt utterly out of place in Christina's Lair.
"……."
He stared at the Imugi, then rolled it gently with his foot.
"Keuk. Kehek."
Then, laying the skyward-gazing Imugi flat, he pulled a round pill from his pocket and pushed it into its mouth.
Without chewing or swallowing, the gel-like substance melted like water in the Imugi's mouth and slid down its throat.
Pain eased, and clarity returned; the Imugi looked up at him.
"Kyuu……u."
'Who……?'
"……."
The one who saved the Imugi from crisis turned wordlessly and left.
Feeling his presence vanish, the Imugi slumped limply.
Cold sweat dripped, but its body was slowly recovering.
Meanwhile, Christina faced the massive Red Dragon elder, Pasiyas.
"Long time no see, Pasiyas."
His crimson body with golden eyes filled the vast stalactite cavern.
They'd arranged this meeting for a matter requiring face-to-face discussion, but she didn't yet know the details.
He hadn't even told her—a Red Dragon elder—what it concerned.
She'd granted audience only because she was a Gold Dragon elder.
Still, she felt some unease about it.
Thus, Pasiyas—the Red Dragon elder—adopted a somewhat lax demeanor.
"Speak."
Thud.
The cavern, grand with its stalactites, was too cramped for two dragons in true form.
Knowing this, Christina perched on a protruding rock before him without shifting to her true body.
"You hate tedium, so straight to the point."
"Good, good. Ever considerate."
Pasiyas loathed pleasantries, so her tact deserved praise.
He was rough, lacking deep patience.
"First, a Black Dragon Hatchling has been born."
The Red Dragon reared its beam-like neck, glaring at Christina.
"Of course. Born about a month ago. You can guess why."
A thunderous growl rumbled from Pasiyas's throat.
"Yes. Since the Black Dragon Hatchling's birth, nights have lengthened."
Dragons were massive mana conglomerates.
Even birth was an anomaly, rippling the world with omens.
About a month since the profound darkness of a Black Dragon Hatchling emerged.
The added weight of shadow attributes began manifesting signs.
Impossible to hide forever that a thought-extinct Black Dragon Hatchling had appeared.
"Not yet. But he might know. With omens, can't hide it forever."
Pasiyas's golden beast-pupils slitted vertically at her words.
The question Christina had awaited.
"Still a Hatchling, that child needs time to grow, gain experiences, and forge its own sense of self. So, I ask you to back us—keep Dragon Lord Isha from interfering."
She raised her right hand mysteriously near her chin, a subtle smile playing.
"That child recently revived a phoenix egg."
Pasiyas's thick brow twitched.
He couldn't believe someone had defied the law: a new phoenix only after the old one's death.
But it was Christina speaking.
Dismissing her as nonsense could doom even a fierce dragon like him.
Toward him—eyes sharp as if ready to devour her—she tilted her head slightly and explained.
"What would Lord Isha do if he learned this?"
Red aura flared from Pasiyas's body as he growled, words spilling.
Knowing he could crush vital creeds like protecting Hatchlings, Pasiyas bared his teeth at the arrogance.
Christina nodded.
"To him—who sacrifices individuals for the whole—the sole Black Dragon child would be a prized possession. Precedents exist."
Pasiyas snorted, cocking his head.
"Exactly."
Christina smiled faintly.
No one opposed the Dragon Lord.
But Red Dragons were the clan even he found most troublesome.
Born with fire's nature, their tempers flared hot then cooled fast.
Beautiful, powerful, yet capriciously changeable.
Purest, most self-centered, hottest-blooded.
Hardest to handle, acting purely on emotion—even the Lord found them a headache.
Christina feigned ignorance and asked again.
"By the way, how's Pel?"
Pasiyas's pupils narrowed sharply to slits.
Christina nodded twice.
The massive Pasiyas raised his head, spreading his wings.
Hot breath laced with negativity huffed out roughly.
"Yes."
Her gaze, resolute yet warm with amusement, met his.
"Born with a pure flame unswayed by the Lord, experienced elder life under you and a companion's love in nature's embrace."
Pasiyas's cold, sneering assessment followed.
"I'd like to hear why you think so, Pasiyas."
Christina's calm voice carried warmth and wisdom.
But Pasiyas's reply oozed arrogance, enough to mockingly incinerate her包容.
His pride in grooming an heir bloated; his judgment of his own child, insulting.
His unhesitant words didn't stop there.
Christina didn't rile; she wasn't the one to prove him wrong.
"Not necessarily."
Her gentle reply began soothing the savagery.
"Flames can raze lands and mountains, but a single candle's warmth can comfort many hearts."
His elder life suited Pasiyas, not all.
His harsh discipline was too tyrannical.
Unsuitable for fire-born independents.
"Flames differ in heat and hue. Not all a child is comes from parents, Pasiyas."
Fire wasn't only destructive infernos.
No rule demanded it.
Her kind yet steadfast blue gaze held his.
Pasiyas's red maw parted as laughter bubbled from his throat, growing louder, shaking the cavern air.
It faded to a snort.
They'd clashed over this before; he swallowed a sigh.
Pasiyas had no desire for friction either.
He showed no mercy to those defying him usually.
But Christina—sharing shadow clan's birth with him before the Lord—pleased him enough for leniency.
Pasiyas shifted lightly.
Even without wings, his bulk filled her vision.
"Merely assumed your wisdom."
Christina smiled softly.
Praising, yet sneering inwardly.