I'll Adopt You as My Older Brother
Perdikion scowled at the small, cunning black hatchling in front of him.
He had been told by Pasiyas that finding out Lune's true name would be beneficial, but that had nothing to do with it.
Seeing the pure, innocent smile as the boy called him “hyung” and “hyung” made Perdikion realize that having a younger brother wasn’t so bad after all.
The naive face of someone who had no idea just how grand it would be to share a true name with the one destined to become the Lord of Fire and become Perdikion’s sworn older brother… it was infuriating.
‘How could someone not understand how monumental it is to become my younger brother, the Lord of the Fire Clan?’
The moment his plan failed, a displeased gaze settled on the imugi.
Of course, Lune had read the mood.
‘What’s wrong with that little rascal now? He’s glaring at me with a bad mood.’
But he didn’t want to bring it up and cause unnecessary trouble, so he merely gave an innocent smile and kept quiet.
The young fire clan member stared at Lune for several seconds before beginning his explanation of the true name.
“The true name is very important. It’s connected to how a dragon uses mana, so treat this as a lesson and listen carefully.”
Lune nodded, having heard the story of transmission magic many times before.
“Dragons are a race that gives rise to the elemental attributes that make up the world. That’s why they can use word magic and grant the root of their existence and the starting point of their destiny.”
Perdikion’s red eyes narrowed for a moment before returning to their usual state.
“The moment you named that bird ‘Baekya,’ you’ve opened a path for it to walk in this world. Especially since it’s close to the origin of fire attributes, the meaning behind its true name won’t be light.”
“I see.”
Most of what he already knew came from Christina’s knowledge and their conversations, but hearing it summarized by Perdikion felt completely different.
“Names carry and give life to us, and making promises with the life we’ll live can create a tremendous destiny that none of us could have imagined. I’ll give you an example so you understand. Transmission magic is the prime example. So…”
While listening to Perdikion’s continued explanation, Lune offered the appropriate replies and let his thoughts wander.
‘Creating destiny…’
A chuckle escaped him inwardly.
Even though he had failed, he knew more than anyone how to create destiny.
‘Even the destiny I wanted to become a dragon wasn’t light at all.’
After training and accumulating virtues for a thousand years to reach the transcendent dragon state, the experience of it collapsing in an instant still haunted him.
‘Isn’t that just insane? To kill an imugi like me and instantly shatter the destiny that had built itself up for 999 years.’
He recalled the miserable human he had been at the end and shook his head in his heart.
Then a strange thought slowly rose.
Reversing 999 years of effort with something that only took a hundred years.
‘Destiny is surprisingly balanced in exchange. With just one human’s power, is it possible to turn the tide?’
Once he reached that conclusion, a peculiar hypothesis appeared alongside it.
‘Was it really just simple death, or was reincarnation as a dragon pure coincidence?’
If it had been among humans, he might have thought it possible to twist fate.
Their lives were finite and short, yet they constantly changed, grew, and created countless branching points.
But he, as a divine imugi, had not been like that.
‘Just before the transcendent flow completed after 999 years of effort. Adding inevitability upon inevitability, turning the fact of becoming a dragon into something natural…’
A surge of frustration rose and then vanished, replaced by absurdity.
‘Yeah, what’s the point in thinking about it now?’
A bitter feeling lingered.
He already knew. Nothing could be uncovered by thinking about it anymore.
But the thousand-year hardship had ended only a month ago.
Even if he had received a lucky new life, the suffering from before had vanished as a shameful bubble, leaving nothing to cling to.
“Hey. What are you thinking about over there?”
Perdikion, who had been explaining the mindset needed to become a fire clan lord, noticed Lune’s distraction and asked.
Lune shook his head.
“Nothing at all. I’m listening carefully.”
“Then tell me what I just said.”
“To become a lord, you need the ability to dominate others and the fear they hold.”
Since his ears were open, Lune answered easily.
He had been distracted for a moment, but now that he said it out loud, the thought felt as outdated as a wooden plank.
“That’s right. You’re listening well. Dominance comes from a vast difference in power and fear. You must manage your subordinates so well that they cannot even think of challenging you.”
Perdikion’s words clearly showed what he had been taught and how he had grown.
Lune feigned ignorance and pointed out the flaw in the story.
“But hyung, isn’t creating fear just making more enemies?”
The unacceptable words made Perdikion furrow his brows.
“Didn’t I tell you properly? It means you must manage those impure ones well.”
As far as Lune knew, no country governed by fear politics had been running smoothly.
He adjusted his tone to something easy and childish and continued.
“Well… but if it were up to me, I’d want to follow those who like me.”
“Bkya.”
Baekya lifted one wing in agreement and waddled over.
Lune watched the sight with suspicion.
‘Is this kid actually able to understand everything I say?’
When he looked at Baekya with a hint of doubt, the white chick spread its small wings as if begging to be picked up.
It looked like it was reaching out an arm to ask for love.
Once Lune gently picked up Baekya, Perdikion said bluntly.
“You want to follow those who like you? That’s really naive.”
Perdikion thought it was something a newly born hatchling would say and snorted.
“That’s something only street performers could understand. The ones at the very top must have the control to move every subordinate with just one word.”
Lune thought about what he had heard.
‘It’s not entirely wrong, but it’s fossil theory from a thousand years ago.’
What Perdikion was saying now had been popular during the great dragon war.
In short, it was the kind of traditional teaching heard in old training halls.
‘Back then, clans had divided into sides and fought, so that way of thinking would have been necessary.’
No matter the era, wars were filled with survival struggles and schemes.
In a world where death could come from an uncontrollable variable, control was the most important factor, and one obeyed and cooperated even if it seemed irrational.
But now that the war had ended, it was time to comfort those who had been exhausted by blood and sacrifice.
If they had continued politics using control and fear as Perdikion described, the fatigue of those under his rule would only have worsened.
‘That must have been a miserable thing for him to live with.’
The previous fire lord of the fire clan, Pasiyas the red dragon, had been a principled dragon with a strong tendency toward control.
But Perdikion was different.
His ears turning red, quietly enduring when Christina stroked him, unconsciously sighing in delight after eating something delicious, or grumbling about a bird he didn’t like showed that he was far more emotional than expected.
‘I can’t tell this to the dragon hatchling in front of me. It won’t reach his ears.’
Since it was a higher-level observation, he couldn’t say it as if he knew everything about a newly born dragon.
If he spoke wrongly, he might have been misunderstood like Christina had warned.
Cold and stiff on the surface, but surprisingly strong in emotion, he could get his pride hurt or feel ashamed.
After thinking for a moment, Lune asked gently.
“……Didn’t you feel upset?”
“Upset?”
“So… hyung is strong, right?”
Perdikion nodded at the question.
“What does that have to do with it?”
“I mean… it’s scary, or actually it must be hard. I thought maybe there were loyal subordinates who quietly followed hyung’s way without complaint. Look, just look at Baekya here.”
Lune said so and bent his waist to pick up Baekya with both hands.
The white bird chirped happily and flapped its downy wings lightly.
“According to hyung, this one is my subordinate. If you don’t like it, you say you don’t like it. If you do, you say you do.”
“Bkya!”
“It’s free and honest. But when I hear about hyung, I don’t see anyone like Baekya.”
As if it was praise, Baekya lifted its head and pricked up the black feather that had sprouted.
Perdikion looked at such Baekya and narrowed his eyes while muttering.
“……That doesn’t matter. My older brother and I can’t be like you and Baekya.”
Perdikion’s expression darkened as he finished speaking.
Lune understood.
His father had been using fear politics and teaching his son that it was right.
Even though it hadn’t come from Perdikion’s mouth, he must have treated the subordinate harshly too.
It was natural that there was no one around who could trust his honest heart.
Or if there was, it probably ended badly.
‘Even if we don’t divide things into good or evil too soon…’
It was also because he was not yet an adult and did not know Perdikion fully.
But above all, it was because he had met and understood the ones who had fallen into the island, offered as sacrifices, in his previous life.
Absolute good and absolute evil were fewer than people thought.
Rather, those who were good to someone and evil to another were far more common.
A father who loves his daughter and family while also being a landowner who burdens tenant farmers with excessive taxes to accumulate wealth.
‘Even divine beings aren’t so different. Even I, as an imugi, was a being who controlled natural disasters for humans, but to some humans I was a black and ominous imugi.’
Some even said that a being without fire stole fire that belonged to a god and gave it to humans.
As a criminal who committed an unauthorized act and received punishment, it was the most grateful being to humans.
Perdikion in front of him must have possessed that same duality.
‘It’s natural. Among those who receive a limited life, there is no one who can satisfy everyone. But there are priorities.’
For Perdikion to rule his lair with his own power and will, he needed to break free from his father’s way.
‘I don’t know how deep the crimes he committed before are, but he has no choice but to repent and repay them now.’
Turning over a new leaf was difficult in the first place.
But he could at least help by not adding more crimes and allowing him to atone and repay.
Lune smiled.
“At least talk to me comfortably, hyung.”
Perdikion looked at him for a moment, then agreed with a reluctant nod.
“You’re hopeless. Don’t look at me like that and I’ll do it.”