It Will Definitely Work Out
Dullahan clutched the air with both hands, as if reluctant to let the fading lemon scent slip away.
No matter how I think about it, this is the perfect gift for Dullahan. Born from darkness, he won't be overwhelmed by its power, and his loyalty as a familiar was already strong.
For Dullahan, who barely felt any bodily sensations, the world's stimuli came solely from the thrill of battle.
Born from death and doomed to a melancholic existence, the scent box Rune had crafted offered him more than just fragrance and mana effects.
As Heungmi said, he needs time to recover—and time to enjoy life too.
Rune was satisfied with the box's effects.
Still, Perdikion's condition nagged at him; it felt uneasy knowing it might warp into something strange if used carelessly on others besides Dullahan.
But I made it for Dullahan in the first place, so it doesn't matter.
Around the time the lemon scent fully dissipated, Perdikion called out to him with a tilt of his chin.
"Rune."
A round, white light entered the Black Room.
Rune instinctively realized what Rai's appearance meant and furrowed his brow.
[O_O/]
"......She's coming?"
He asked out of courtesy, but his voice carried a sense of defeat, already guessing her intent.
Rai used light to draw Christina's form and her return in the air.
Seeing the completed image, Rune stared into space and let out a deep sigh.
Perdikion, watching not just Dullahan but Rune's face—plastered with worldly worries—wore a sympathetic expression.
"Little brother. Is it her, after all?"
"......Yeah."
And the next day, Christina returned to the lair.
"Lune Eclipse."
Her stern voice held no warmth whatsoever.
The gentle, radiant eyes that once shone with kindness had sunk into a cold, piercing blue that stabbed at him.
Rune, who had already steeled himself, reverted to his true black hatchling form and drooped his ears.
"Kyuu."
Even seeing Rune so utterly dejected, Christina's face remained the coldest and stiffest she'd ever shown him.
"You know what you did wrong, don't you?"
[I'm sorry. I know you're mad because I went to a dangerous place on my own.]
"And you know an apology alone won't cut it."
Clink.
Christina raised her right hand, and golden chains coiled around it.
The moment Rune saw those golden chains, he felt her genuine anger.
"And you knew this would happen, yet you ignored my request anyway."
A quiet fury laced her stiff voice as gold began to flicker in her blue eyes.
"I despise those who break promises most of all."
He swallowed heavily, the saliva feeling like lead in his throat.
No matter how kind she was, he truly felt it now—she was a Gold Dragon, the Empress of Light.
"How can a child as clever as you keep repeating such foolish mistakes? Perhaps I've been too lenient all this time?"
Not the sunlight-gold of her gaze, but eyes like stars frozen in midwinter.
The pressure squeezed Rune's body, freezing even his heart.
This has to work.
Gulp.
Tensing up, he gathered his resolve for his secret plan.
For my idea to work... it can't have a hint of falsehood.
Even as he thought that, his hands clenched tight from the nerves.
Heat rose to his face.
I might regret this later, but now's not the time to worry about that.
It was a method he'd never tried even in his past life.
Unfamiliar as it was, that made it all the more effective, he figured, steeling himself.
"Kyu, kyuu huu."
In his hatchling form, Rune filled his large, round almond-shaped eyes with anxious trembling.
He looked every bit the small child quaking in fear.
With a thoroughly crestfallen face, he dropped his gaze to the floor, fidgeting his tiny front paws together.
"Kyuuu......"
[I'm sorry, Christina. But Amelia's parents were suffering, so I just wanted to help somehow.]
"......"
Christina was usually warm and kind, but she drew lines she must protect with unyielding firmness.
Yet there were exceptions.
She often forgave Rune's mistakes with light scoldings, punishments, or gentle lectures.
Thinking back, every time, I was in my true hatchling form.
Yes. Christina had a particular weakness for hatchlings—for childlike innocence.
Of course, that alone wasn't enough.
If I add the pure, untainted motive a child might have...
Rune's plan to avoid her wrath: convince her that helping Amelia's family was the pure thought and action of an innocent child.
That's why he'd chosen this form for the greeting.
Chubby cheeks, round face, short legs.
Wings not yet fully grown.
An appearance brimming with the cuteness of a young hatchling.
Having a form that doesn't invite dislike is a clear advantage. If it helps disarm hostility, there's no reason not to use it.
A prickly feeling stirred inside, but this was strategic.
Across species, baby offspring were cute and beloved.
Even proverbs said hedgehogs thought their own young the prettiest.
How much more so for a rare young hatchling like him.
This has gotta work.
With ears folded back and shoulders slumped low, Rune looked utterly pitiful.
The little hatchling, knowing punishment was coming, hung his round head low, showing the back of it.
Tense time dragged on.
Seconds felt like condensed hours.
Then Christina let out a faint sigh.
"I heard the circumstances from Amelia of the Water clan. She said that without you, she surely would have lost her parents—and herself too."
Thankfully, Amelia had explained well, just as Rune had asked—what might have happened without his help.
Given Amelia's nature, she'd surely pleaded earnestly for leniency, grateful for saving her parents and herself.
Moreover, having checked the Water Lair herself, Christina could easily imagine the dire straits without Rune's intervention.
She must have realized the Water clan could have been wiped out if I hadn't stepped in.
No matter how cute the exterior, the rational reason had to satisfy her as an Elder.
He'd thought that reason alone might fall short, but hearing it stemmed from a child's kind heart softened even her.
Linking the realistic fallout of inaction to the coincidental good from a child's pure deed—it connects perfectly.
It was flawless.
No adult could purely blame a child who simply wanted to help someone.
Especially Christina, who valued living as a true dragon above all.
Thus, getting angry over an act that saved a dragon clan went against her values as an Elder.
Christina murmured softly, her voice much gentler.
"Yes, you're still just a young hatchling. I've probably forgotten that somewhere along the way."
Rune had hatched the phoenix egg soon after birth, resolved the Fire clan's chronic dwarf issue and Perdikion's matter.
He'd naturally undertaken training that other hatchlings might find grueling and boring, even discovering and clearing the first hidden dungeon in the Fire clan's lair.
This time, he'd lifted the Water clan's ancient curse and darkness, saving the family.
Feats no ordinary dragon could achieve, and more than once or twice.
Have I unconsciously started treating this child like a full Adult dragon?
But the reason Rune had to act so mature was singular.
A child who barely survived alone after losing his entire clan to war.
Christina knew fully—through the transmission magic—how desperately she wished for Rune to grow strong and become the Lord of Darkness.
That must be why he'd accomplished so much.
With pity, Christina gazed down at him.
"You're just a hatchling who knows he must revive the Darkness clan."
Admirable and praiseworthy as his mindset was, a child couldn't become an adult overnight.
Her own expectations might have weighed on his young shoulders.
Reflecting on her anger toward Rune—who acted against those expectations without realizing—Christina gave a wry smile.
It's only natural for a young hatchling to err and stumble.
Rune was simply a child who wanted to save his friend, by any means.
The golden binding chains vanished from Christina's hand.
Her anger faded, replaced by a soft voice as if nothing had happened.
"I'm sorry."
His mature, admirable ways had gradually erased the image of him as a little child.
She'd grown angry at his foolishness—rushing into life-threatening places without caution, chasing power.
Now she felt ashamed for nearly unleashing Chains of Restraint on a child who simply couldn't ignore those in need.
Christina slowly knelt on one knee, matching eye level with Rune.
She gently placed her hand atop his black, plump paw.
"Forgive me, Rune. For scaring you."
"Kyuk."
Rune sneaked a glance, then grasped her hand tightly with his still-sulky face.
"Somehow, I forgot you're still so young. To frighten such a cute child and make you all mopey......"
Christina looked down at the hand holding her stubby little paw.
"You just wanted to help the troubled Water clan."
"Kyuu......"
Rune nodded and wrapped his arms around Christina's neck.
As she patted his back, he secretly sighed in relief.
It worked.
Feeling his gambit had paid off—and better than expected—he relaxed.
A method I'd never have thought of in my usual state... but it turned out well.
Though things went smoothly, a twinge of conscience pricked him.
Feeling a bit sorry for Christina falling for his act, he rationalized it inwardly.
At least my intent to help Amelia was genuine. Better than letting another tragedy unfold.
Without his action, protecting the Darkness clan's power would have demanded the Water clan's sacrifice.
Well done, Amelia.
This success rested on Amelia's heartfelt gratitude and plea.