5th Dragon Stable (2)
Of course, a competent Dragon Knight would have extensive knowledge about dragon ailments.
Owen's expertise in this area went without saying—it was exceptional.
Back in the day, even the dragon veterinarians had sought his counsel first.
So, from that brief chaotic glimpse earlier, he'd already pinpointed the problem.
“Kieeeek!”
The issue now was the thoroughly enraged dragon right in front of him.
It looked ready to tear into anything in its path, and naturally, the steadfast Owen became its prime target.
“Kieek!”
The Murish dragon's massive eyes glared at Owen.
They were a stunning golden hue.
Its pupils were long and vertically slit, surrounded by black veins branching out like tree limbs.
“There, there. I don't want to fight you.”
Owen tried to soothe it gently, but it fell on deaf ears, as expected.
Emotion State - Excited
As the Murish dragon bared its fangs ferociously, a foul stench wafted out.
“Not going down easy, eh?”
Owen realized he had no choice.
The trick was timing the dodge.
There's that toe twitch again.
It was a telltale sign the Murish dragon showed right before lunging at its foe.
The moment the twitching stopped, it would strike.
Owen lowered his stance, fully focused, ready to bolt at any second.
One bite from that maw could shear off a limb without effort.
Its teeth-packed head was like a small shield in size.
“Kek!”
With a sharp grunt, the Murish dragon's jaws snapped forward.
Owen, prepared, leaped aside in a flash.
The onlookers gasped in awe.
“Whoaaa!”
It had been a razor-thin escape.
Having missed, the Murish dragon reset its posture, prepping for another charge.
At least its attack patterns were predictably simple—a small mercy.
Owen dodged the follow-ups even more effortlessly than the first.
“Kieeeek!”
Frustrated by yet another failure, the Murish dragon shook its head and threw a tantrum.
Meanwhile, the nail-biting spectators showered him with admiration.
“He stepped up with such confidence for a reason!”
“Incredible. That speedy beast can't land a single bite!”
Some veteran handlers knew about the toe twitch before an attack.
But knowing and risking your life to evade were worlds apart—they were still amazed all the same.
“Just dumb luck a few times.”
“Better call the surgeon and prep.”
John and his cronies tried to downplay Owen's skill.
But they couldn't hide their growing unease.
“Kek!”
The Murish dragon seemed a bit flustered by its repeated misses.
Owen, on the other hand, was fully at ease now.
He had a specific goal in mind.
“Kek!”
As the next attack came, Owen dodged with an even riskier margin than before—perilously close.
The crowd erupted in shock.
“Ah!”
It truly looked like he'd been caught that time.
One step closer, and he'd have been chomped.
Owen was deliberately courting danger to help the Murish dragon.
The handlers had been clueless, but he'd spotted the issue in its upper gum.
A broken lower tooth had lodged there somehow.
No wonder it was irritable and in pain.
Refusing food due to the agony, it had exploded when a handler force-fed it.
That rancid breath came from the infected wound.
Owen swiftly grabbed the embedded tooth fragment.
“Kkuek!”
Startled, the Murish dragon instinctively yanked its head back and retreated.
The tooth pulled free with ease.
Splurt!
Dark blood sprayed as the small shard came out.
The inner rot reeked.
“Keek?”
With the fragment gone, the Murish dragon looked baffled.
“Keeek?”
It tilted its head, licking the wound with its tongue.
Pain lingered, but the nagging foreign object was gone.
The sudden relief made it forget its rage.
Owen seized the moment to coax it further.
“I'm not here to fight. I came to fix you up.”
“Keek?”
The Murish dragon seemed utterly confused.
Emotion State - Confusion
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With low intimacy, dragons don't comprehend their rider's words well.
Tone is crucial here.
Modulating pitch and pace matters most.
That's why Owen kept talking regardless—emotions convey through speech.
“I'm really just trying to help you heal. No harm intended.”
“Keeek...”
The Murish dragon softened its demeanor.
No more toe twitching.
Tense, but no intent to attack.
Owen edged closer, placing a hand on its snout.
The handlers flinched.
“Whoa there!”
They expected his hand to be bitten off.
But the outcome was the opposite.
“Kek!”
The Murish dragon merely shook its head and backed off once.
No further aggression.
Owen tried again slowly, and eventually, it accepted his touch meekly.
“Kek. Kek. Kek.”
As it closed its eyes with soft grunts, the spectators were awestruck.
“My god, he actually did it?”
“Never seen anything like that. Think you could?”
“Crazy talk. No way.”
John's gang, who'd kept their distance, crept closer to inspect.
“No way...”
John moved first in disbelief, his cronies following.
The Murish dragon glanced at them indifferently.
Owen offered a beehive tube at that moment.
The dragon flicked its tongue, sampling the scent particles curiously.
Emotion State - Questioning
It had no clue what it was.
But instinct told it this was harmless. Curiosity drew its snout closer for a taste.
“This is beehive propolis. Excellent antibacterial and anti-inflammatory properties. It'll help that swollen gum of yours.”
Owen planned to apply it to the gum while it sampled.
Of course, he had one more thing in mind.
“Come this way?”
He maneuvered the dragon so its rear faced John's approaching gang.
He had a little show planned.
Unaware, John and his crew drew near, peering at the now-docile beast.
They looked utterly perplexed.
The Murish dragon really had calmed down.
John hunted for any flaw to pick at, but found none.
“Go on, eat up.”
Ignoring them, Owen proffered the propolis powder.
As the dragon curiously licked it, he slathered the exposed gum generously.
Anti-inflammatory on the wound naturally stung.
The Murish dragon shrieked in agony.
“Kieeeek!”
Pain relaxed its cloaca, and it shat itself from the shock.
Splat!
With a thunderous fart, a massive steaming turd cannoned out, blanketing John's gang from behind.
“Gaaah!”
“Aaaack!”
Screams erupted everywhere.
No one could stay composed under a hot, reeking pile of dragon dung.
John, out front for appearances, was coated head to toe in the sticky sludge.
“You had the runs, huh?”
Owen pinched his nose against the stench, chuckling.
He knew Murish dragons shit when startled.
That's why he'd aimed this prank at John's crew.
He hadn't expected such perfect precision, though.
Owen burst out laughing at their shit-smeared state.
“Hahaha!”
Even the Murish dragon, mid-rage, cracked up at the sight.
It found the spectacle hilarious too.
“Kekek! Kekekek! Kek! Kek!”
Dragons laughing was rare—proof this one despised John's gang.
No surprise. They wouldn't have treated it well.
Unexpected revenge bonds you closer.
This unintended payback had won the Murish dragon's favor.
Plus, despite the brief pain, it sensed the gum treatment was beneficial.
Owen stroked it while addressing John.
“Go wash up. You reek.”
John trembled, barely containing his fury.
Plop.
A gooey clump slid from his bald pate.
Glancing back, Owen saw the other handlers grinning ear to ear.
Clearly, John's group had few fans.
“This... grrr!”
“What? Got something to say? That look screams you'd curse a noble.”
“Kuh!”
“Go ahead, try it. I'm petty, though—I'd summon the baron's guards for noble defamation.”
John deflated, on the verge of exploding.
He'd figured the young, green noble for an easy mark.
Big mistake.
The class divide hit hard; he had no choice but submit.
“...Understood.”
“Good. Let's keep things smooth from here—no more ugly scenes.”
Trembling with humiliation, John fled to the well with his crew.
A swarm of flies trailed them.
“Perfect match.”
Owen planned to crush any obstacles to normalizing the 5th Dragon Stable.
“Keek!”
“Ah, that hurt earlier, huh? You'll be able to eat properly again starting tomorrow.”
Owen examined the Murish dragon anew.
His scrutiny revealed detailed info.
Emotion State - Peaceful
Intimacy - 45
Sensory Sharing - Impossible
Potential - A Rank
“What? A rank?”
Owen couldn't hide his shock.
He'd recently appreciated how rare A-rank potential was.
Grenville was an S-rank outlier; none since had hit A.
Yet here in the 5th Dragon Stable, full of troublemakers, was an A-rank.
Owen's jaw dropped.
Jackpot!
This Murish dragon wasn't a special variant.
'Normal' type, if anything.
But A-rank potential made it exceptional.
I have to claim this one.
Murish dragons were small but fiercely brave.
They clamped down and wouldn't let go, scaring off even ogres at times.
Ogres would win a fight with their size, but it was like humans fleeing a rabid hound.
No—with A-rank potential, it might handle ogres easily. Can't wait to see how big it grows.
Plus, Murish dragons had other perks.
Their size allowed constant deployment for VIP protection.
Grenville was superior but over ten meters—impractical always.
This calf-sized one could stick by his side.
Sensitive temperament, intolerant of unauthorized approaches—perfect bodyguard.
Its black stripes looked cool too, on second glance.
“You're one fine beast.”
“Keek!”
Sensing the warmth, the Murish dragon chirped happily.
“Back to the stable now. I'll feed you personally starting tomorrow.”
Thankfully, it obeyed, retreating inside.
Owen planned to request it from the Surpuk Duke once settled.
Clang.
Locking the gate, he turned to find handlers gathered—not John's lot.
“What's this?”
An elderly representative stepped forward with a greeting.
“We've long hated how John disrupts order here. He bullied us, and we couldn't do a thing. Now, it feels like discipline's returning.”
“Oh? Is that so?”
“We've worked here for years—we know better than anyone how bad things are. If you're serious about fixing this, we'll give our all.”
The others chimed in agreement.
“Same here. Please lead us.”
“Seeing Lord Leire's skill builds trust. Forgive our earlier doubts.”
Owen's prowess had conquered not just the dragon, but the handlers too.
Disillusioned with the chaos, they now hoped for change.
Owen welcomed their attitude.
“Good. I appreciate the cooperation. We'll overhaul the entire 5th Dragon Stable. Let's make it the best under the Surpuk Duke.”
Thus began Owen's stable life.
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