Change or Growth
“Uwaaaah! Red Dragon! This wasn’t in the stories!!”
I stared at the blue dragon interrupting my sleep again, wondering what the hell she’d eaten to make her like this.
“How can you be so indifferent to the people you took in? They’re one step away from malnutrition!”
Of course that was why I’d hired her—to handle crap like that. I couldn’t comprehend why she was complaining about it, and frankly, I didn’t want to.
So I rolled over to go back to sleep, but she must’ve thought her plea lacked punch because she suddenly shifted into her dragon form and continued in that deafening Dragon Tongue.
[If this keeps up, you’ll never sleep in peace. Those people need food to manage this place!]
[…Then why don’t you fetch it yourself? Why do you young ones come barging in without even trying? No persistence at all.]
[You said you just want to live quietly and comfortably here!]
[You know me well. Then go back and do your job—]
[Then at least create an environment where your kin can do something!]
[…]
[They just eat, sleep like living corpses, play with rocks all day—and even that’s not enough.]
[…So doesn’t that mean they lack effort and sincerity?]
[Only me and that elf mother-daughter pair are foraging outside. You shed five scales to recruit more, but would you accept that?]
…No, weren’t the people at fault for refusing free handouts? How could they live in this world if they were so scared of something completely optional?
I just couldn’t wrap my head around it.
[At this rate, they’ll all die of depression or starvation. If you want them to survive and manage this place on their own, there are things you need to do.]
…Listening to her, I caught a whiff of something foul. The stench of hassle.
One step in that direction, and I’d be stuck slaving away without escape.
But the problem was, she had a point. The reports reaching my ears lately backed up everything she was saying.
—…Mom, how do we get out of here? How can we go outside?
—Son. Just wait a little longer. This is… our punishment. The great chieftain, the elves—we’re paying for our sins….
—What about my little sibling…? They just opened their eyes….
—…. They can’t even walk yet….
Utterly depressing conversations.
If this kept up, they’d die. And then what about all my hard work running around outside lately? If I’d invested, I deserved returns—no matter what.
Right now, the “elf” stock had a buy signal flashing blue. To recoup this potential loss, it looked like I’d need to water it a bit.
[…Sigh. Fine. What should we start with? Focus on the least annoying stuff.]
So I turned my head back around and opened my mouth.
Only then did the blue dragon shift back to human form with a satisfied look.
“Don’t just hoard this gold—spend it. Shed a few more scales too. And follow me. We’ve got stuff to do outside.”
[…Got it.]
…Feeling the hassle stench grow stronger, I nodded helplessly.
This cave’s layout was pretty simple. Entrance first. A short walk in led to a wide space. A bit farther, and you hit the ruined temple where I always slept. The distance wasn’t too close or too far—enough to feel like separate areas.
But that was just my perception. For most elves except Elenoa and Isabella, it felt like “calamity” lived next door.
“R-Red Dragon…!”
“It’s an h-honor to see you….”
They trembled and bowed every time they glimpsed me. Couldn’t be helped.
[…Yeah.]
I glanced at them briefly, then turned to the blue dragon. I couldn’t understand her actions.
What was the point of us facing them like this? They’d tire themselves out fearing me, and I’d waste energy figuring out how to deal with them. Zero benefits for anyone. Why bother?
That’s when it happened.
“Oh, you’re here? Red Dragon?”
[Elenoa? It’s been a while.]
Elenoa emerged from the elves, looking gaunt and haggard. Exhaustion etched her face. She clearly wasn’t sleeping or holding up well.
Just as the blue dragon said—this elf group wasn’t functioning properly.
“…Haha, we look a mess, don’t we? I’m sorry. I should’ve taken better care of myself.”
And Isabella, appearing behind her, wasn’t in great shape either.
Hmm. Everyone except those two… No, that’s not fair. I did say something.
A tiny pang of guilt hit me.
“…That’s probably why you’ve come to help us, right, Red Dragon?”
But Elenoa’s words made my brain freeze. Help them? When did I say that?
I shot the blue dragon a look, and she smirked lightly before continuing.
“Everyone! Today, the Red Dragon is granting your requests—special occasion!”
…What?
“Even the smallest things! Want bison meat? Widen this place? Or ride on the Red Dragon’s back and fly?”
…Me?
“Any little request! If it seems tricky, me and these mother-daughter elves will help!”
The blue dragon was definitely crazy. No other explanation.
Besides, who’d dare ask me anything? I was calamity, terror, the Apocalypse’s Red Dragon. No way anyone would.
But then.
“Um…”
[…?]
“S-Sorry. It’s nothing.”
A voice from moments ago—the elf cradling her child, sighing worriedly. It echoed in the space.
“No, ma’am. What were you going to ask?”
The blue dragon pounced, her usual friendly tone and smile drawing it out.
The elf glanced between me and her, then squeezed her eyes shut.
“…C-Could you get some milk? For our baby.”
She revealed the newborn in her arms. Clearly unhealthy at a glance. But born to parents blessed by my power, it had even paler skin and silver hair.
—Huff… huff…
The child breathed weakly.
I looked at the baby, then Elenoa and Isabella. They met my gaze with weary smiles, saying nothing, just standing silently.
…Couldn’t procure it leisurely.
Malnourished mother meant poor milk supply. But only a few could go outside. No livestock here either, so no reliable milk source.
Somehow still breathing—probably scraps from the blue dragon. Barely enough, not abundant.
[Elenoa, Isabella. Here’s gold. Can you get food for that child?]
“Yes, of course, Red Dragon.”
[But that’s not enough. You need livestock, crops too.]
I said that, then eyed the wall.
Stable structure, won’t collapse easily. A dragon’s eye—a true dragon’s—spotted the perfect spot.
“Wh-What? Red Dragon? Where are you going?”
I strode—dashed—right to it. To smash the wall. To carve new space.
I slammed my body into it.
—Krraaaash…!!!
Cracks spiderwebbed, rocks flew.
—Fwoooosh…!!
My breath melted them before they hit the elves.
I meticulously shaped the new space. Heated with fire, scraped with claws. Inspected every inch for stability.
Finally, about thirty minutes later, I returned and spoke slowly.
[Raise livestock and crops there.]
“…Pardon?”
[Get permission from the blue dragon. She’ll check if it’s feasible. If so, gold will flow freely.]
…Talking was a hassle too, but whatever. I didn’t want to bring home strays irresponsibly just to let them starve.
What would that make me, compared to my past self?
“Th-Thank you…! Truly, thank you…!!”
[Food problems solved soon. Anyone else with requests?]
So I sat before them again.
Because that was a lord’s duty.
I kept listening to their stories, their pleas.
[So… you want to study my scales?]
“Y-Yes… While making magic circles, I noticed… your scales, Red Dragon, they’re… really fascinating…”
[…Fine. Got it.]
Leviathan watched the Red Dragon sit patiently, listening to the elves, and felt immense satisfaction.
It was inevitable.
The Red Dragon was called a being even gods couldn’t handle. Sure, gods were outside the material realm, limited by interference rules—not truly powerless. And the Red Dragon still bore mortal fate, not fully immortal.
But those details didn’t matter. It was the weight of the Apocalypse’s Red Dragon.
And here he was, sitting with elves, conversing casually. A delightful sight.
Especially because…
…The Red Dragon—no, at least the current one—has no great ambitions. Even if someone tried to kill him, or succeeded, he’d probably just think, Guess it’s time, and go.
He’d changed, even if slightly.
Before his seclusion—200 years ago—the Red Dragon was pure calamity.
Now, he saw everything as transient hassle, fully enlightened.
But through that change, he’d developed “bonds.”
Connections only intelligent beings could feel—impossible to shake off.
The Red Dragon had them now.
He won’t take kindly to anyone touching what’s ‘his’ anymore.
The Red Dragon was mighty. But not great.
All feared him, none worshipped or followed.
But if he kept changing like this? If he came to cherish his enclosure?
That inner sanctum would be safer than anywhere. She, traveling with him. His countless followers. All secure.
…He said he didn’t want to be Dragon King. But he’s inevitably becoming a ‘king,’ isn’t he?
So she was pleased.
Because she’d chosen to stay with him.
Because he’d begun, however slightly, to shoulder the crown’s weight.
Constitutional monarchy, he said. Shaping a fine king… probably falls under my duties too?
She gazed at the Red Dragon with warm eyes.