The Chancellor grimaced, irritation flashing across his face. He knew exactly how crude and unpredictable Kael could be. That dragon had power enough to ascend far beyond his current position, and yet he lacked the ambition to do anything with it.

What a waste.

Perhaps that was the price of the Dravaryns’ strength. Power without drive. Existence without purpose.

Pathetic.

For some reason, that clan had always produced such uselessly strong dragons who barely even acted like the dragons that they were.

The bitterness slipped through before he could stop it, but it didn’t last. It never did.

His expression smoothed out, settling into something calm. Cold.

It didn’t matter.

If they refused to lead, then he would.

For the sake of a better future, sacrifices were necessary. He wasn’t even asking for much. Just one piece. One runt.

That was all he needed to move everything forward.

But to get to that runt...

He needed the father.

His gaze shifted toward the red dragon in the distance. There was no way he would allow that pawn to die at the hands of someone as wasteful as Kael.

Malrik began calculating from where he stood. He could interfere. Create a disturbance. Push the dragon off balance. Maybe even distract Kael for a brief moment.

But before he could come up with anything concrete—

Something felt off.

His eyes narrowed.

A defensive stance?

And those flames...

They were blue, yes. But faint. Weak enough that he could barely sense them from this distance.

Moreover... since when had that golden dragon bothered to defend against anything?

"...?"

Then it clicked.

"...!"

"Ha."

A breath left him, sharp and sudden.

"Hahaha..."

The sound grew, spilling into something louder, unrestrained.

"HAHAHAHA!"

Of course.

Of course.

He simply hadn’t recognized it.

"Tavos," Malrik murmured, his voice low and manic.

"Forget the target."

His gaze locked onto the distant figure.

"All we need... is that runaway runt over there."

__

Meanwhile, the very same runt Malrik had set his sights on couldn’t care less about the arrival of someone he should never have encountered.

Right now, the child who only wanted to grow golden crops had far bigger problems.

"My lord! I-I think I can protect myself with this!"

Liam held his arms up in front of his face, voice shaking, but firm.

"So please, just focus on him while I get everyone to safety!"

The strange shield around him pulsed with light as it absorbed the incoming wind attacks. Each blade of air struck it and vanished, like it had never been there.

Clearly, he ended up safe. And that was a really good thing.

The only problem was that the child had no idea what he was doing either.

He didn’t know where the barrier came from or how to actually control it.

And if not for the way the faint bubble of light moved with him, he wouldn’t have even realized it was connected to him at all.

But it was.

The barrier followed him as he moved, steady and consistent as if it had set him as its center.

He wanted to say more. Wanted to reassure Orien that he was going to be fine.

But even when he couldn’t see his face, he could tell that the golden dragonling couldn’t afford to be distracted.

So Liam turned away and focused on what he could do.

Near the entrance, a massive treant stood trembling. Its branches curled inward as if trying to shield itself, its roots dug deep into the ground.

Of course, it wouldn’t move.

Fire was its natural enemy. More than just the dragon fear, the treant was probably more concerned about burning to death.

"Excuse me! Please come over here!" the child called out, urgency slipping into his voice.

Unlike the others, who were relatively smaller, Liam already knew he wouldn’t be able to drag this mister or miss. Not only did the difference in size alone make that impossible, but even though he was now a magical being, he didn’t think he’d be able to unroot the treant.

Still, he tried.

"Please! Staying here is dangerous!"

The treant didn’t respond. Its branches only pulled in tighter, clinging to itself instead of letting go of the ground.

It had already made its decision.

Since the dragon lord had arrived, there would be no more need to move.

No need to risk getting burned or cut when staying put felt safe enough.

And it wasn’t alone.

Liam’s eyes widened as he looked around.

Others were doing the same thing.

They were waiting.

Waiting for someone to save them.

His chest tightened.

Orien wasn’t his brother-in-law, the dragon lord, or his big brother, the last black dragon.

He was strong, most definitely yes, but with his increased sensitivity to mana, Liam could feel it now. The difference was too clear.

At this rate, the golden dragonling, his partner-in-crime, wouldn’t even get the chance to run.

His big brother had told him before to stay inside the tower if anything happened. The ancient barriers would hold.

But these people...

They weren’t moving.

They were just standing there.

Waiting to be saved.

Maybe it was a mix of disappointment and fear, but after hearing something scary, Liam flinched, his heart hammering against his ribs.

He hadn’t imagined it.

He’d heard it.

Orien had groaned in pain.

"!!!"

Fear took over before anything else could. Liam turned at once and ran, his small feet pounding against the pavement as he rushed toward him.

Safe to say, it was a pivot that felt like forever.

His usually warm eyes widened just as he was about to reach Orien.

Someone appeared out of thin air.

A cloaked figure floated a short distance away, already mid-motion.

Unbeknownst to everyone, the dragonling was just about to meet an acquaintance.

Tavos.

The attendant twisted in the air, clearly aiming to land a flying kick straight at Orien.

It was something that he should’ve been able to avoid in most cases.

But the dragonling—

He was already clutching his abdomen, his face pale, barely holding himself up.

There was no way he could block.

No way he could react in time.

Liam saw everything slow down.

He was too far.

He wouldn’t make it.

His hand shot forward anyway, reaching for Orien, for the attacker.

"—!"

The sound that came out of him was more panic than anything else.

But as if responding to his outburst, the barrier responded.

It surged outward.

A violent gust burst from him, releasing a bit of what it had absorbed. The force slammed into both of them without warning.

Orien was thrown back, dragged across the ground.

Tavos was sent flying in the opposite direction, crashing hard against a pole.

Liam staggered, his chest heaving as he tried to understand what had just happened.

But he didn’t even get a brief reprieve.

"Look out!"

Orien’s voice cut through everything.

The little sprite looked up.

The red dragon had drawn in another breath, its chest swelling as heat gathered once more. The air around it shimmered with the coming attack.

There wouldn’t be enough left to stop it.

For a moment, everything felt too loud. Too fast.

And then—

Liam, in absolute distress, screamed:

"STOOOOP!"

It was definitely child-like.

But it sounded more like a roar than a simple tantrum.

Everything stilled—including the red dragon, its flames dying in its throat as its body locked in place mid-motion.

"..."

"..."