Just as Nidhogg opened his mouth, Elder Byron anticipated his thoughts: “Don’t even try to improvise. This concerns your son’s entire life.”

Silver Ice Dragon’s thoughts were clear, no half-measures.

Nidhogg immediately fell silent, raising his hand guiltily. With the padded back of his claw—gentle enough for a child’s skin—he softly stroked the little one’s head. The child, with fluffy, slightly curly white hair, had been hiding behind the giant dragon, secretly observing the suddenly appearing silver dragon to determine friend or foe. Now, feeling a weight on his head, he could only lift his gaze toward Mr. Dragon and utter a puzzled, “Hm?”

Elder Byron’s gaze followed Nidhogg’s, landing on the young cub still well-hidden and protected behind him.

The little one’s cheeks were plump, and eyes as large and bright as molten sunset gold met his gaze without fear. Instead, the child boldly peeked out from behind the dragon father’s neck, examining him with obvious curiosity.

This perfectly struck Elder Byron’s aesthetic sensibilities—he adored such vibrant, lively, and healthy-looking young ones.

The silver ice dragon, once hailed on the battlefield as the Dawn Dragon, gathered its magnificent wing membranes. They hung at its sides like a precious silk cloak, shimmering with iridescent light in the sunlight. As it dipped its head slightly, the intricate, magnificent shadows of its antler-like horns stretched across the ground, coaxing the little one to inch its body forward a bit more.

Then, the stingy black dragon promptly stomped on the Grand Elder’s prized silver tail.

With a pained “Aaargh!”, Byron winced repeatedly, immediately rolling up his sleeves to retaliate. Yet, he ultimately couldn’t follow through because… he couldn’t win.

Elder Byron was only a few hundred years older than Nidhogg. As dragons of the same generation, they had fought since childhood, yet he had never once defeated his opponent—a true case of overwhelming superiority.

The wise dragon, unwilling to court trouble, could only return to the original topic.

Before arriving at Helheim’s Tooth to find Nidhogg and his son, he had already pieced together most of what had transpired among the ancient dragons recently. Not everything, of course, but at least he knew Nidhogg had been unexpectedly roused from slumber—and remarkably, hadn’t set the entire Chaos Abyss ablaze in a fit of morning rage.

The commander of the knight order stationed at the edge of the Chaos Abyss nearly wept with gratitude, penning a heartfelt letter to the dragon clan. He thanked Lord Nidhogg for his magnanimity in sparing the Chaos Abyss’s precarious ecosystem from having to rebuild from scratch.

It was also through this outspoken commander that Elder Byron learned Nidhogg hadn’t left the Chaos Abyss alone.

But that detail wasn’t crucial, since they’d parted ways after exiting the Chaos Abyss.

What mattered was that this child—visually resembling a human infant—had remained constantly by Nidhogg’s side. In other words, the child must have been brought out of the Chaos Abyss by him.

Elder Byron had long heard of the Chaos Abyss’s role among the races over the years.

As the barren wasteland born from the former Demon Lord’s destruction of the world, the Chaos Abyss had always been a uniquely peculiar place on the Faris Continent. Much like the ancient demonic serpent Huí, it existed in a superimposed state of both presence and absence. Its distorted spatial force field theoretically anchored it at the center of the Endless Sea, yet in reality, it could connect to any city-state across the Five Realms and Seven Tribes at any moment.

Whatever emerged from the Chaos Abyss would hold no surprise for Byron.

Though he couldn’t fathom why his lifelong childhood companion had suddenly developed a charitable streak, taking in an abandoned child, truth be told, Byron was quite pleased by it.

He was delighted to see Nidhogg finally find an interest beyond slumber and battle.

And he was deeply grateful to the child who had led Nidhogg out of the Chaos Abyss.

But!

“That doesn’t justify you raiding other egg-incubating dragon nests!” Elder Byron completely lost it, roaring at his friend.

How did he find Nidhogg?

Was it because they grew up together and knew each other intimately?

Was it the bond forged fighting side-by-side on the Third Expedition battlefield?

Or was it that after years apart, he’d finally tried to understand the madman’s heart?

Nope. None of the above. It was simply because the aggrieved party had dragged his entire brood to demand justice. The Elder Dragon felt utterly drained. He pointed with his silver claw toward a tiny green speck hiding behind a reef hundreds of meters away—barely visible without a dragon’s keen eyesight.

That was Purle, a green dragon, a Windbinder not particularly strong in power.

He and Nidhogg were roughly the same age, though they weren’t close. All he knew was that Purle had always been a cowardly crybaby since childhood.

Nidhogg curled his lip in disdain. How on earth had a dragon like Purle managed to find a mate willing to lay eggs with him? Were dragons this indiscriminate nowadays?

Purle wailed to Byron: “I was minding my own business incubating the egg at home! This was Alina and my first egg—our child, conceived after fifty years of trying! We even built a temporary nest for it in the Raspberry Cave at the peak of Helheim’s Tooth. You know how young dragons are—they can’t resist the lure of heights…”

“Today was the first day the nest was ready. Alina went hunting, and I was showing our dragon egg around.”

“Then that damned, despicable, bandit-like Nidhogg suddenly appeared in the living room. Taking advantage of our strongest Alina being away, he said, ‘Sorry, I guess I forgot to knock,’ while demanding I hand over the nest now or be killed on the spot! Killed!”

The green dragon cupped his face in his hands, recreating the world-famous painting titled The Scream.

The Dragon Island, where dragons have lived for generations, isn’t actually an island but an archipelago. Every dragon is a creature with an extremely strong sense of territory, requiring at least a mountain range as their private domain. However, dragon populations were scarce now. Even the weakest dragons could claim mountain peaks rich with magic ore.

They typically built their nests atop the highest points where magic was most concentrated. Of course, it had become fashionable lately to construct castles and estates deep within ancient forests, much like the human race. Who wouldn’t want their home to look more impressive?

In any case, these were merely their usual habitats.

During breeding season, they still follow the instincts etched into their genes, gathering in designated breeding grounds for collective reproduction. Much like how Job’s cousin encountered the Elemental Dragon Tiamat’s breeding zone, dragon clans commonly nest and incubate eggs in Helheim’s Tooth. Only after the young dragons hatch and their internal magic cycles stabilize do entire families relocate back to Dragon Island.

For the first home in a young dragon’s life, the elders of the dragon clan always spare no effort to create the perfect nest for their offspring.

Byron replayed the accusing dragon’s testimony in the sky using magic, displaying the evidence against each suspect dragon before asking, “Is that correct?”

The ancient dragon felt no shame, but rather pride: “Yes, isn’t that the old rule? The strongest takes what is theirs.”

Though dragon offspring face hardship, the upbringing of the next generation has always followed the cruel law of survival of the fittest, where the strong reign supreme. All dragons grew up this way. The most formidable young dragon got its first taste of the tenderest bison belly meat. The strongest parents secured the prime spots in the brood nest. Even the position of Head Dragon was earned through brutal, fist-to-fist combat.

Typically, the Head Dragon served as the dragon clan’s Grand Elder. Yet exceptions existed, like Nidhogg and Byron.

Nidhogg dwells perpetually in the Chaos Abyss, slumbering for centuries at a time. Elder Byron has no choice but to grit his teeth and step up, becoming a diligent, hardworking dragon.

The millennia-old second-in-command sighed deeply, unsure how to reason with the head dragon. The rules are what they are, but Dragon Island is no longer the Dragon Island of old.

In the past decade, there had been few young dragon families. With vast lands and sparse dragons in Helheim, why limit themselves to one spot?

Must they insist on the other’s nest?

Not exactly, Nidhogg shook his head. “You’re right. I’ve already returned the nest to him.”

Purle finally couldn’t hold back, shrieking in the background: “Yes, he despises it! How dare he reject the nest I painstakingly built? It’s filled with centuries of Alina’s hard-scraped treasures! The walls are infused with potions to soothe the young ones, the floor is piled with gold, silver, and gems, and there’s even a natural magic ore hot spring!”

This dragon couple truly adored their unborn child.

Elder Byron was dumbfounded. “So, you sought my justice not because someone stole your home and dragon eggs, but because they disliked your interior design?”

Purle screamed hoarsely in defense: “Yes! Is there no dragon law left? Showing up at someone’s home out of nowhere to criticize their taste? Does he think his own taste is superior? He’s spent his whole life burrowing into a Chaos Abyss—how is that beneficial for a youngling’s development? He must apologize for insulting my nest and admit mine is beautiful!”

Byron: “…”

“And your bright red and green decor is somehow beneficial for a youngling’s development?” Nidhogg crossed his arms, genuinely disgusted by Purle’s home. He’d initially been quite pleased with the elevated location, but the moment he saw the interior, it nearly blinded his dragon eyes. He couldn’t stand it one bit.

The dragon still remembered the warning from the human Job: protect a child’s eyes, for they are extremely fragile. Speaking of eyes, the dragon immediately felt a surge of pride, eager to show his old friend that his son’s eyes were identical to his own.

Wait, where was his son?

Where was his big son?!

The little one had already dashed to the green wind dragon and, for the third time, asked with unwavering persistence, “Hello, do you need any help?”

Ai Ai was still stubbornly trying to accept the quest.

Though he still hadn’t figured out what accepting quests would get him, having his routine disrupted left the little one feeling just a tiny bit troubled. He’d originally intended to ask the silver dragon that appeared first, but now he was teamed up with Mr. Dragon. He figured the other dragon would surely communicate this matter to the silver dragon. Even though he hadn’t understood it, the little one didn’t think he should just reap the benefits without contributing.

So, upon spotting the green dragon behind the reef, the little one set off. He moved rather slowly across the sandy beach, partly because the soft ground was unfamiliar territory. Each step sank unevenly, forcing the cautious child to tread carefully to avoid falling. But another reason…

…was that the little one had to resist all sorts of temptations.

Wave after wave of crystal-clear seawater, an array of beautiful shells, and seabirds occasionally skimming the surface—all of this was utterly novel to the child, who had spent years confined to a sterile hospital room, his only window to the outside world being holographic games. It took immense willpower for him not to be swayed by these temptations and change his mind midway. With great effort, he made his way to the green dragon.

The child tilted his head back, trying to figure out what he could do for the dragon’s team.

Unfortunately, the green dragon couldn’t understand a word he was saying. It simply assumed the child had come all this way to apologize for his father. A thunderous roar erupted from its throat, directed at the child who had only just steadied himself.

This instantly triggered the dragon father, who teleported over, ready to fight to the death.

But before Nidhogg could strike, the timid green wyvern had already transformed into a green-haired human husband. Cautiously guarding his precious dragon egg, he crouched down and began wailing at the child: “Waaah, you’re clearly a good kid, but your daddy really bullied this dragon too much!”

The child looked utterly bewildered. Wh-why was he suddenly crying?

Nidhogg: “…What are Alina’s mate selection criteria? Stupidity?”

Byron: “You know Alina. She’s a thunder dragon. She’s always loved challenging the impossible since she was little.”