The Red Dragon Just Wants To Do As It Pleases-Chapter 43 - 42: Old Profession

"Can this even hatch?"

David immediately narrowed his eyes in disbelief. He picked out the white Dragon Egg with a crack in it from the others, lifted it, and delicately tapped the eggshell with the tip of his claw.

TING TING.

...CLANG CLANG.

A hesitant response came from within.

TING TING.

David tapped again.

...CLANG CLANG.

It seemed the creature inside the shell was mustering some courage.

But David had lost his patience.

"If you’re not dead, then get the hell out! What are you, knocking for your mother in there?"

The muscles under the scales of the Red Dragon’s right forelimb bulged, and he delivered a sharp rap to the egg.

CRACK.

A third of the eggshell shattered along the crack and flew off.

Revealing pure eyes that seemed untouched by knowledge, and the utterly bewildered face of the White Hatchling Dragon.

Instinctively, he blurted out his True Name in the Draconic tongue, "Sabuhaxishi Mofei Lashid Zulgifili..."

But looking at the enraged Red Dragon before him, whose patience had clearly run out, his voice grew fainter and fainter until he managed a placating smile and greeted, "W-Win... Happy Summer Day... Mommy..."

He was pretending to be a Red Dragon baby.

A grim smile touched David’s lips. "Who the hell are you calling Mom?"

"...Then... Daddy?" Mofei’s smile became even more humble, and a single, glistening droplet welled in the corner of his eye and simultaneously escaped his cloaca.

"What???" David, still holding half of the eggshell, slammed it upside down onto the beach.

"You’re a White Dragon! Where do you get the audacity to call me Daddy?"

ARROGANCE

WRATH

The entire beach instantly fell silent.

Faced with the wrathful and brutal Red Dragon, none of the hundreds of Elves dared to utter a sound.

It was the Drow standing nearby, Hiatt, worried that David wouldn’t recognize the hatchling’s true value, who whispered a reminder, "Master, a White Dragon is still a Dragon. If you truly don’t want him, you could also..."

What she left unsaid was that this was a True Dragon who had announced his True Name. The value of this single hatchling likely matched that of all the dead eggs on the ship.

"Hmm... indeed, that’s true. After all, a White Dragon is one of the Chromatic Dragons, ha ha."

I almost forgot about that, David thought, rubbing the scales on his knee and revealing a gentle smile.

Yet, this unexpected surprise suddenly gave David a headache.

Of course, I know what Hiatt means. If I don’t like the White Hatchling Dragon’s combat capabilities, I could easily sell him along with the dead eggs on this ship. But in my past life, I hated human traffickers the most. Now that I’m reincarnated as a dragon, even a naturally evil Red Dragon, I still can’t bring myself to do something so against my conscience. Even if I could deceive myself—and other dragons—with the excuse of ’finding good homes for these hatchlings,’ not all buyers would value dragons as mounts or for breeding, like those Elves do.

After all, not everyone possessed the wealth, energy, or time to raise a hatchling into a fully grown dragon, especially humans, whose lifespans were less than a century.

They’d maximize a hatchling’s value for the highest short-term profit; otherwise, where do all those low-end ’Dragon’s [Something]’ products on the market come from? Even setting aside how repugnant the idea is to me, if any dragon truly dared to commit such an outrageous act—selling its own kind to another race for live dissection—once word got out, it would immediately become the public enemy of all Dragons. Not even Tiamat, the leader of the largest mercenary group in Barto Hell, would risk that when granting the Dragon God’s blessings.

But if I don’t sell him, am I, a Red Dragon, supposed to raise a White Dragon like some Dragon Mother? Tania and I are still just hatchlings ourselves!

Just the thought of that stupid thing calling him ’Daddy’ and following him around all day made David feel like the ’Wrath’ trait was about to flare up again.

Perhaps sensing David’s thoughts, the Drow, Hiatt, quickly changed her tune and, trying to ease his worries, said with a smile, "Actually, Master, you don’t need to worry about raising the White Hatchling Dragon. You can entrust him to us, or, when I leave, to my younger brother, Kraidian."

"Oh?" David was immediately skeptical.

Raising him isn’t the issue. Dragons are arguably the easiest species in the Multiverse to keep alive; they can survive on dirt. But *nurturing* him, that’s a headache as big as a dragon’s head. Without the absolute authority of a mother dragon, these energetic things, like perpetual motion machines, would instantly turn into dragon-brats that even Kobolds wouldn’t tolerate. Especially a White Dragon, which is comparable to a Husky but far more destructive.

David could already picture his Dragon Nest collapsing while he was in deep slumber—a White Dragon, with its love for digging, would probably turn his lair into a maze of tunnels, like honeycomb cheese.

At this, Kraidian, standing nearby, mustered his courage, stepped forward, and volunteered to the Red Dragon, "Respected Master, Kraidian, former Dragon Nursing Technician from Spider Nest City, reporting for duty."

"If you would trust Kraidian, within fifty years I can present you with a fully trained White Dragon warrior. I stake my life on it."

"Spider Nest City’s Dragon Nursing Technician?" David mulled over this rather peculiar-sounding title. For some reason, I feel like I’ve heard that somewhere before.

"Yes! It is a profession created by the ancestors of our Hiatt family line. Passed down to my sister and me, we are the seventeenth generation of Drow. In nurturing Chromatic Dragons, we are professionals. Master, you can entrust this entirely to Kraidian."

... David finally remembered where that impression came from. My ancestor, the one who was stolen and raised by Drow... And thanks to that ancestor’s tireless contributions—like a breeding stallion—Kraidian’s ancestor even wrote ’Postpartum Care and Mental Health Management for Mother Dragons’ and ’Manual for Rearing Dragonlings - Love and Whipping.’ Both books caused a sensation in Elven society and Dragon circles back then... I have to admit, judging by their resume and experience with dragons... This Drow family isn’t just professional; they’re practically titans of dragon rearing! No wonder a branch of a Drow family managed to survive for so many generations...

His worries dispelled, David felt a surge of relief. He flicked open the remaining piece of eggshell, used his claws to drag Mofei, the White Hatchling Dragon who was playing dead in the sand, out, and unceremoniously stuffed him into Kraidian’s already somewhat burdened arms. He then patted Kraidian’s thin shoulder with the tip of his tail.

"Very well. From today on, you are the Chief Dragon Nursing Technician of my Red Dragon’s Lair."

As he spoke, David’s gaze fell upon Mofei, the White Hatchling Dragon, who, covered in sand, had looked utterly bewildered from start to finish, and said, "Stop playing dead. Come and meet your new mama."

Kraidian didn’t object to his master’s ’new title.’ Instead, a charming blush spread across his delicate face. His eyes, though cold, held a gentle smile as he looked at the White Dragon hatchling he was about to raise. "Hello there, little Mofei. What would you like from me—my love, or the whip of love?"

Poor Mofei glanced at Red Dragon David, whose eyes glinted fiercely, then at the overwhelming army of Elves, and threw himself onto Kraidian’s chest, wailing, "Mama! Mofei is a smart and good dragon!"

"If that is your love..."

Tears of gratitude streamed down the White Dragon’s face as he cried out, "Please whip me to your heart’s content!"

"Mofei can take it!"

"Mama loves me!"

"I love Mama!"

"WAAAH!!!"

David exchanged a look with Kraidian, who held his neck slightly raised but wore an expression of utter compliance.

A satisfied smile finally spread across David’s face.

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