Negotiation

The dragon's scales were thick and overlapping, a deep iron-black covered in fine serrated ridges. They resembled rough forged metal, as though cast from steel and iron. Metal protrusions like an exoskeleton guarded her joints, while a row of heavy, shark-fin-like spines ran down her back.

She sat motionless on the raised platform.

Her wings and limbs were not fully extended, and her enormous body was drawn in.

Even so,

An overwhelming pressure rolled off her.

Just imagining the destruction she could unleash in anger was enough to send a chill down anyone's spine.

The dragon watched Garos with black eyes just like his.

She was Garos's mother, Laetitia the Iron Dragon Mother.

"Mother."

The Hatchling Dragon lowered his head in greeting to the dragon on the platform.

The Iron Dragon Mother was thoroughly traditional. She believed in no Dragon God, was lawful evil, and prized efficiency and practicality above all else. She lived by a rigid hierarchy and longed to build a world dominated by Dragonkin and ruled by Iron Dragons. Class mattered deeply to her.

In her eyes, even her own offspring could not overstep their place.

They had to follow her rules and show her respect and awe.

"Garos, my child, born of flame and steel."

The Iron Dragon Mother looked down at Garos and said in a cool, resonant voice, "Six cycles of the moons are enough for a Dragonling to shed its soft scales. Yours are now as hard as iron."

Her voice was like sandpaper scraping an ingot of steel. Every syllable set the metallic particles in the air humming.

Garos nodded, a bad feeling stirring in his heart.

Dragonkin were divided into many age groups.

From one to five years old, they were Dragonlings. During that time, their mothers sheltered them, providing food, protection, and a place to live.

From six to twelve came the Hatchling Stage.

Evil Dragons had little affection for family and scant interest in raising offspring.

Once their offspring reached the Hatchling Stage, Evil Dragons often drove them out to live alone beyond their territory.

Garos had an older brother who had been driven out two years ago. Whether he was alive or dead, no one knew.

Garos had long expected his own turn to come. He just hadn't thought it would happen so soon.

This magical world was not safe. Dragonkin were far from the only supernatural creatures, nor did they have a monopoly on magic. Worse, every part of a dragon's body was a prized material, making them tempting targets.

Adult Dragonkin and older had the strength to protect themselves.

But Hatchling Dragons?

Compared with humans, a Hatchling Dragon was like a small child who had only just learned to stand and still wobbled when walking. Danger lurked everywhere for one left to fend for himself without protection. Survival was hard.

Many offspring of Evil Dragons died before reaching adulthood.

Driving out offspring at the Hatchling Stage struck Garos as utterly unreasonable. No wonder the Dragon Race was gradually declining.

Besides,

He suspected those brutal early struggles for survival were exactly what made so many Evil Dragons violent and vicious as adults.

"When I was your age, my claws and fangs were not as sharp as yours."

The Iron Dragon Mother continued, "Nor were my scales as tough. Yet I had already left my mother's protection and claimed a territory of my own."

At the mention of her territory, her gaze flickered and her voice lost some of its conviction.

That so-called "territory" had been nothing more than a filthy ditch.

The Iron Dragon Mother's face was covered in fine, steel-like scales, and she kept her expression perfectly composed.

Leaning her massive body back slightly, she said, "Garos, you should leave this place and begin a life of your own."

"By dawn tomorrow, your scales should no longer touch the dust of this place."

So she really is driving me out.

What a rotten custom. Just because you got caught in the rain doesn't mean you have to tear up someone else's umbrella, Mother!

Garos's heart sank at her words.

At the same time, two stifled chuckles came from behind him.

Red Dragon Sister and Iron Dragon Brother (Gordon), who had just arrived, were both five-year-old Dragonlings. They watched Garos with gloating eyes, their tails swishing happily behind them.

True to their Evil Dragon nature, they often provoked Garos and got beaten soundly for it every time.

They were both eager to see him driven out.

Those two idiots. Don't they realize they'll be in my place a year from now?

Garos shook his head slightly. He couldn't be bothered arguing with fools.

The two Dragonlings cared only about the present. Neither had given a thought to what came next.

Garos raised his lowered head and looked at the Iron Dragon Mother. "Mother, I'd like to remain in your territory a while longer. I'm not ready to leave."

The Iron Dragon Mother spread one wing, and its shadow swallowed half the lair.

"No," she said flatly.

Garos had anticipated this. With a sigh, he said, "I'd intended to trade treasure for food and protection. But if your mind is made up, forget it."

As soon as he finished speaking, Garos shook his head and turned to leave.

Treasure?

The Iron Dragon Mother's pupils narrowed to slits.

"My dear Garos, wait!"

No ordinary dragon could resist treasure.

Garos knew that well. Treasure was a weakness for nearly every dragon, and the Iron Dragon Mother was no exception.

Traditional to a fault, she believed a six-year-old Hatchling Dragon should live independently. But there were exceptions to everything. She was also a pragmatist. If Garos could bring her treasure, she wouldn't mind keeping him around.

Her hard expression softened considerably.

In a gentler tone, the Iron Dragon Mother asked, "Where did you get treasure? And how much are you willing to pay for food and protection?"

Garos drew his limbs together and sat upright. Looking up at the enormous Iron Dragon, he answered calmly, "I have a keen sense for minerals, especially precious metal ores. I can detect those quite clearly."

"I can guarantee you at least three pieces of precious metal ore weighing more than ten pounds each month."

"In return, you'll provide me with protection and the same high-quality fresh meat as before."

The fresh meat the Iron Dragon Mother provided came from powerful magical beasts Garos could not yet hunt on his own.

And he needed it. His Adaptive Evolution talent could not create something from nothing; he needed enough energy to sustain the process.

The Iron Dragon Mother nodded slightly at his words.

Reasonable.

Iron Dragons did have a talent for sensing metal ores, though it rarely appeared in Hatchling Dragons.

"You're willing to mine?"

Dragonkin were proud by nature. Mining was work for servants and slaves, not something dragons generally stooped to doing themselves.

Now that treasure was on the table, the Iron Dragon Mother turned calculating. "If you want to use my servants to mine for you, that will cost extra. We can discuss the amount based on the levels of the servants you need."

By levels, she meant biological levels.

They were the most straightforward measure of an individual's strength. Garos was currently level 7, putting him on par with Gold Dragons of the same age, if not ahead of an average one.

Under normal circumstances, both Red Dragons and Iron Dragons were weaker than Gold Dragons at the same age.

A six-year-old White Dragon of the Chromatic Dragons, for instance, averaged only around level 3.

"No need. I have two mining slaves I can command. With me personally keeping them in line, they should work efficiently."

Garos declined the Iron Dragon Mother's offer.

Two mining slaves? Red Dragon Sister and Iron Dragon Brother (Gordon) looked surprised.

"When did Garos get two mining slaves?" Red Dragon Sister whispered to Iron Dragon Brother (Gordon).

"I don't know either."

Iron Dragon Brother (Gordon) shook his head, his eyes clear.

The two Dragonlings stared at each other and racked their brains, but neither could figure out where Garos had found two mining slaves.