Getting familiar

"Tsk, tsk, what exactly have you got in that little belly? How can you eat so much?" Redd murmured to himself, his tone a little helpless, yet indulgent.

King Ghidorah drew its necks back at the poking, its three little heads turning in unison to stare warily at Redd.

But Redd's fingers did not stop. Instead, he rubbed and kneaded even more gently.

Perhaps it had grown familiar with Redd's scent and movements, for King Ghidorah did not resist for long.

It wriggled its little body, each of its three tiny dragon heads finding a "target" and biting precisely onto Redd's finger, wrist, and the back of his hand.

Redd started and instinctively tried to pull his hand away, but King Ghidorah only gave him light, token bites,

its teeth exerting no real force. It was more like an exploratory "shove," with a hint of temper and a hint of affectionate petulance.

The sensation was ticklish and tingly rather than painful, and actually felt rather funny.

"All right, all right, I know you're hungry." Redd smiled and drew his hand back, letting it keep biting.

King Ghidorah seemed quite satisfied with this "game." It let go and made soft, rumbling sounds in its throat.

Redd did not rush to put it on the ground. Instead, he gently lifted it and supported it in his palm.

King Ghidorah wriggled in his palm, seemingly not averse to being held up like this.

Redd looked at its three dainty little heads, its golden scales gleaming softly in the dim light of the cave,

and the anxiety he felt over his inadequate food reserves seemed to ease a little.

He released it, but King Ghidorah did not flutter away.

Instead, as soon as it was released, it adjusted its posture and rapidly beat its disproportionately large wings, flying lightly to the top of Redd's head.

Then, without hesitation, it spread its leathery wings and settled firmly on his head, like a giant golden butterfly alighting, or an ornate, heavy hat.

Redd felt a sudden weight on his head, and the golden wings partly blocked his vision, though not by much.

The three tiny heads drooped down with the movement and rested against his forehead, warm and carrying a strange softness.

King Ghidorah shifted its position on his head, then soon began snoring softly as it fell into a deep sleep.

This spot was clearly comfortable and safe for it.

Redd adjusted to the "heavy burden" on his head. Aside from feeling that he needed to be more careful when walking,

so as not to bump into low parts of the cave ceiling, and having his vision obstructed, he felt no discomfort.

Instead, the warmth from those three little heads replaced the faint anxiety the food shortage had stirred in his heart with a strange tranquility.

He shook his head and smiled, letting the little fellow sleep peacefully on his head.

King Ghidorah's steady breathing came from above, as though it were singing him a lullaby.

Redd stood where he was and let his thoughts drift.

He could not help thinking of Old Dragon in the Valley Dragonpit, that ancient creature that was likewise trapped by a curse, yet had tenaciously survived.

Its eyes were full of wisdom and the weariness of ages, along with deep helplessness toward the curse.

A thought suddenly arose in Redd's mind, growing ever clearer: Should I go see if I can help Old Dragon tomorrow?

Since my blood worked on Ehm's curse, perhaps it would work on Old Dragon too?

If I could lift its curse, or even... if I could tame it, what a powerful ally it would be!

The thought made Redd's heart beat faster despite himself. Tame Old Dragon?

It sounded almost impossible. After all, even the system had shown no information about him last time.

He looked at the sleeping golden little fellow on his head, then thought of Ehm, restored to health,

and then of the practical predicament of having only two days' food left... Perhaps this was a chance worth taking a risk for.

Redd drew a deep breath and decided to keep the idea in mind.

Tomorrow, he needed to plan carefully how to communicate with Old Dragon, and how to try helping it with his blood, provided he could tame it.

This might give him the greatest source of help he had obtained so far apart from King Ghidorah, and he was already working out tomorrow's actions in his mind.

Redd raised his eyes to the sky. The enormous setting sun was slowly sinking, dyeing the clouds along the horizon brilliant shades of orange-red and golden purple.

The sunset's lingering glow shone through the Dragonpit's entrance, casting dappled light and shadow on the ground. There was little time left, only a little over two hours before night fell completely.

He keenly recognized this opportunity, and an idea stirred within him.

Rather than sit waiting for night to bring unknown dangers, he might as well use this last stretch of daylight to familiarize himself with the new power inside him.

Redd took a deep breath, feeling as though even the air had grown fresher.

Although this body still looked like that of a boy in his teens, slight and even somewhat immature,

everything had changed after it received the boost from King Ghidorah's mysterious, formidable power.

He could even feel the blood in his body seeming to flow more forcefully, every breath carrying an unprecedented sense of fullness.

Redd walked to a corner and picked up a heavy shield he had used for practice before.

The shield was half his height, its edges polished reasonably smooth, but its material was hard and it had considerable weight.

In the past, he could barely lift it with both hands. It felt incredibly cumbersome in his grip and made moving especially strenuous.

Now, however, he tried taking the shield's grip with one hand. It felt heavy, but no longer awkward in the slightest.

With a flick of his wrist, the shield turned as nimbly as an extension of his own arm. He could even move easily into blocking positions, producing crisp clangs.

It felt as though the shield had become half as heavy-or he himself had become twice as strong!

Next, he drew a practice longsword.

This sword had witnessed his struggles even earlier than the shield. Swinging it had often left the web of his hand numb and him gasping for breath.

Now, however, Redd felt that the strain of swinging the sword had vanished without a trace.

He casually twirled it, the blade tracing a smooth arc through the air, and could even feel a faint gust.

He tried chopping forcefully at the air, and even the resulting rush of wind sounded much louder than before.

"To think King Ghidorah is already this strong when it only hatched a short while ago."

Redd marveled inwardly. No wonder the legends say that once it grows up, it can become the ruler who unites the Monster World, the undisputed King of the Monsters.

An even bolder, crazier thought bubbled up in his mind:

In the future, once my body fully adapts to King Ghidorah's power, and can even wield the power of an adult King Ghidorah... wouldn't that give me abilities on par with Superman?

Hmm, I wonder which of us would be stronger then, me or the real Superman? After all... we haven't fought yet, so it's hard to say.