Winter

Snow drifted down from the sky, the thickly falling flakes descending slowly along the curves of the mountain. The withered yellow grass stalks gradually took on a coat of white, and the ground looked as though it had been sprinkled with finely crushed ice.

More than a month had passed since he last subdued the Boarfolk.

Thanks to this free labor-the Boarfolk were generally strong and sturdy, with good stamina-the cave where the three wyrmlings lived had grown larger.

Sol had grown another half foot and was now nearly twelve feet long. He lay on a pebble-covered platform in the cave, and with every breath, hot vapor streamed more than a foot from his nostrils.

As a red dragon, he hated the cold to his very core. The wind and snow outside left him with no desire to venture out.

But as long as a living creature was alive, it had to draw energy from the outside world.

Even gods needed to absorb faith; true dragons could live entirely on absorbed magical elements only after reaching a certain level of strength.

As a wyrmling, Sol naturally had to eat. Otherwise, even if he didn't starve to death over the winter, his growth and development would be severely affected.

He needed to eat, but didn't want to move. What was he to do?

Sol's half-lidded eyes snapped open, and his gaze turned toward his two so-called blood relatives.

The Boarfolk were certainly no help. At a time like this, when food was scarce, they couldn't even feed themselves and were surviving entirely on the fat they'd stored up during autumn.

If he wanted them to hunt to feed him, it would be easier to just eat them instead.

But Xisitana and Kalpu were different. They were true dragons, after all. Even if they were still young, they ought to be capable of hunting simple prey.

He had to find a way to make them willingly bring their prey right to his mouth.

If he relied solely on force, they would surely obey him to his face while defying him behind his back. Then they could lie and claim they hadn't caught anything, and he couldn't possibly keep an eye on them every moment.

Sol's eyes darted about, and a moment later, a smug smile curled the corners of his mouth.

He exchanged for a Dragonvein Crystal as usual, then, after a moment's thought, stuffed it into his mouth and took a hard bite. Holding up the smaller half that remained, he growled softly.

"My foolish younger brother and sister, your elder brother-the great Sol, future master of this wilderness-has decided to show you great mercy and give you a chance to make a fortune.

"Over the next ten days, each of you will bring me prey. Whoever brings back more gets this magic crystal!"

The two wyrmlings, who had been lying on the ground dozing out of boredom, instantly raised their heads. They stared at the Dragonvein Crystal in Sol's claw, their eyes sparkling.

But then, as if something had occurred to them, they said warily,

"Dammit, you're not going to make us eat it again, are you?"

"If that's what you want, we're not doing it, no matter what. You can forget about it!"

Sol calmly shook his head.

"No! No! No! This time, the magic crystal will be yours to do with as you please. Whether you eat it or keep it in your hoard, it's fine."

The two wyrmlings looked torn. Neither wanted to go out in the cold, but when they thought of treasure...

In the end, Xisitana was the first to make up her mind.

She kicked Kalpu aside and flapped her wings, rushing out of the cave.

"No problem. I'll go first today. You'd better keep your word!"

Watching the crimson figure disappear into the wind and snow, Sol swished his tail contentedly. Then he looked at Kalpu, who had stayed in the cave, and said temptingly,

"If Xisitana gets lucky today and catches something big, it'll be hard for you to beat her tomorrow.

"Why not start working at it today? Go catch some prey and save it up, then give it to me along with what you catch tomorrow.

"That way, you'll have a better chance of winning and getting this shiny magic crystal."

As he spoke, he waved the Dragonvein Crystal in his claw. Kalpu's gaze followed it, and he swallowed hard before turning and rushing out of the cave as well.

The entire cave fell quiet in an instant, with only a few lightly spoken words echoing through it.

"Two idiots."

The wilderness's harsh winter didn't last very long, at least as far as Sol was concerned.

After paying out a few small pieces of Dragonvein Crystal, he slept comfortably until spring, fed by Xisitana and Kalpu.

When the first warm breeze of early spring blew, the snow that had accumulated over the winter began to melt. Water seeped into the ground, and grasses and trees competed to put out tender new shoots.

Sol crawled out of the cave and stretched contentedly. His joints and scales knocked against one another with a crisp series of cracks.

The pure life force from the Mernos Template and the Stinktoad Template had gradually begun to take effect. With the Dragonvein Crystals replenishing his energy as well, his body had grown noticeably again, and he was now thirteen feet long.

The wings on his back were especially large. Spread wide, they reached an astonishing twenty feet across.

Even without relying on his innate spell-like abilities, the thrust generated by beating his wings alone would probably have been enough to carry him into flight.

After so long at rest, he felt the urge to move and decided to go hunting for the first time in a while. With a beat of his wings, he leaped into the sky and flew outward in circles.

As he passed the gentle slope where the Boarfolk lived, Sol took a moment to look at his dependents.

After a winter, there were a few fewer of them. He didn't know whether they had frozen to death or died while out foraging.

That was the norm for many creatures in the wilderness: born in spring and dead in winter, like wild grass. Only truly powerful individuals and races could make it through one harsh winter after another with ease.

That was also why, despite being as fertile as real wild boars, the Boarfolk population had always remained small.

Things couldn't go on like this. When he subdued them, they had already lost too many of the young and prime-age males who made up their main force. If he didn't intervene, their numbers would probably not only fail to recover but decline sharply.

Sol began to consider whether there was any way to increase the Boarfolk's numbers.

The simplest way would be to hunt for them himself. As long as they had enough food, these fellows' fertility would soon cause their numbers to grow exponentially.

But the arrogance in his red dragon blood made him dismiss the idea as soon as it occurred to him.

Then perhaps he could teach them some simple animal husbandry or farming techniques?

But with the Boarfolk's seven points of intelligence, could they learn? And where was he supposed to find suitable livestock and crop seeds?

Unable to think of a solution for the moment, Sol decided to stop racking his brains and fill his stomach first.

Over the past half year or so, he had thoroughly familiarized himself with this region of low hills.

Since he had never seen any particularly dangerous ferocious creatures or birds of prey, he intended to extend his hunting range a little farther this time.

He flew over the hills, only to see more boundless open wilderness stretching before him.

After the snow melted, the soil was saturated with moisture and had turned a fertile dark brown. Countless green blades of grass were already visible.

A marmot cautiously poked its head out of the ground. Not far away, a rabbit hole lay hidden beneath a dense thicket of thorns.

None of it escaped Sol's sharp eyes, but he had long since lost interest in such small creatures.

What truly drew his attention was the moving "hill" in the distance.