Home/The very suspicious chick of the Blue Dragon clan/ch 3

Chapter 3

"Ugh, this is exhausting. Out of this whole vast palace, I'm the only one—Cheong Hwi—who can understand beast-speech."

Cheong Hwi! Did he say Cheong Hwi?!

Upon hearing a familiar name, realization struck her mind like lightning.

Cheong Hwi, the Lord of the Eastern Quarter!

He was a Blue Dragon memorable enough for Aran to recall clearly, which meant that Aran's return to a hundred years ago was now confirmed.

So the one who could speak beast-speech was this guy?

"Gulp!"

(...)

Faced with the undeniable reality, Aran clamped her beak shut instead.

Her tiny brain, no bigger than a cherry inside a chestnut-sized head, whirred frantically.

Great achievements take time.

Like the saying that a large vessel takes long to complete, Aran had been born weak but grew into a magnificent Vermilion Bird.

She had flown later than others but soared higher than anyone; abandoned by the Vermilion Bird clan in her earliest days, yet lived a life more precious than any other Vermilion Bird.

Along her grand life's journey, she had been fortunate enough to obtain the elixir of immortality and the herb of eternal youth, and had even been granted the chance to ascend to the celestial realm.

Beneath the wide-open heavenly gates, she heard the voice of the divine.

—Ran-ah, you have done enough. Come now to the celestial realm.

But at that time, her young disciples were by her side.

Those children she had picked up and raised from all corners of the continent had no home to return to, and Aran could not bring herself to turn her back on them.

In the end, the radiant heavenly gates closed once more.

As time passed, her disciples, now grown, left her side one by one.

When the last remaining disciple died of illness, Aran was deeply heartbroken.

So she severed her ties with the mortal world and retreated deep into the mountains to cultivate in solitude.

How many years passed?

One night, she awoke to the howling wind and found the entire world ablaze.

How had such a great calamity occurred overnight? No matter how great a Vermilion Bird she was, she could not quell those flames alone.

Aran regretted it bitterly.

She should have ascended back then.

So she wouldn't have to see her most beloved disciple die, nor the world turn to ashes.

She should have just ascended then, she thought.

Immediately, the divine voice spoke again.

—If I give you another chance, will you come to the celestial realm?

Aran was alone, and the world was ruined. There was no reason to refuse.

So she nodded vigorously.

If another chance came, she would ascend.

But who would have thought that chance would only come after living another hundred years…

That swindler of a Black Tortoise god.

She'd wondered from the start why that fellow—not even a Vermilion Bird deity—had appeared.

As she nursed her resentment, Aran shook her head.

Even if it was a scam, what could she do?

If she hadn't nodded then, she would have ended up as roasted Vermilion Bird anyway.

For a great Vermilion Bird beastman with fire resistance to meet such an end—how utterly absurd.

Meanwhile, the young master of the Cheong clan, who had been quietly watching the chick, tilted his head in puzzlement.

"By the way, you. Didn't you just say, 'My dear Okdan… I hope you're well…'?"

What?

He heard from that far back?

Aran flinched in surprise.

Never once in her previous life had she experienced a period as cozy as the past week.

It was her first true rest in a hundred years.

What now? Would they kick her out immediately, finding a hundred-year-old Vermilion Bird disgusting?

She couldn't be abandoned like this…!

Being sent back to the Vermilion Bird Palace was worse than falling into the underworld…!

Right, before it's too late, she'd deny knowing anyone like Okdan!

Sorry, Okdan…!

But just as Aran was about to open her beak…

"Wait, no—though I don't think there's anyone named Okdan in our palace."

For some reason, Hwi had conveniently reached the wrong conclusion on his own.

"Ugh, look at me. If you're going to mistake things, at least make it plausible."

As Aran patted her startled chest, Hwi continued berating himself.

"'I hope you're well'—what baby talks like that! Even my late grandmother, who passed away last year, spoke more elegantly than that."

Excuse me? What's wrong with my way of speaking!

Though relieved, she was also deeply indignant.

Hwi stepped a little closer to Aran, who was trembling in her tiny body.

"Anyway, what are we going to do about this? Father seems to want to make you the youngest of our family."

What? That great dragon had such a wonderful plan?

The Eastern Blue Dragon clan, who treasured even a single blade of grass—they wanted to raise her?

This body is all for it!

Even so, Aran curled up as the chill crept in.

Seeing the baby bird suddenly curl up like a frightened squirrel, Hwi hesitated.

"What's wrong? Are you scared of me?"

Scared?

A hundred-year-old Vermilion Bird beastman afraid of some teenage Blue Dragon? Preposterous.

But this was her second life.

Having been through fire, water, air, and even fantasy battles, Aran was, so to speak, a survival expert.

She tilted her head sideways, shifting her stance as abruptly as a spring whirlwind.

"Pwing…"

(Mama…)

---

"Good heavens…"

Cheong Hwi, for all his tall stature, was just a fifteen-year-old boy. A boy who had lost his mother only a month ago.

With heavy shoulders and no time to mourn freely, the eldest son of the Blue Dragon clan found the lonely little chick pitiful beyond measure.

Hwi reached out and covered the chick without thinking.

"Little one, do you miss your mother?"

"Pit, peeet…"

(Mama, Mama…)

The baby bird rubbed its head against Hwi's palm as if seeking warmth.

Perhaps that tilted her center of gravity.

Teeter-

The chick slid across Hwi's palm and rolled about half a turn.

"Hahaha, oh my…"

Hwi laughed, his eyes brimming with tears.

"Little one, you know… I miss my mother terribly too."

He gently adjusted the chick, settling it securely in his palm.

Looking down, it was just a tiny bird.

Its body, smaller than his own palm, was covered only in soft fluff like willow cotton, and its seed-like eyes were pitch-black—completely different from the Vermilion Bird he'd heard rumors about.

Of course, he trusted his father's judgment, but if the chick wasn't a Vermilion Bird, that would be all the better.

Hwi continued, his eyes tender with sorrow.

"All right then, let's go to your mother."

Go to my mother?

Huh? I had a mother?

Here, in the Blue Dragon Palace?

Aran tilted her head in hopeful expectation, only to soon discover a staggering fact.

In her second life, she had a large, bluish, male mother…

---

That same night.

Cheong Su-ryeon, the second child of the Blue Dragon clan, sought out the training grounds bathed in faint moonlight.

It was the only way to relieve his pent-up frustration.

Shing.

As he drew his sword, the honed blade reflected the pale moonlight, gleaming a cold blue.

"Hahp!"

With a shout, he slashed downward.

As the cold blade cut through the air, the conversation he'd had with his father a few days ago resurfaced in his mind.

“…What do you mean by this bird?”

“The youngest. I have declared her our family’s fifth child.”

His father, having made such an absurd proclamation, had—cowardly—added a reason Su-ryeon could never refute in his wildest dreams.

“Su-ryeon, you know as well as I do what I promised your mother.”

To invoke Mother’s dying words there—how utterly unfair.

Su-ryeon was the only one in the family who had not been at his mother's deathbed.

And his father knew full well how heartbroken and regretful he was about that…!

Shwoosh—!

Once more, the long sword sliced sharply through the air, and the wind howled.

It was because of the ability Su-ryeon had inherited.

The most important power of the Blue Dragon clan—wind and rain.

So before this precious ability caused trouble for innocent people, he needed to calm his heart quickly, but…

“She asked that the children of the nest be raised equally. That no one be discriminated against, no matter how weak or powerless. That was your mother’s dying wish.”

Utter nonsense…!

Mother had suffered from childbed fever and lain ill for an entire month.

Could she possibly have known that another bird's egg had been mixed into the nest?

Would she truly have left such a will knowing that?

Su-ryeon thought not.

And yet he had waited.

He had believed that when his brother returned, they could persuade their father together.

His older brother, Cheong Hwi, just two years his senior, had been entrusted with important missions since childhood thanks to his beast-speech ability, and thus enjoyed great favor from their father.

But what was this?

The moment he returned, his brother had gone to see the bird—and then delivered it straight to their father…!

Plip, plop.

As raindrops began to fall, Su-ryeon panted and lowered his sword.

But his grip on the hilt remained tense with anger.

He couldn't stand it—he resented his father and blamed his brother.

A pitiful little bird?

So what?

Were they going to adopt every pitiful beastman on the continent as their youngest?

Patter-patter!

The raindrops only grew heavier, pouring down.

“…Pull yourself together, Cheong Su-ryeon.”

At this rate, coming to the training grounds was pointless.

Su-ryeon took a deep breath and sheathed his sword.

He gritted his teeth to hold back the tears threatening to spill out like a fool.

A thirteen-year-old boy who had just lost his mother could hardly be expected to sympathize with another's misfortune.

The wounded boy ultimately made his own decision—no matter what his father or brother said, he had only two younger siblings.

That was true now, and since Mother was gone, it would remain true forever.

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