Anthony had never been a wyrmling that made things easy for his mother, Julia the Evil Dragon.
In her memory, this mischievous little dragon had only been well-behaved once—right after hatching, when he finished his eggshell and slept through his first growth period.
Only because he'd been asleep the entire time.
At the age when wyrmlings typically transition into young dragons, most would spend their days eating, replenishing energy, and living the comfortable life of "eat, sleep, repeat."
At least, that's how Julia remembered her own youth.
But by the age of five, Anthony had already learned to slash the clothes of the dragon maids with his sharp claws.
The poor maids! The dragon's lair, named Edinburgh, was located in the mist-covered northern reaches of Balivia. Getting new clothes was a rare occasion, as it took nearly half a year for daring trading caravans to venture close enough for trade.
And this was the lair of Red Dragons—hot, with a magma-filled bathing pool at its center. In such conditions, delicate cotton and silk garments were nearly impossible to preserve.
Every time their clothes were torn, the maids would grieve.
But who could stay mad at the little troublemaker when he gazed up at them with those innocent eyes? With his gleaming crimson scales, he was undeniably a handsome little devil.
By the time Anthony turned ten, maids began reporting to Julia that they often saw the young master lurking around the baths. But the Dragon Mother paid it no mind.
A well-behaved Red Dragon? Might as well wish for snow in the magma pits. Besides, what could he possibly see in those half-blooded maids? Their scales weren't even fully formed.
During his juvenile years, Anthony stumbled upon an opportunity. Using years of savings (about 100 gold coins), he secretly purchased a lewd magical tome called The Book of Pink from a trading caravan run by a shady company and a third-rate archmage named Jim.
From then on, strange occurrences plagued Edinburgh.
The entire lair's female servants grew lethargic, lost in constant spring dreams. Yet no one knew the cause.
It was a private matter, after all—and not entirely unpleasant.
When Anthony entered his late juvenile years, he suddenly stopped picking fights with other young dragons. Instead, he became obsessed with alchemy, chasing the fool's dream of turning stone into gold.
The Dragon Mother scoffed. If such a thing were possible, those white-bearded legendary archmages would've done it already. What could a half-grown whelp possibly achieve?
But greed soon got the better of her. With silver-tongued persuasion, Anthony convinced her to invest.
The cost was minimal—just ten gold coins a month for materials, along with some monster corpses and a private lab.
If I don't succeed in twenty years, he swore, I'll repay you tenfold.
The Dragon Mother's mind raced further. If the brat actually succeeds, I can seize his research and bind him to a contract. Force him to brew gold for me eternally. My wealth would surpass every dragon family!
And raising him? A trivial expense. Her slaves would hunt a little more, and she'd spare ten gold coins monthly for his trinkets.
The risk was nothing compared to the potential reward.
True, the odds were slim. Most dragons cared little for magic until they reached ancient status, favoring raw physical might instead.
But if her son showed such interest… could he be a once-in-a-generation prodigy?
The Dragon Mother's plans were grand.
Too bad she couldn't see Anthony's properties panel.
His intelligence sat at 14—higher than the average juvenile Red Dragon's 12, but far from genius.
And so, Anthony lazed around Edinburgh for years, eating and drinking on his mother's dime.
Just as her patience neared its end—when she began plotting to squeeze a hundredfold repayment from the Little Red Dragon—Anthony turned forty-nine.
Fifty was just around the corner.
Everyone knew Anthony tinkered with nonsense.
But status dictated silence. His mother ignored it. The servants dared not speak.
Only his half-sister, Fulvia, loved to gossip.
Three years his junior, this Little Female Dragon had grown unnaturally fast. Despite sharing the same meals, her body now dwarfed Anthony's—even though he'd devoured three dead eggs at hatching.
For years, he'd suspected their mother of secretly feeding her special meals.
Among dragons, size meant dominance. And as the most arrogant and brutal of the Five-Color Dragons, Fulvia's temper was legendary.
Their two brothers suffered regular beatings.
Anthony, being older, had escaped her wrath—for a time.
Back when he could still overpower her.
But after awakening from her juvenile slumber, Fulvia's confidence soared.
Her first act? Eating.
Her second? Storming into her "cowardly" brother's lair to steal every last shiny gold coin he owned.
Compared to their mother's hoard, his wealth was pitiful.
But since she couldn't challenge Julia, this newly weakened brother would do.
The Little Female Dragon charged into Anthony's lair—only to find him packing his belongings, as if preparing to flee.
Anthony blinked in surprise.
Fifty years. A safe, comfortable life in the nest. He'd survived the most dangerous phases of growth.
Now, it was time to leave with dignity—before his mother threw him out.
Absolutely not because I'm fleeing to avoid repaying her for failed experiments.
Those were never going to work anyway.
But why was his sister here? To see him off? He hadn't told anyone.
"Dear Fulvia," he said smoothly, "entering another dragon's lair uninvited is terribly rude. I'm busy now—no time for guests."
The Little Female Dragon threw back her head and laughed. She coiled her hind legs, raised her front paws, and bared her teeth in a fighting stance.
"So you heard I was coming and decided to run? Too late! Hand over your treasures and call me 'big sister,' and maybe I'll let you leave with your pride intact."
A dangerous glint flashed in Anthony's eyes.
"You never dared challenge me before," he murmured. "How interesting..."
His words were calm, but fury burned in his chest, ready to erupt into dragonfire.
As a true dragon, his pride couldn't tolerate this insult.
Yes, she was bigger now. But his strength wasn't so easily measured.
Still, he didn't want a fight. His alchemy scam had bought him years—but his mother's patience was thinning.
Better to slip away quietly than be shackled by an unfair contract.
Then, inspiration struck.
"Oh, dear sister, why care for my meager hoard? Remember my alchemy studies? I've succeeded! I was just about to present my findings to Mother. Wouldn't you like to see?"
Alchemy? Fulvia hesitated. Dragons inherited ancestral memories at birth—but could this really work?
Anthony didn't wait. With a dramatic flourish, he cast a spell.
Strange, unfamiliar syllables rolled off his tongue.
A burst of rainbow light flooded the lair—and in an instant, everything turned to gleaming gold.
It was real!
With a delighted shriek, Fulvia pounced on the treasures, rolling gleefully across what was now a Golden Lair.
Anthony sidled up, whispering in her ear.
"Dear sister, this is Edinburgh. You know Mother owns everything here—including this lair. But if you… indulge me in a certain pleasure, I'll keep this secret. Give you time to hide your new wealth. What do you say?"
Fulvia paused.
She was brash, not stupid. Their mother allowed sibling rivalries—fights for status were part of draconic society.
But battles took time. Even if she won, the servants would notice.
And if the servants knew, their mother would seize the Golden Lair.
After that, catching her alchemist brother again would be near impossible.
Better to play along. The idea intrigued her anyway.
It's not like I'll lose scales over it.
(Five-Color Dragons rarely believe in loyalty. Promiscuity is the norm—hence the countless subspecies. Unless one mate vastly outpowers the other, then 'loyalty' might emerge. —Some rambling scholar who never finished a book.)
As the Little Female Dragon closed her eyes, Anthony smirked.
His trap was sprung.
"Phantasmal Bliss!"
Fulvia's mind fogged. Pleasure wracked her body. Soft, incoherent draconic murmurs spilled from her jaws.
Anthony watched as her scales flushed brighter.
Then he stuffed his remaining treasures between his own scales and bolted.
Time to go.
As for the idiot sister?
When I'm fully grown, I'll show you what cruelty really means.
Ten minutes later, a long, shuddering roar signaled Fulvia's awakening.
(The spell lasted four hours on humans—but dragons had resistances.)
Her eyes fluttered open.
Strangely, she no longer despised her brother. His absence left her oddly hollow.
But Fulvia shook off the feeling.
Dragons are prideful. Lonely. I'll live for millennia—better get used to it.
Or find a mate someday. One I can overpower, like Mother did.
She turned to gather her golden hoard—
—when a terrifying roar shook the lair.
Her mother's voice.
Panicked, Fulvia grabbed for the gold—
—just as heavy footsteps thudded closer.
A massive, furious head loomed in the doorway.
"What," hissed the Dragon Mother, eyes blazing, "are you doing, my 'finest' child?"
"G-Good day, Mother." Fulvia trembled. Julia's temper was infamous. Her two worthless brothers had been exiled young—chased by adventurers just for eating a few villages.
(Damn that lying Anthony!)
But with her mother's wrath looming, honesty was the only option.
"Alchemy? Golden Lair?" Julia's laughter boomed through Edinburgh. "Foolish girl! Look again—it's just rocks and sticks under a glamour!"
With a wave, the spell shattered.
Fulvia stared at the now-worthless stones where gold had been.
Rage erupted.
Fire spewed from her jaws, scorching the walls.
She stormed outside, scanning the skies—but Anthony was long gone.
How?!
Her enraged roar echoed through the mountains:
"Anthony, you filthy goblin! Run all you want—I'll find you! And when I do, you'll lick every scale on my body!"
Spent, she trudged back inside.
Her mother had vanished—probably to nap.
Alone in the vast, empty lair, memories surfaced.
The fights. The chaos. The crowded nursery.
And now… just her.
Loneliness gnawed at her.
But dragons were proud. Meant to be alone.
She shook it off.
Then noticed something odd.
Her half-dragon guards lay unconscious at her door.
Dread pooled in her gut.
"Wake up!" Her roar shattered their sleeping spell. The guards scrambled up, kneeling in fear.
"What happened?!"
"Young Master Anthony visited. We tried to stop him, but… we fell asleep."
Fulvia's vision swam.
She lunged inside—
—to find her hard-earned hoard gone.
Her mother wouldn't stoop to stealing a juvenile's paltry few hundred coins.
The servants wouldn't dare.
That left one culprit.
Her scream shook Edinburgh to its foundations:
"ANTHONY! WHEN I FIND YOU, I'LL PLUCK EVERY SCALE FROM YOUR HIDE MYSELF!!!"
From her chamber, the Dragon Mother smirked.
She adjusted her position, closed her eyes, and drifted into contented sleep.