Game of Thrones, Ice and Fire, I hatched the Black Death.

Chapter 3 The Appearance of the Dragon

The crack, as thin as a hair, seemed to emit a deafening roar in the silence.

All of Will's fatigue, hunger, and burning pain in his back were banished from his senses in that instant.

He huddled in the shadows between the bricks, his eyes fixed intently on the ever-growing, forking crack on the dragon egg in his arms.

The dark red and jet-black markings became more vivid as the cracks spread, as if beneath the eggshell lay not an embryo, but rather surging, bound lava and shadows.

The previously stable warmth suddenly intensified, becoming scorching; the part of Will's tattered undergarment stuck to the eggshell even emitted a faint burnt smell.

But he couldn't feel the heat, or rather, the heat resonated with something in his blood that was surging because of the contract, and it was no longer just an external threat, but more like a resonance.

"Click...click click..."

The fine cracking sounds blended together, growing increasingly urgent.

The eggshell was no longer a single piece; its surface was covered with spiderweb-like cracks, especially starting from the darkest patch in the center, where the cracks were most dense.

Then, all sound suddenly stopped.

Only Will's suppressed breathing could be heard in the crevice, along with the faint scraping of the eggshell by some living creature coming from inside the dragon egg.

coming.

"puff."

A small, sharp, black fragment with a dark metallic sheen was pushed out from inside the eggshell and fell onto the tattered cloth on Will's lap.

The edges of the fragments were not sharp; instead, they had a strange, rounded feel, as if they had been melted by high temperatures.

Immediately afterwards, a claw emerged.

It was very small, less than half the size of Will's palm.

Covered in fine, jagged black scales, each one seemed to be crafted from the purest midnight and obsidian, with sharp edges that refracted a dark red glow in the dim light, as if uncooled magma flowed inside.

Its four toes were curved, with hook-shaped, translucent, dark red keratin at the tips, as hard as refined steel. Its wings were not yet able to open.

It carefully, yet with undeniable strength, gripped the edge of the broken eggshell.

Another claw also emerged from the crack beside it.

Two tiny black claws grabbed the eggshell, and then, with a sudden rip, tore it apart!

"Splash—!"

Most of the eggshell was torn open and thrown away, with fragments scattered all over the ground.

A wet, slimy little head suddenly popped out from the hole.

Will held his breath.

It's too small.

It was only about two sizes bigger than a newborn kitten.

Its long neck is covered with fine black scales. As it moves, mucus slides off, revealing faint dark red patterns beneath the scales, like blood vessels or the veins of cooled lava.

Its head is not round, but rather has a smooth, angular wedge shape, with the lines of its cheekbones and brow ridges already beginning to show.

The tightly closed eyelids were covered by a translucent nictitating membrane with a dark golden sheen.

The most striking features are its head and the back of its neck.

Instead of smooth scales, there were rows of tiny but unusually sharp, dark red to almost black bone spurs extending backward, like a miniature crown of thorns.

It shook its head, splattering slime, some of which landed on the back of Will's hand, carrying a slight warmth and a faint sulfurous smell.

Then it opened its mouth and let out a hiss.

"Hiss—Sizzle—"

The voice wasn't loud, and even sounded somewhat childish, but it had an extremely high pitch, a metallic, scratchy quality, and was very penetrating.

Inside the mouth, Will glimpsed two rows of small but unusually sharp white fangs, and a fleeting, darker red light deep in the throat.

The baby dragon seemed to have used a lot of strength to struggle its upper body completely out of the broken eggshell.

It lay on the remaining eggshells and rags, its long, thin tail swaying unconsciously, the tip of which was also shaped like a sharp bone spur.

It tried to support its body with its forelimbs, but its hind limbs were still inside the eggshell, making it look somewhat clumsy.

Then, it lowered its head.

Instead of looking at Will, it looked at the eggshell fragments scattered around, still carrying its own scent and warmth.

It extends one of its front paws, hooks onto the edge of a larger piece of eggshell with distinct dark red markings, and gently pulls it to its mouth.

Without any hesitation, it opened its mouth and its fine, sharp teeth snapped shut.

"Click."

A crisp, teeth-grinding cracking sound.

The hard dragon eggshell, which could withstand the slashing of ordinary swords, was easily crushed and ground up by the baby dragon's own teeth, just like a fragile cookie.

It swallowed it. Its throat bulged slightly.

Then came the second piece, the third piece...

It ate quickly and intently, as if it were the most delicious food in the world.

The "crunch" sound of the shell being chewed echoed rhythmically in the silent gap.

With each piece he ate, Will could feel the warm current transmitted back through the contract growing stronger, and the newborn, faint but ever-growing aura on the fledgling dragon becoming more solid.

Its scales dry and harden at a visible speed, and the dark red sheen becomes more pronounced against the black base.

The bone spurs on my back also seemed to have lengthened and become sharper.

The wet, sticky substance completely disappeared, replaced by a dry, warm scent, similar to fine leather mixed with metal.

Finally, it ate all the eggshell fragments it could reach, including the largest pieces of the "cradle" that had once supported its body.

Finally, it even stretched out its forked, dark red tongue and carefully licked the bits of eggshell and residual slime stuck to the rag and Will's hands.

Having done all this, it seemed to finally have "time" to pay attention to its surroundings, and...

The Will in front of it.

It raised its head, its neck forming a graceful and powerful arc.

The nictitating membrane covering the eyelid blinked and slowly lifted upwards.

A pair of eyes.

Will met those eyes.

The pupil is a vertical slit, like the most cold-blooded and efficient predator.

But the color of his pupils was not the fiery golden yellow or lava red he had expected, but a dark gold.

That gold was extremely deep, as if it were molten gold that had been settled over countless years, or as if the last rays of twilight had been sealed at the bottom of the deepest mine.

In the center of the vertical pupil, a tiny, yet incredibly sharp, dark red spark seemed to burn eternally.

Those eyes were fixed intently on Will.

There was no intimacy, no dependence, and not even much curiosity.

That gaze held a nascent, pure scrutiny, carrying with it the innate arrogance of dragons, and a hint of assessment.

It was assessing the small yet peculiar creature to which its life was intertwined.

Will remained motionless, even slowing his breathing.

He knew this moment was crucial.

A contract establishes a bond of life, but trust, or rather, initial recognition, needs to be established at this moment.

He slowly raised his hand, not directly touching the baby dragon's unusually sharp head or bone spikes, but instead spreading his palm out, palm up, and gently placing it in front of the baby dragon's lower jaw.

A mild, non-threatening stance.