This Beast-Tamer is a Little Strange

The Red Dragon King Vulcun reclined on his 'throne' of shimmering gold and glittering gemstones, his massive frame shifting comfortably against the treasure.

His fiery eyes lazily scanned the collection, gleaming with pride. He gave himself a mental pat on the back for his unparalleled ability to accumulate such wealth. Truly, no dragon's hoard could compare to his. Probably only that detestable king of the metallic dragons who live far to the south would be able to compare to his wealth.

Suddenly Vulcun's heart skipped a beat, 'In the time that we'd been isolated from the other races, I'd heard that stupid lump of fake gold Allmonis had been interacting quite frequently with some tribes to the south…Wouldn't that mean that bastard may be richer than me?! NO! That can't happen!'

Scared by his own thoughts, he immediately straightened up in discomfort and then thought of his heir, Galadriel. Lately, the young one had been spending far too much time with humans. Vulcun snorted. Humans were cunning and weak but they tended to have good stuff—artifacts, rare materials, treasures they didn't deserve. Was it possible Galadriel had acquired anything of value from them?

His gaze sharpened as he mused. 'It is my responsibility as a father to ensure that Galadriel wasn't burdened by the dangers of hoarding too much wealth at a young age. What if someone tried to rob the child's cave? It wasn't healthy for a young dragon to keep too many treasures.'

Of course, Vulcun conveniently ignored the fact that Galadriel, as the sole heir to the Red Dragon King, was practically untouchable. No dragon, no matter how powerful, would dare invade Galadriel's territory. But Vulcun wasn't about to let a little thing like logic interfere with his justified, parental concern.

With a rumbling growl, Vulcun made his decision. He would conduct his routine "parent check" of Galadriel's cave. He performed these checks every couple of decades, like most coloured dragon parents, for Galadriel's own good, he assured himself, as a faint spark of greed lit up his eyes.

Immediately acting on his thought, Vulcun rose completely from his pile of gold and stretched, shaking loose a cascade of gold coins and jewels from his scales. A beat of his powerful wings sent him soaring toward his offspring's lair just below his own.

However, when he landed at the mouth of the cave, he immediately noticed something that gave him pause: the jewels embedded into the walls—or lack thereof.

This confused him. His last inspection had been decades ago, and while he knew Galadriel might not amassed as much wealth as himself, surely enough time had passed for the child to replace at least some of what he had confiscated back then… Could his own child possibly be so poor? Vulcun's nose twitched in disbelief.

He moved deeper into the cave, his talons clicking against the stone floor. The silence was almost eerie. No faint echoes of movement, no ambient sounds of a young dragon's hoard being fussed over.

When Vulcun reached the main chamber, his frown deepened. The cave was empty. Completely empty. Not only was his only child not here, but there wasn't a single scrap of treasure to be seen.

"Unbelievable," Vulcun muttered, his voice a low growl.

He turned and immediately flew toward the base of the mountain range. He had a feeling about where. Galadriel was, but thankfully the child shouldn't have gotten too far yet.

As he flew over the mountain range, it was much noisier than usual— thanks to the new Kobold servants. Vulcun could hear their grating voices from above, praising the dragons as they worked.

Unlike the Elorians, who had been quiet in their servitude due to their immense fear of them, these creatures took every opportunity to loudly declare their devotion.

Not that Vulcun minded. His chest puffed out slightly as he flew over them, enjoying their adoration. They might be ugly, but the Kobolds were proving themselves to have other advantages.

It wasn't long before Vulcun spotted what he was looking for. Inside the forest close to the base of the mountain, a small, chubby figure waddled forward, struggling under the weight of an enormous bag strapped to its back. Vulcun's eyes narrowed.

He gave a loud, rumbling huff. The sound carried through the air and hit the small dragon squarely on its round, red-scaled behind.

The dragon yelped in surprise, lost its balance, and went tumbling to the ground, rolling a few times before coming to a stop in a comically dishevelled heap.

Galadriel scrambled upright, eyes blazing with indignation. "Who—" The words died in the young dragon's throat when Galadriel turned and saw Vulcun. The indignation it felt was immediately replaced by a sheepish look.

Vulcun's lips curled into a cruel smile. "Planning to run away with the humans, are we?" he asked, his tone deceptively casual.

Galadriel's eyes widened comically, silently asking, How could you possibly know?!

Vulcun sighed in exasperation, not bothering to answer the unspoken question. "Fine. You may accompany them to the border to say goodbye to your little friend, but only to the border. Understand?"

He raised a claw, and a faint leash of red magic appeared around Galadriel's neck. The leash faded to invisible, but Galadriel stiffened, clearly feeling its effects. Galadriel knew that as long as this leash was in place, that its dream of leaving the dragons' territory and swimming in the ocean of treasures the humans promised would only be a dream.

Before Galadriel could protest, Vulcun leaned down and plucked the massive bag from the smaller dragon's back. He gave it a cursory glance before slinging it over his own shoulder. "I'll hold onto this for now," he said with mock sweetness.

Galadriel's claws clenched, and a muttered comment about "greedy fathers" escaped under their breath, but Vulcun pretended not to hear.

With an angry huff, Galadriel took to the air, at a much faster pace without its burden, heading off toward the humans marching away in the distance. Despite the sour mood, there was a determined glint in their eyes.

Even if Galadriel couldn't leave with Vauleth as planned. She wanted to say goodbye to her best friend.