Objection!!

A jarring cry split the hush like a blade through silk; every gaze snapped toward the sound.

From a tangle of heads, a Black Dragon surfaced—ink-dark scales streaked with green, small as a human girl.

Tiny as a sparrow, he was the lone storm of dissent in the hall.

The Ninety Nine Maiden jolted, then rushed down like wind off a ridge, scooping the little Black Dragon with a sheepish smile.

"Ahaha… sorry. This little one’s a special hatchling among our newborns. Don’t mind him; he gets rebellious sometimes."

"Put me down! You’re the rebel!"

Before she could explain, the youngster snapped and bit her—the Dragon King’s—hand; milk teeth pattered like rain on stone, harmless but bruising her pride.

Annoyed, the Ninety Nine Maiden pinched a wing, the nerve-rich spot dragons guard, then twisted the tip like turning a latch.

He should have wailed like a cub; instead he sealed his lips, tears beading like dew, a muffled whine swallowed by stubborn fire.

Seeing the lesson land, she let go; the pinched ridge kinked slightly, a bent reed on a riverbank.

"Well? Still think you can act out?"

If he hadn’t cried then, why yield now?

"No! I don’t agree! I absolutely don’t agree!"

"You—you… I’ll deal with you later. One brat’s opinion won’t stop everyone’s consent!"

Her patience frayed like rope in salt wind.

"Alright, since everyone agrees, I now offi—"

"I—do—not—agree!!!!"

A child’s lungs are drums; his shout drowned her like thunder over a temple bell.

Even the mild Ninety Nine Maiden hit the edge of anger; she grabbed his wing, ready to punish him again.

"Okay, freaky dragon, let me talk to him."

The nickname landed out of nowhere. Ling ignored the Ninety Nine Maiden’s blank look and gently pried her fingers away.

"Little one, give me a reason. Why oppose us?"

Ling softened her voice like warm tea, face kind as spring sun—yet the Black Dragon slapped her with a wing, fluttering free of her hand.

"Get lost! Don’t you touch me!"

The words were rude as grit. Before Ling could reply, a crushing aura surged from the Ninety Nine Maiden like a storm tide.

"Child… we can forgive rudeness, arrogance, even every bad habit. But don’t think that strange blood in you is a license to rampage.

"In front of the Dragonfolk’s guest, show some decorum."

Her words dropped like stones. Instinct seized him; his knees buckled, and he knelt—no, flattened—toward Ling like a felled sapling.

"Enough, freaky dragon. Pause. I’m quite interested in this one~"

It should have been the apology scene. But Ling stayed the Ninety Nine Maiden’s pressure with a steady look and a calm breath.

Only then did the little Black Dragon catch air, chest rising like a bellows.

Ling stepped close in light skips and crouched so their eyes met level as moon to water.

"Little one, have we met somewhere?"

"Tsk… of course! You knocked me flat back then."

Ling searched her memory—no image of bullying a baby dragon glimmered.

"Be specific."

"You still can’t remember? Figures—human brains are dumb. Think. Before you hit that old dragon, you hit another one!"

Below, an old dragon shivered like leaves in wind.

"Oh! Right. Just before that, I did deck a waking dragon. But his size dwarfed you… you don’t look like him."

"Nonsense! I was almost crawling out from that dumb dragon’s belly. You punched him again, and I got shoved back in!!!"

Ling caught the gist, though it didn’t explain the strange familiarity. She let the puzzle drift like incense smoke.

"Skip that. Tell me why you’re blocking our alliance."

The Black Dragon snorted, rose from prone to standing, finally able to look down on Ling like a tiny king atop a stone.

"Because I don’t approve of you!"