In the first level of Barto Hell, at the outskirts of the Evil Scales Fortress, inside a certain cave.

A brutal man with a scarred face snarled at his two companions, "Before the mother dragon returns, put it to sleep! Otherwise, all three of us are going to die!" He said through clenched teeth, viciously pointing his index finger at a small pond inside the cave.

The pond's green poisonous water bubbled, and in the center were three light azure eggs, as large as buckets, with snake scale-like patterns on their surfaces. Two of them were dim in color and had indented shells; they would never hatch. The lucky one was a newly hatched green dragonet. Its wings partially curled, and the wing bones were still soft. Its body covered in light green scales, like hardened snake skin, sleek and smoothly overlapping. The insides of the wing membranes and the undersides of the neck and belly revealed yellowish-brown soft skin.

The dragonet crunched and chewed on the eggshell, ate a couple of bites, and found it somewhat dry. Bowing its head, it slurped up the pond water, then smacked its lips, its eyes widening as it stared at the few strange creatures. The bloodline inheritance allowed it to understand the language of these humanoid creatures from birth, yet it couldn't comprehend what they were doing.

Roars of giant beasts resonated from outside the cave, sending shivers down the man's spine. "Quick, think of something!"

One of his companions was a raggedy wood elf, and the other, a dwarf with anger written all over his face. All three wore slave collars inscribed with Hellish script.

The wood elf huddled and hugged his arms. "How were you lullabied to sleep as children?"

The scarred man drifted off for a moment, recalling days before the bloodshed and blades, so distant it felt like someone else's memories. In the dim candlelight, a weary woman flipped through a picture book, telling her child on the bed tales of absurd legends.

"Bedtime stories..."

"In the past, there was a boy who had his own guardian angel. When he wandered alone in the wilderness, he was unafraid..."

The man recited softly, the woman's face in his memories fading more each day... Had he not joined the cult of the evil god, would he have stayed by her side, living out an ordinary life, reciting lullabies to his son?

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

Clatter! A mighty thunderclap swept over the cave, followed by a distant wail, seemingly of someone struck by it.

The man snapped back to reality, finding both the dwarf and elf staring at him in surprise. He quickly hid his weakness and turned to the green dragon. To his disappointment, the dragon tilted its head, showing no sign of falling asleep.

The dragonet was puzzled. It understood the story but couldn't grasp the logic. Why would a higher realm's angel guard a frail mortal? The idea of the strong wasting their energy on the weak was utterly absurd!

"Fuck! Might as well go out fighting!" The man said dejectedly. He secretly resented why he got involved in this mess; if he had not ventured into Hell, if he had not short-changed the devil during the tribute, if he hadn't been purchased by the mother dragon...

The wood elf looked at the two men and said, "Shall I try?"

The scarred man gestured for her to proceed.

The elf's voice was ethereal and clear, her short poem like a slowly unveiling scarf, revealing a murmuring brook in a quiet forest.

By the final few words, she was in tears. The wood elf collapsed to the ground, cupping her face in her hands: "I want to go home..."

The green dragonet entirely missed the serenity and sadness of elf culture and did not grasp the lamenting tones of their dirge. In the story, it only understood one word, "unicorn."

In its racial memory, this creature ranked at the top of the forest food chain, with meat that tasted extraordinarily tender and delicious. The ancestral taste buds made the dragonet's mouth water, and it bounced around, urging the elf to continue. However, with its vocal cords yet to develop, it could only emit "ah, ah" noises.

"Ptui!" The dwarf loudly spat, startling the green dragon, which unveiled its sharp milk teeth and hissed at him.

The dwarf scorned with a pout, "Whimpering women, death isn't scary. The descendants of the mountains never fear death; we are with our ancestors!"

He jumped onto a low rock, using his chest as a drum, his fists as mallets, beating a rhythm, the sound rugged, desolate, and grand.

"Hey! My brothers, death is not a punishment! When it knocks on your stone house, do not hesitate, do not be afraid. Hey! Take up your warhammer, pass it to your son, he will inscribe your tombstone! Hey! Take up your leather armor, pass it to your wife, she will carry on your lineage! Hey! Take out your gold coins, pass them to your clan, they will sing of you! Hey! Hey! My brothers, death should not be feared, the spirits of the ancestors sing in the hills: Hey! Hey!"

The dwarf poured all his helplessness and rage into his song, his emotions stirred, his beard trembling, his chest heaving.

The dragonet appeared startled at first, then became incensed. What nonsense was this short creature spouting! He dared say all treasures should be given away! The treasures are mine, forever mine, not to be given away!

It splashed the pond water towards the dwarf, who raised his arms to block, the water sizzling upon contact with his skin.

The dwarf picked up a stone from the ground, "You cruel green-skinned mongrel..." he threatened to throw.

Boom! A colossal creature descended vertically at the cave entrance, the ground trembling with its impact.

The creature blocked the entrance's light, stepping towards the three. The distant combat and explosions were suppressed by her terrifyingly heavy breathing.

The dwarf dropped the stone, and along with the scarred man, they both gulped, while the elf trembled more violently. The dragonet sniffed the air, joyously calling out, "Ah, ah."

She appeared around the corner; a giant female green dragon with claw wounds on her back and chest, blood dripping down her scales.

The mother dragon's golden vertical pupils were cold and brutal. She had a long spinal bone in her mouth, dragging a silver dragon's head at one end.

She dropped her trophy, glanced at the dragonet, then swept her gaze over the three.