CHAPTER 100: GOLD, GIFTS, AND GLARING MATCHES

It was Riley’s mother who actually started, and she started out by saying, "Well, Lord Orien, I apologize for this very crude gift, but from our family, we’d like to give you the recipe for the fried chicken and the spaghetti. While it’s nothing expensive, it’s one that my grandparents have passed down to us."

"What?!" Orien exclaimed, his hands hitting the table so hard the dishes nearly flew. They would have if not for the dragon lord casually holding everything in place with a flick of magic.

Renee Hale froze. For a split second, she thought she had just committed the worst mistake of her life, offering something so lowly as a birthday gift.

But then Orien shrieked, "Such a priceless heirloom?! I cannot simply accept that as a gift! For something like that, surely you must be compensated!"

The baby dragon nearly broke at the thought. Recipes like these were national treasures! They ought to be locked away in a vault guarded by armies. Who in their right mind would hand them out so freely?

But instead of grasping his point, Riley’s mother only smiled gently and said, "It is because both Riley and Liam seem fond of Lord Orien, and since I saw how much you enjoyed the food I prepared, I thought this was a fitting gift from our family."

Orien gaped. She thought this was fitting? This was the equivalent of handing over a magical artifact for fun!

Before he could argue further, Liam bounced in his chair. "Mom! I also have a gift of my own!"

"What?!" Orien nearly toppled over. What did he mean, he also had a gift? Did Liam cook something too?

But Liam puffed up proudly. "I’ll give it later! My gift is something I can only give when we’re playing!"

The baby dragon blinked. Playing? His panic spiked. He wasn’t sure how to react because, normally, birthday gifts meant gold. Gold, gold, and more gold. Sometimes antiques too, allegedly priceless heirlooms, though those were usually meant for the guardians rather than the hatchling. Birthday celebrations were clan politics dressed up in gold and grandeur, after all.

And yet... these gifts... were specifically meant for him?

Liam beamed, his little face glowing with pride. Then he peeked at his big brother, clearly wondering what Riley’s gift to Orien would be.

But Riley only said calmly, "I’ll go later. For now, we’ll have Orien’s grandparents."

Kael was suddenly put on the spot, while Orien was stunned that they had even sent something for him while he was away.

Just as expected, it was money.

The dragonling’s eyes went wide as a small pocket space shimmered open and nearly exploded with gold coins. The air glittered with the weight of it. Liam almost leapt out of his seat with excitement.

Orien, who normally would have looked down his snout at such a thing, suddenly clutched the edge of the table, trembling. After being away from the nest, he had realized something horrifying: he was dead broke. He had been living entirely on his uncle’s good graces.

But not anymore!

The baby dragon let out a snicker of pure delight as he stared at the glittering mountain. Fortune had smiled on him. With this, he could buy whatever he wanted!

Unbeknownst to him, while he was busy imagining the glorious future where he personally bought out the place called a supermarket, one very human aide and one very golden dragon lord were already glaring at each other across the table, eyebrows locked in silent combat.

The battle began in silence.

Riley widened his eyes. Tilted his head. Raised his brows. Lowered them again. Pointed his chin toward Orien with all the subtlety of a frantic semaphore. Clearly, he was saying, Go on, your turn.

Kael, infuriatingly, did not move.

Instead, he simply blinked once. Slowly. Then looked away as if Riley’s attempt at interpretive eyebrow dance was beneath notice.

Riley tried again. He gave a meaningful side-eye, followed by an exaggerated nod toward Orien, then back at Kael. Go. Give your gift. Do it.

Nothing.

The dragon lord’s face might as well have been carved from marble.

A bead of sweat nearly trailed down Riley’s temple. Was this it? Had the almighty Dragon Lord... forgotten? The thought made him pale. If Kael had actually shown up without a gift, they were doomed. The hatchling would resent him forever.

While there might not be any weeping or even shrieking, he was pretty sure the dragonling would remember it for centuries to come. At the very least, he would remember it while Riley was still working there, and Riley was not emotionally prepared for that.

He swallowed hard, horror dawning. His eyes screamed You forgot, didn’t you?!

Kael finally looked at him, the faintest curl of disdain tugging at his mouth. Then, with deliberate slowness, he rolled his eyes.

Riley froze.

...Oh.

So he hadn’t forgotten.

Obviously.

Of course, the smug lizard wouldn’t be caught unprepared. Riley exhaled shakily while Kael turned his head slightly, as though to say, Calm yourself. You dramatize everything.

And indeed, Kael hadn’t forgotten. He simply hadn’t put much thought into it.

Just like his parents, he was prepared to give money. But after seeing the dragonling’s delighted shock over recipes and a promise of a special gift for later, handing out coins—the same coins already given—suddenly felt like insulting himself

So he decided to wait. Benchmark first. If Riley gave something equally trivial, then Kael could safely stick to his plan without Orien hating him for the next century.

Which was how Riley Hale ended up giving his gift first. Much to Kael’s belated regret.

To add salt to the wound, Riley had actually wrapped it. With paper. Neat folds, tied string, the works.

Orien stared at it like he had just been presented with a rare relic. "What is this supposed to be?" he asked, genuinely baffled.

"Oh! Oh! Lord Orien, it’s wrapped!" Liam piped up, bouncing in his seat. "They say the more you tear the wrapper, the more presents you’ll get next year!"

It was a real tradition, all right. But Riley panicked at the thought of Orien tearing the entire house apart in pursuit of next year’s bounty. He rushed to add, "Although... Lord Orien may be a bit too strong for this. You might end up ripping the gift inside."

Orien glanced down at his stubby claws, flexed them, and frowned. Yes. Clearly, these weapons of mass destruction could shred anything in seconds. Surely such flimsy human offerings would not survive.

The baby dragon coughed into his paw, then puffed himself up importantly. "So, given that, little sprite, you should be honored to tear apart the wrapping in my stead!" He said it with the weight of a royal decree, as though bestowing a sacred privilege.

Riley pressed his lips together, holding back a sigh. He could hardly argue when Liam looked like he had just won the lottery.

The boy took a deep breath. Then attacked the wrapping paper like a feral beast. Paper shredded, string snapped, bits flew everywhere. It was carnage.

Kael’s eye twitched.

And then, just as suddenly, Liam straightened and beamed, holding something rectangular delicately as if nothing had happened—a true picture of innocence.

Orien blinked at him. Blinked again. The contrast was so absurd that the baby dragon could only sit in stunned silence. And when Liam chirped brightly, "I ripped it extra well so you’ll have even more gifts next year!" Orien’s jaw worked soundlessly before he gave up entirely.

He couldn’t argue.

Not when the gift itself was finally revealed in its full glory!