Evil Dragon: The young dragon I picked up keeps planning on becoming an empress

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Pulling the covers over her, Amelia lay in bed with a silly smile, wondering what Venus's reaction would be when she saw Lance.

Hurry up, dawn....

She was already becoming impatient.

...

It was December 4th, 3455, in the Black Dragon Calendar, overcast.

It wasn't snowing today; when she woke up on the couch in the morning, Ingrid told her that the Evil Dragon was outside making a snow sculpture.

The Evil Dragon was making a snow sculpture?

The Young Dragon touched her bald head and went outside to the courtyard.

What the Evil Dragon had made wasn't a snowman, but a young dragon.

Somehow it seemed to be her.

Building a snow dragon this early in the morning; she wondered whether the Evil Dragon had eaten breakfast yet, realizing she had forgotten to ask Ingrid.

Hey....

After the Evil Dragon finished the snow dragon, she would "accidentally" step on the snow dragon's tail and collapse it, or "accidentally" fall over... and break the snow dragon the Evil Dragon had so carefully made....

What would the Evil Dragon's reaction be?

Would he chase her in a fit of rage?

Should she... try it?

"I'll help you."

The Young Dragon ran to the snow dragon with a mischievous grin, then, not paying attention, she let out an "oops".... as she slipped...

As she slid towards the snow dragon, about to break what the Evil Dragon had made, she was hoisted into the air.

"Next time you pretend to slip... make it a little more convincing."

"I wasn't pretending; I really did slip."

"That wasn't slipping; that was falling. After you fell, you were quickly crawling toward the snow dragon I made.... I saw right through your mischief; you were trying to deliberately ruin my snow dragon, weren't you?"

"I slid that far... it wasn't crawling..."

The Young Dragon, batting her innocent purple-gold vertical pupils, firmly denied that she was crawling.

She had slid over.

Lance put down the Dragon Whelp and lightly tapped her bald head with his hand.

You just don't have the talent for mischief.

"Build your own."

"No. I want to build one with you."

"Don't mess mine up... I.... You build first; someone sent me a message, I need to check it."

"Oh."

The Diamond Talisman on Lance's left hand lit up; was it the Grim Reaper's Scythe? Was Death God Solomon contacting him?

Oh, no. It was a message from a trainee Grim Reaper in another area requesting assistance.

The message read: [I encountered a strong opponent while clearing the nearby Undead. If any colleagues are free, I hope you can come and assist me. After the task is completed, I'm willing to offer some Hell Gold in thanks. If any colleague nearby is facing a tough bounty task and needs support, you can also contact me. If you're free and willing to help, please reply, and I will send the coordinates to you.]

A trainee Grim Reaper seeking help?

This was the first time receiving such a message.

Considering the content passed in the message, it seems this trainee Grim Reaper wasn't in mortal danger.

After thinking it over, Lance replied with a message: [Read. Busy with the whelp, can't spare the time right now.]

Putting away the Grim Reaper's Scythe, he prepared to continue making the snow dragon when Amelia, dressed in a blue tweed coat, appeared on the garden path outside the courtyard.

The Dragon Whelp took her own hat out of the Spatial Ring and placed it on the snow dragon's head.

Perhaps feeling that his snow dragon was too perfect and couldn't showcase her snow sculpting prowess, she began to make a snowman next to the snow dragon with a shovel.

She was now gathering the snowflakes around the courtyard.

"Morning, little Dragon."

"Morning, Sister Amelia."

"Making a snowman?"

"Yeah, I'm trying to make a Lance."

"Good luck."

After exchanging pleasantries, Amelia approached Lance with a smile, "What are you doing standing here? Won't you help the little Dragon make a snowman?"

"I was about to; I just saw you coming and I was waiting here for you."

"Waiting for me for what? I came here to freeload a meal. You go help the little Dragon with the snowman; no need to entertain me specially."

So peculiar.

Her smile seemed a bit fake, like she was scheming something.

After staring at Amelia for a few moments, Lance couldn't be bothered to guess what mischief she was up to; at most, he would just tease her a bit.

"Did you have breakfast?"

"No."

"Let's go eat in the dining room." Lance then looked toward the Dragon Whelp: "Dragon Whelp, did you eat breakfast?"

"No."

"Go eat your breakfast before coming back to build the snowman."

"Oh, don't take the snow I've gathered."

"I'm not that childish."

"..."

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I'm not that childish....

The young dragon repeated in his mind the words the evil dragon had said, imitating his tone.

When not playing, he's not childish.
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When it comes to playing, he's more childish than anyone.

Not a bit of self-awareness.

The young dragon walked toward the dining hall with Amelia, breakfast was warm milk and bread.

In the dining hall.

Amelia quickly finished a slice of bread and, holding a glass of milk, she went to the dining hall's glass window. Through the glass, she could see Lance sneaking snow from the young dragons.

This childish behavior... he had never shown it in front of them a thousand years ago.

When with them, he was composed, mature.

Old kids, old kids....

Could this be what humans call an "old kid"?

Hey, it's about time to give my old teammates a little Lance shock.

After finishing the milk in her glass, Amelia took out a projection communication device from her spatial ring and initiated a projection call to Venus.

Before long, the silhouette of Venus appeared on the projection screen.

Different from yesterday, Venus was wearing a pure black suit today.

Her silver-white, shoulder-length hair, coupled with her pair of pain-filled crimson eyes, made Venus look somewhat handsome.

The young dragon thought the sister in pure black suit in the projection looked kind of cool, a bit cold.

It's just that her look was somewhat melancholic.

Seeing this aloof and melancholic sister in the projection, the young dragon's mind conjured up the image of Leia.

Both had silver hair and red pupils, but their auras were completely different, even their face shapes differed.

Leia was full of vigor.

The handsome sister in the projection... melancholic... and it looked like she was also somewhat mournful…

"Morning, Venus, what were you busy with just now?"

"Nothing much, just reading some messages from a colleague. Where are you? When did you get a young dragon?"

"This young dragon isn't mine. It belongs to that person outside."

Amelia turned the projector around so that it faced the transparent glass window.

Through the clear glass, Venus saw someone outside building a snowman. Had it snowed already where Amelia was?

Looking at the thickness of the snow, it seemed it had been there for quite a while.

The person building the snowman... was somewhat special?

He had a head of black hair.

The potion master's hair is also black... black... black...Lance!!!

Venus, who was initially seated, suddenly stood up.

There was no mistake.

That face was Sorcerer-pharmacist Lance.

The one who sacrificed himself in front of his teammates.

How could he still be alive?

Did he reincarnate?

Lance, sensing someone looking at him, turned and glanced in the direction of the dining hall.

Projection?

It seemed familiar.

As if he had seen it somewhere before.

Silver hair, red pupils... a gloomy look...

In Lance's mind surfaced an image of a little girl who liked to hug her magic wand and squat in dark corners.

The witch Venus.

The little rascal from back then.

Such a change.

A thousand years ago, her silvery-white long hair would cascade behind her and when she squatted in a dark corner, the long hair would sweep the area clean of dust.

Sometimes when her silvery hair got dirty with dust and soil, she wouldn't even be aware.

In his free time, he would clean the dust and dirt from Venus's silvery hair.

Not the whole thing, just the bit that swept the floor.

Back then, she barely reached a height of one fifty-seven, but now... she seemed to have grown quite a bit taller.

The waist-length silver-white hair had been cut, transforming into a shoulder-length cut, and her favorite black dress... had changed into a pure black suit.

Gloomy, mournful, and handsome…

Sold out by Amelia.

The moment he saw Amelia yesterday, he knew she would sooner or later tell his old teammates that he was still alive.

He hadn't expected to meet another teammate this morning.

Lance stuck his shovel into the pile of snow, waved to Venus, and headed towards the dining hall.

Amelia, standing by the dining hall window, turned the projector to face herself, "Remember that face?"

"Lance's face! You found the reincarnated Lance?!"

"Reincarnated? Venus... is it possible... that he's the very fraudster Lance himself?!"

"Called me uncle last night, and a fraudster this morning?" Lance stepped in front of the projector, his golden-red eyes revealing a hint of amusement: "Long time no see... Venus."