Chapter 92: Multiplayer Mayhem

Orien practically blasted off with his stubby legs, claws scrabbling against the floor as he shot forward like a tiny cannonball.

For a moment, he was all tangled in the blanket, tail whipping helplessly, wings twitching as if he were fighting for his life. By the time he finally wriggled free, he sat panting, his eyes narrowed, glaring back at the so-called safety blanket.

Obviously, it had been a trap.

If someone as great as him had nearly perished inside, then clearly any criminal caught in its folds would never escape.

No wonder that kid felt safe in there. The little sprite was smarter than he looked.

But Orien didn’t have time to think of such matters. Something far more important demanded his attention. Waddling with determination, he bolted out of the drawing room. His body shimmered faintly, disappearing from sight as he cloaked himself in magic. In the blink of an eye, he was sprinting down the hall, stubby legs working double time, heading straight for the room they had been using.

With all the seriousness of a thief reclaiming stolen treasure, Orien darted inside, snatched up the handheld he’d hidden carefully, and then barreled back the way he came.

Behind him, Liam had tried to follow. And while the baby dragon was invisible, he wasn’t exactly subtle. A trail of biscuit crumbs spilled across the floor like a trail left by the world’s smallest, crankiest burglar.

Liam’s longer legs caught up quickly. He wanted to call out, but he held back. If Lord Orien had hidden himself again, then surely he didn’t want anyone else to know. Still, his brows furrowed when he realized where they had stopped—right outside his brother’s room.

“???”

The door snapped shut in his face. All Liam could do was wait.

Thankfully, it didn’t take long.

Soon enough, the door creaked open again, and Orien zipped back out, still invisible. They returned to the drawing room in silence, Liam trailing after with wide-eyed curiosity.

When they were safely under the covers again, Liam couldn’t help but point at the floating handheld.

“Lord Orien, you also have one?!” he gasped, his mouth hanging open.

From nowhere, Orien’s voice rang proud, dripping with smugness. “Ha! Of course. Someone like me? How could I not have something like this?”

The handheld bobbed midair, crumbs still tumbling faintly onto the blanket.

“Wow!” Liam’s eyes sparkled as he clapped happily, practically bouncing in his seat. He burrowed deeper under the blanket with Orien, awe radiating from his small face. But after the excitement, a question slipped out, soft and hesitant.

“Lord Orien…” Liam tilted his head, voice as gentle as his wide eyes. “By any chance… are you the Dragon Lord’s child?”

The invisible dragon froze.

One moment, Orien was smug, basking in praise for his brilliance. The next, his expression curdled as if he’d bitten into something sour. He whipped his head around, stubby claws gripping the handheld, and in the gravest, most dramatic tone he could muster, he declared like a tiny gang boss:

“Who wants to be his child?! I’m a great dragon! And the dragon lord is just my uncle!”

He shivered, wings twitching as if he’d glimpsed his own death. The thought alone was terrifying. To have that dragon as a father? How would he even survive?

With a furious shake of his head, he repeated with force, “Uncle! Okay! Uncle!”

“Oh! Wow!”

Orien paused, blinking. That wasn’t the reaction he expected. Instead of fear and understanding, the little sprite was staring at him with eyes that glowed like stars, brimming with admiration.

“No wonder you’re amazing! You’re related to the strongest dragon!” Liam exclaimed with unshakable sincerity.

For once, Orien was left completely speechless. His stubby claws froze mid-wave, his wings sagged slightly, and his jaw worked soundlessly before he stammered, cheeks flushing beneath his scales.

“W-well, yes… something like that!”

“Anyway! Stop asking about that!” Orien barked, puffing his chest so hard he nearly toppled over sideways. “Instead, try that multiplayer thing!”

“Oh! Oh!” Liam’s eyes lit up. He scrambled upright, his console clutched like treasure. “If your handheld has the same game, then we can! Normally, if people are apart, they need the internet… but I heard there isn’t any here.”

At once, Orien froze.

No internet?

His heart thudded as panic jolted through his tiny body. Did that mean they couldn’t play? Did that mean he couldn’t show off his farm, his little people, his glorious plots of land? He thought about Riley’s frequent complaints, the way his uncle sneered whenever “internet” was mentioned. Of course. The elder dragons had probably outlawed it. Obviously, they hated the concept.

So not only did he not have access to the treasures from that small brick Riley always carried, but now he wouldn’t even be able to try multiplayer?! Should he actually start filing a formal complaint?!

Orien’s claws twitched against his console. This was unacceptable. This was—

But then Liam’s voice soothed the growing storm. “But since we’re sitting right next to each other, it should work.”

Orien blinked. Then, without realizing, he scooted closer. And closer. Until he was practically pressed against Liam’s side, golden eyes intent on the screen.

The boy, on the other hand, only blinked once in mild surprise before his face bloomed with delight. The baby dragon was soft, warmer than any stuffed animal, and infinitely cuter.

Reject him? Impossible.

Liam leaned just enough that their shoulders brushed, cuddling without a second thought.

Together, they burrowed under the blanket again, the game loading with cheerful music.

“Whose farm should we use?” Liam asked innocently.

Orien’s wings twitched. “Mine,” he declared at once, as though the very question was ridiculous. “Obviously mine. You must see the beauty of my place.”

When Liam’s character appeared on Orien’s farm, the dragonling twitched so violently he almost dropped his console. Wide eyes darted from the screen to the boy’s small hands and back again.

Truly.

They were playing together.

When Liam moved, Orien flinched, claws trembling. Then his chest swelled with pride, his expression turning smug once more. “Since I’m quite generous, you may do whatever you want. Provided you don’t destroy my farm!” he added with a pointed glare, as though daring Liam to test him.

The boy only laughed lightly, eyes sparkling. “Lord Orien, are you new to this game? Do you want me to help with something? I could weed, or take care of chores. Or maybe I should plant and water for you?”

Orien didn’t actually know what the boy could do. His pride didn’t allow him to admit it, so he waved his stubby paw imperiously. “Okay. Do that.”

And Liam did.

The dragonling’s jaw nearly hit the floor.

Because with a single flick of his wrist—

“!!!”

All twenty-seven plots shimmered and gleamed with fresh water.

“WHAT?!” Orien screeched, wings flapping in wild panic. “WHAT IS THAT?! HOW?!”

Liam jumped slightly, startled by the outburst. “Huh? How what, my lord?”

“I—I saw it!” Orien pointed a trembling claw at the screen. “You watered once—once!—but all twenty-seven plots were watered!” His stubby paw shook with the force of his disbelief.

What level of magic was this?!

“Ah! I understand the question now.” Liam grinned sheepishly. “It’s because of the golden watering can!”

“The what?!” Orien roared, tail slamming against the floor like a furious drum.

“The golden watering can, my lord!” Liam chirped, holding up his console proudly.

Orien’s mouth opened and closed like a fish. “How did you get that?! Can I buy it with gold?!”

“Oh—about this… do you want me to show you?” Liam’s voice was hesitant, gentle. “But we’ll have to visit my farm first. It’s not unlocked here yet.”

“Your farm?” Orien repeated faintly.

“Yes, Lord Orien,” Liam said with a smile.

And they did.

Only… when they arrived, Orien—or whatever was left of him—stared in abject horror.

The little sprite. The weak, biscuit-hoarding, juice-sharing sprite.

He was rich.

Far, far richer than him.

“!!!”

How could it be?!

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