"Just one gemstone, the smallest and least noticeable one," Garon thought as he eyed the treasure trove. At this moment, the idea of snatching eggshells from his siblings was far from his mind. The benefits of swallowing a gemstone, which contained magical energy, were far more enticing. Such gemstones could accelerate a dragonling's growth, helping them survive the vulnerable early stages. Even ordinary gemstones were beneficial for the growth of a dragonling's scales and bones.
The white dragon mother, naturally aware of this, was also typical of evil dragons—selfish and fiercely possessive of her treasures. It was unlikely she would share her precious stones with her young.
Normally, while dragonlings are born with a love for treasure, they dare not target their mother's hoard. Not out of respect or filial piety, but due to the significant risks involved. Getting caught could lead to a severe beating.
As dragonlings grow into their juvenile phase and develop a strong desire to hoard treasures and establish territories, the dragon mother would not hesitate to drive them out to ensure they wouldn't covet her collection.
But Garon was determined.
The most perilous time for a dragon is during its dragonling stage. The high mortality rate among white dragonlings was partly due to neglectful mothers and partly due to the physical frailty of the young. To swiftly pass through this vulnerable phase, Garon set his sights on the gemstones.
As the weakest of the white dragonlings, and without any magical systems to aid him, Garon felt he needed to take risks to survive. The mortality rate among white dragonlings was too high.
"Dragons die standing tall!
Dragons without gems don't grow large!
A bold dragon may die, but a timid one will starve!"
Soon, Garon devised a plan and swiftly returned to the mouth of the nest to survey his surroundings. The snowstorm continued without a sign of the white dragon mother, suggesting she wouldn't return for some time.
Back at the depths of the nest, his dragon sister Hil had finished her eggshell and was sitting like a dog, her sleek-scaled head swaying with Garon's movements, clearly curious about what he was up to.
With only Hil and the gently shaking eggs in the nest, and nothing much else to look at, Garon knew if Hil saw him take a magical gemstone, she would undoubtedly tattle to their mother upon her return, likely enjoying the sight of him being chased out of the nest.
"The first challenge of a dragon's life: borrowing a gemstone from the white dragon mother's hoard."
"The first obstacle: how to successfully evade a witness."
Garon's platinum eyes narrowed, twinkling mysteriously. Sensing the malice directed at her, Hil uneasily twitched her long tail.
Garon grinned at Hil, trying to appear friendly, but his young, sharp teeth gave him a somewhat fierce look.
As Garon approached under the wary gaze of Hil, his large, lion-like body size exerted an immense pressure.
This menacing approach made Hil retreat repeatedly.
Like a maiden cornered by a villain, Hil quickly found herself against the reflective ice wall with nowhere else to go. She shook her petite head angrily at Garon, growling lowly and assuming a defensive and threatening posture, revealing her tender, pearly teeth.
White dragonlings are generally not very intelligent, ranking the lowest among the evil dragons. Even with access to the dragon legacy, they often act more on beast-like instinct than rational thought.
As they age, their intelligence gradually increases. By the juvenile phase, it reaches a level comparable to that of humans, and most adult white dragons can use magic, possessing enough intellect to become formidable sorcerers.
But Hil was still at a gullible stage, easily fooled.
"Don't blink, dragon sister, I'll show you a treasure."
Garon shook his clenched claw and slowly extended it. His obvious movement captured Hil's attention, and she looked down at his claw as he had hoped.
Then, with the speed of lightning, Garon jerked his head back, his neck stretched like a drawn bow, and then suddenly slammed it forward.
Bang!
A crisp, powerful sound echoed through the nest. Thanks to the highly reflective ice walls, the sound reverberated like a valley echo, lingering long after the impact. The still-shaking eggs seemed to be stimulated by the noise, shaking even more intensely, likely speeding up their hatching.
Across from him, Hil collapsed in silence, limbs slack and eyes rolling back as she was knocked unconscious by Garon's headbutt.
Dragonkind is incredibly resilient; a mere headbutt posed no danger to Hil. Garon had controlled his strength, and at most, she would be out for half an hour.
"Hil, life as a dragon is perilous. You must not be so easily deceived in the future," Garon solemnly lectured the unconscious
Hil, showing no remorse for his actions.
Excitedly rubbing his claws together, Garon quickly ran towards the treasure pile deeper in the nest.
"The first obstacle has been smoothly navigated. Now for the second: making the theft unnoticed by the white dragon mother."
Garon looked up at the treasure that could bury him, his platinum eyes reflecting a sinister gleam.
He took a deep breath, his mind working at high speed.
Dragons have excellent memories; even ancient dragons who have lived for thousands of years can vividly recall every creature they've hunted, every sky they've flown, every forest they've walked, and every stone they've chewed in exquisite detail.
With such photographic memory combined with their greedy fascination with treasure, dragons meticulously keep track of their hoards. Even the disappearance of the least conspicuous gem would be noticed.
Considering all this, Garon carefully concluded that to deceive the white dragon mother and avoid her wrath, he must meet several conditions:
1. The target gemstone must be isolated at the bottom of the pile, not supported by or touching other stones, as moving it could likely trigger a chain reaction.
2. A similar-looking substitute is needed to fill the gap left by the taken gemstone.
"The isolated gemstone at the bottom."
Garon's eyes darted through the treasure pile, quickly locking onto his target—a diamond-shaped white crystal at the edge of the left side of the treasure mound, the size of an infant's fist, which was particularly enticing to him.