Second happy occasion in our household after Dong-i.
I was grinning so hard my cheeks hurt when Yeondu followed up with an apology.
“Shaa. ‘I’m sorry, So-ryong. To do this all of a sudden in a place like this... I didn’t know I was going to lay eggs.’”
I hurried over, stroked Yeondu’s head, and said:
Because this was absolutely not sothing to apologize for.
If anything, it deserved praise.
“No, it’s okay. It’s okay. You don’t need to apologize. It’s possible not to know, it really is. The first ti, you often don’t know.”
For animals, reproduction lives in the realm of instinct, but that doesn’t an everyone is good at it.
Reproduction ans everything from mating to giving birth to raising the young, and even if it’s instinct, it’s extrely rare for anyone to do every part well from the very first ti.
Even among mammals like dogs, so are adept from the start—biting off the umbilical cord, tearing the amniotic sac, and licking the newborn clean—while others are not.
There are those who don’t even realize they’ve given birth and, when the babies arrive, are so startled they don’t know what to do.
And there are ones who just aren’t good at caring for their young.
It’s the sa with reptiles: so lay their eggs in a perfect spot where the babies can hatch safely, and others, being inexperienced ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) at first, lay eggs in all the wrong places.
When you raise animals, that sort of thing happens from ti to ti.
Kids that lay eggs right on the bare bottom of a rearing tub or so other place where they can’t possibly hatch.
So like Yeondu said, it was possible she didn’t realize she was about to lay.
It was her first ti laying eggs.
She might not have recognized that her body being ready to lay—was actually that.
People don’t always realize they’re pregnant either; their belly cos out and they just think they’ve gained weight—what’s the point of saying more?
“I had a buddy like that—beca a dad right after graduation. Little punk.”
This was less Yeondu’s mistake and, in a way, more mine.
I’d literally seen them mating the other day; I should’ve been on top of things.
With a mature female snake, once mating happens and the male’s sperm enters her body, fertilization takes place inside the oviduct.
Then eggs begin to form in the female’s oviduct.
That usually takes a month or two.
Once the eggs mature and settle inside the body, it’s normal to lay them when the timing and conditions are right.
Knowing all that, I should’ve been checking in on Yeondu.
“You didn’t do anything wrong, Yeondu. Don’t say things like that. Okay?”
I was reassuring her—don’t worry, you did well—when it struck why she might have laid here of all places.
'Ah. She might have laid because she was away from everyone.'
Maybe she hadn’t noticed it herself, but with other spirit beasts all around, she’d been unconsciously delaying birth, and only when she found herself completely alone did the eggs co.
Snakes—reptiles in general—prefer to give birth in quiet, secluded places, alone.
Left alone inside a dark pavilion.
Rain outside giving just the right humidity.
Absolutely perfect for laying.
After she cald down, I asked:
“Yeondu, is it okay if I touch the eggs to check them?”
“Shaaa. ‘Of course, So-ryong. Please check if they’re healthy. It’s my first ti, so I’m worried.’”
I placed a hand on Yeondu’s eggs.
What t my fingers was that soft, pliant feel.
Snake eggs really are this squishy.
Unlike bird eggs, the surface is—what, kind of leathery?
You get that quintessential reptile-egg softness and toughness at once.
I examined them one by one; outwardly, nothing looked off.
For now, the eggs seed fine, but I still asked, worried:
“You’re not hurting anywhere, are you?”
The eggs seed okay; it was Yeondu I was worried about.
The poor girl flew a long distance without knowing she might lay.
Of course I was going to worry.
In human terms, it was like taking a friend at full term and running a long-distance marathon.
'So-ryong, you idiot!'
When I asked, her reply ca—still a little worrying.
“Shaa. ‘I do feel a bit drained, but I’m okay.’”
“Yeah? That won’t do. We need to call Cheong-yu Sojeo.”
“Shaaa. ‘I-It’s fine...’”
Snakes under the Gold-Crowned Serpent King draw strength from the King’s qi.
So we should get Cheong-yu Sojeo here quickly.
We might need her qi for Yeondu’s snake eggs to hatch, and she was the only one who could restore Yeondu’s depleted strength.
If Yeondu was weakened after laying, there was no alternative besides Cheong-yu Sojeo.
And before that, I decided to give the happy news to one of the parties directly involved.
“‘Orange, you there?’”
“Skka. (Yes, big brother? You called? What’s going on?)”
Orange completed his mind-link registration, but unless it’s sothing special, he doesn’t speak up in the group chat.
There are so many registered spirit beasts and people that he doesn’t want to add to the chaos.
So he only answers when called like this, and he responded to with a bewildered voice.
I asked him:
“‘Hey, Orange.’”
“Skka. (Yes?)”
“‘Haven’t you had any good dreams lately?’”
“Skk–ka? (Good dreams? Did I? Ah!)”
Just asking once and there it was—that shout like sothing clicked.
Then ca the answer: he’d clearly had a good dream.
It was perfect for the situation.
“‘You did?’”
“Skkkaaa. (Co to think of it, last night five pearls ca down from the sky and entered my chest. I thought it was a strange dream—how did you know I had it, big brother?)”
One casual question and Orange went and had himself a textbook conception dream.
If that isn’t a conception dream, what is?
I grinned and told him:
“‘Congrats, Orange. You’re a dad.’”
“Sska? (...Huh?)”
At first he didn’t get it—his voice went blank.
Judging from my wives’ silence, they didn’t quite catch on either.
So I raised my voice.
“‘I said you’re a dad! Yeondu laid eggs!’”
“S-s-s-ska. (Wh-whaaaat?)”
A voice that said he absolutely could not believe it.
“‘Oh my, Orange, congrats! Our Orange is a father now.’”
“‘Oh! Yeondu laid eggs?’”
“‘Orange, you’re an adult now.’”
While my wives showered him with congratulations, Orange spoke up, voice trembling:
“S-skka. (Y-Yeondu...)”
“Sha... (Yes...)”
“Skkkaa... (You worked hard... sniff thank you...)”
The news that he’d beco a father had hit him hard.
While everyone held their breath, waiting to hear Yeondu’s reply, she answered in a slightly shy voice.
“Shaaa. (I want to see you... gaga.)”
God.
Today the honey was just dripping all over the group chat.
'Sweet. Too sweet.'
***
“‘Cheong-yu Sojeo, I’m asking this of you.’”
“Sia. (Asking? This is obviously sothing I should go for.)”
“Skkkaa. (Yeondu, wait just a bit—I’m coming.)”
I asked Cho to bring Yeondu and Cheong-yu Sojeo.
We couldn’t pull too much combat power; this was the minimum.
The Martial Alliance’s advance was swift and going well, but who knew what variables might pop up.
Orange hadn’t seen the laying, but he absolutely had to see the hatching. And for the mother’s health and the babies’ hatching, we needed Cheong-yu Sojeo.
With Cheong-yu Sojeo there, they’d have no trouble finding the path or direction; getting here wouldn’t be an issue.
So I summoned the three and then chatted a bit with Hongbi outside the pavilion.
“Hongbi, do you have any tricks besides your poison?”
“Kkwaa. ‘Tricks?’”
“We need to find Zimjo as soon as possible, but even at best it’ll take Cho two days to get here, and we can’t just sit around and wait.
If you can guard Yeondu, I’m thinking of going out alone to search.”
We’d already lost about two days to Yeondu giving birth.
And it would take at least two more days for her wet-nurse-to-be Cheong-yu Sojeo and the father Orange to arrive.
We couldn’t just keep waiting like this.
That bad feeling kept pricking at , and our seniors we t last ti hadn’t said things were rosy either, so I needed to search before Cho’s party arrived—even if I had to do it alone.
But with Yeondu pregnant and the eggs here, I couldn’t just leave.
Yeondu herself is strong, but defending the eggs by herself might be tough.
So if Hongbi had so other trick, I was going to ask him to hold this place while I searched.
Hongbi peered up at , scratched his head, and said:
“Kkwaa. ‘Sorry. Other than that, I don’t really have any tricks.’”
He looked genuinely apologetic.
I waved both hands.
“No, I was just asking on the off chance. No need to be sorry.”
I’d only asked just in case; it was fine. Right then Hongbi said:
“Kkwaaa. ‘Then it’s probably best if I just hold the poison for a while.’”
“Hold your poison?”
“Kkwa. ‘Yeah. If I take the poison back in, doesn’t that solve the problem?’”
“No—first, you hate doing that, and second, there aren’t any termites here.”
Sure, if Hongbi got his poison back, that’d be reassuring as hell.
Concealed weapons or hard qi—anything that entered his domain would just vanish. If he parked himself at the entrance, nobody would get past him.
But I didn’t want to make him do sothing he hates that much.
He was literally scarred by that poison.
And there were no termites here to recharge him.
I was saying that when Hongbi looked at my waist and said:
“Kkwaaa. ‘I haven’t ntioned it, but it seems I can refill it another way. The poison, I an.’”
“Another way?”
So he didn’t have to eat just termites?
Surprised that he said he could eat sothing else, I noticed his eyes were fixed on my waist and he was smacking his lips.
The exact sa look he had when he couldn’t resist swallowing termites—staring at my belt like he couldn’t hold back.
“Kkwaaa. ‘Looks like I can eat that too. And that.’”
Following his gaze to my waist, I had the knuckle-guards there—the ones made from Cho’s, Hyang’s, and Bini’s cast-off shells.
The gloves I made when the kids molted for the first or second ti—treasures, really.
They’d gotten a bit small for to wear now, so I’d tied them to my waist with my trinkets, and that’s what he was looking at.
Then Hongbi’s eyes went to my clothes.
The outfit woven from Yo-hwa’s silk.
'Oh—no way!?'
In that instant, I felt like I finally understood why Hongbi bore the na “World-Destroying Golden Toad.”
Honestly, even if he “erased” a few ters around him, “World-Destroying Golden Toad” still sounded comically grandiose.
Like a regional hotshot swordsman picking up a title like “The Strongest Under Heaven.”
But right now I understood why that na stuck.
In South Arica, poison dart frogs vary in toxin by how they look—so just make your mouth burn, others kill you on ingestion—there’s a huge range.
So individuals in the sa population don’t have any poison at all.
That difference all cos down to what they eat.
In the wild, their diet is extrely diverse.
Termites make up the bulk, sure, but they also eat tiny crane flies, ants, mites, earthworms, snails—even baby scorpions and centipedes—an incredibly varied nu.
So depending on what they eat, their toxicity changes.
“You can eat all of those?”
Hongbi nodded.
He was a spirit beast, but one perched down at the spirit-beast ladder’s edge—feeding on termites and exhaling a poison that erased ters of space. If he ate the shell of a higher spirit beast like Cho, or Yo-hwa’s silk—what on earth would he beco?
Gooseflesh rippled over , and I shuddered.
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