The Red Dragon Just Wants To Do As It Pleases

For David, transforming into other forms was now ridiculously easy.

For instance, at this very moment, witnessing the Shape Manipulation his sister had personally demonstrated, he instinctively felt a tinge of envy (Jealousy).

From that moment on, David had effectively gained this exclusive and convenient Silver Dragon ability.

If he wanted to shapeshift into the High Elf form like his father and sister, it was merely a matter of using Shape Manipulation.

However, being able to do something was one thing; whether it was worth doing was another.

David had previously taken an opportunity, excusing himself, to slip away from his father and Tania's sight to try it alone.

When he transformed into a High Elf, the degradation of his senses was less severe than he had initially imagined, remaining within an acceptable range.

After all, compared to humans, whose senses were generally average, High Elves possessed somewhat superior vision, smell, and hearing.

At the same time, David finally understood why Silver Dragons, despite their mutual disdain for Elves stemming from Pride, still loved to transform into High Elves. This was the reason: High Elves were likely the most practical humanoid form in the material plane.

But for David, it wasn't practical at all!

Over the years, he had also indirectly confirmed an academic issue long proven on Blue Star: that a being's emotions, thoughts, and even desires are constantly influenced by their physical body, particularly the endocrine system.

Originally a Red Dragon, when he transformed into a Silver Dragon through Jealousy, the most noticeable change was in Wrath; both its frequency of occurrence and its trigger threshold dropped significantly.

Sometimes, he couldn't even muster anger, which left David feeling rather frustrated.

It was like wanting to unleash a torrent of rage. If he were in his Red Dragon form, as soon as the thought emerged, it was as if a throng of crazed Daji Hakimis were suddenly licking his pectoral muscles, whispering seductively in his ear, "My lord, it's all their fault, turn them all into Burger Kings!"

But when he was in his Silver Dragon form, what appeared in his mind was Empress Jiang, holding a dagger and admonishing the king at the risk of her own life, "My lord, you must not do this!"

And when he transformed into a High Elf, unless subjected to strong external stimuli, he generally felt like a tomcat fresh from the pet clinic's neutering package, wearing an Elizabethan collar, tongue lolling listlessly. All that remained was the Arrogance in his heart, which felt more like the petulant pride of a tsundere.

Without the Authority continuously fueling the flames, even the slow construction of the 'theatrical version' of the Hall of Valor showed signs of halting.

Given this, why would anyone bother transforming? Especially for extended periods.

Indeed, Dragons, especially Red Dragons, possessed the ideal constitution for the Seven Sins Authority to flourish.

After conducting this research, David, already indifferent to Shape-Shifting Magic, became even less interested in transforming.

After all, he clearly understood that ensuring the continuous development of the Seven Sins Authority was the bedrock of his existence in this world. To halt his own 'development' for a slight convenience in action—that would be putting the cart before the horse, wouldn't it?

Moreover, he was still 'small'. His Northeastern Silver Gradation form was quite convenient for moving around within the High Elf city-states.

However, just as he embraced this thought and, unbeknownst to his father and Tania, entered the city to find lodging, reality delivered a swift slap to his face.

David had barely entered an inn, carrying his sister on his back and following his father, when his robust 'Dragon Island Silver Gradation' form immediately provoked exclamations and unease among the guests and staff.

Especially upon hearing Attilicia's request to check in, the slender, stern-faced High Elf clerk, though still smiling and lightly tapping his fingers on the counter, politely but firmly refused, "I'm sorry, but… Silver Dragon madam? We don't have a room suitable for your child's size."

"His stature is truly… well, I'm afraid our hotel's facilities can't accommodate your needs. Plus, it could easily inconvenience the guests who have already checked in. Why don't you try another hotel?"

Attilicia looked at the clerk, somewhat bemused, a flicker of disappointment and confusion in his eyes. Attilicia, who had possessed the Shape Control ability since leaving Dragon Island, was experiencing such an awkward situation for the first time. And the clerk's reasoning seemed sound enough.

Indeed, who would want to live with a dragon? Even a relatively gentle Silver Dragon? Considering David weighed well over half a ton, a mere rollover in his sleep could likely send him crashing through the floor, punching a hole into the room below.

However, despite the refusal, the Silver Dragon father maintained the politeness befitting his kind. He nodded to the Elf clerk—who had subtly held his head a little higher after refusing a dragon—and then left the hotel with David and Tania.

"Damn elves, looking down their noses at dragons!" David, quite displeased, had no patience for these long-eared folk and cursed outright.

Wrath flared. It was fortunate he was in his Silver Dragon form. Had he been a Red Dragon, he likely would have succumbed to Wrath, demolished this shabby hotel, and strung up that arrogant Elf clerk on the second-floor clothes rack.

"Don't be like that. It's true, I was inconsiderate..."

Before the Silver Dragon dad could finish, David cut him off, "Hey! Still defending that long-ear? No wonder Mom has you under her thumb your whole life!"

"What way is that to speak, child!" With his daughter Tania right there, and the Dragon Mother invoked, the Silver Dragon father felt his dignity sting.

But before David could retort this time, Tania's clear, firm voice chimed in, "Dad, you're just too polite. That hotel has vacant courtyards out back. The clerk simply didn't want to rent one to us."

"Ah... it's not..." Attilicia was about to use David's size as an excuse when he saw a grizzly bear Druid—apparently too lazy to revert to his humanoid form—leading several travel-stained companions past them and into the hotel. The Druid boomed in Elvish, "Zenasania! (Damn it all!) These bounty hunts are no job for Elves! Clerk, get us a private courtyard room and a spread like last time. And don't forget the honey!"

"Esteemed Druid Master! The Starlight Tree Hotel is at your service. May the Elven gods grant you peace. Please, come in." The smile on the Elf clerk, who had just refused a dragon, finally became animated and warm.

They might as well have hung a sign outside: 'No Dogs or Dragons Allowed.'

This, perhaps, was typical High Elf Pride.

"Perhaps... we should try another hotel?" Attilicia felt his face flush with embarrassment. Newly bankrupt, he was truly pinching pennies. But as a father, how could he let his son and daughter foot the bill?

Then, Attilicia, the former 'Diplomatic Envoy from Dragon Island to the New Continent of Granyel,' suddenly recalled a perfectly valid reason for their rejection: David's age... Because they could transform into High Elves, clerks would naturally assume they were adult dragons. But David was just a Silver Dragon whelp. What if he had an accident in the hotel? Could it escalate into a diplomatic incident?

While the dragon father was still trying to rationalize their rejection, his loaded son cut straight to the point, "What hotel? Let's just rent a detached home with a courtyard."

He'd initially considered buying a place outright, but the thought of a potential war on the New Continent made him wary of such a losing investment.

Seeing his Silver Dragon father sputtering, about to say something but momentarily speechless, David declared, "I'll pay."

Just as Attilicia managed a placating smile for his 'loaded' son, David added, "When we settle accounts, it'll be deducted from your share."

"...You ungrateful whelp!" Attilicia was furious.

He felt this unruly Red Dragon son of his would be the death of him.

Yet, his daughter Tania's face was flushed with delight, her giggles bright as she watched the daily squabble between her father and brother. The sight seemed to mesmerize countless Elven passersby.

With money smoothing the path, even Elven Pride seemed to melt. Upon hearing that Attilicia, this ostentatiously wealthy 'Silver Dragon Madam,' wished to rent a detached home in Dewensen—and for a minimum five-year contract at that—their usually polite yet frigid demeanor towards other races instantly transformed into a warm, friendly smile reminiscent of a gentle March spring.

They immediately and eagerly began showcasing available rental properties to David's family of three.