The Blue Dragon Clan’s Very Suspicious Little Chick - Chapter 4

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 4

A few days later.
Aran woke to a warm but rather crude hand prodding at her.
“Chirp…?”
(Mother, why do you keep poking me while I’m sleeping…?)
For days now there had been this constant fussing, so naturally she’d assumed it was Cheong Un.
As she sluggishly lifted her eyelids, a face like the moon bloomed suddenly into view.
A nameless intruder gazed down at Aran and bowed courteously. The morning sunlight that had been hidden by her massive frame finally broke through to Aran’s eyes.
Then came a voice that made Aran flinch with its sheer volume.
“Good morning, little mistress!”
“Eek! Chirp!”
(Heavens! Did someone stuff a trumpet down my throat—why is her voice so impossibly loud?!)
“Oh, was my voice too loud? I suppose it’s just a habit from my days of shouting commands at the Training Ground, haha!”
Yet her booming laughter remained every bit as thunderous as before.
Aran wished she could stretch out even a single feather—though she had none yet—to cover her ears.
The attempt backfired immediately.
“My, my goodness!”
Startled—!
The next exclamation sent Aran’s whole body trembling.
And for some reason, the intruder’s frame shook as well.
“S-so adorable…!”
“Squeek…!”
(Keep your voice down, you’ll rupture my ears…!)
The intruder seemed at last to understand Aran’s irritated cry, for she stepped back and asked quietly.
“Is my voice still too loud?”
Then, finally lowering her tone, she introduced herself.
“Allow me to introduce myself! I am the Right Training Master of Cheongryong Clan—Seong Sorim!”
By Aran’s standards, it was still loud enough…
“Peep?”
(Training Master? That’s like a drill instructor, isn’t it? What business do you have with me…?)
The Training Master Seong Sorim, who couldn’t understand a word the baby dragon said, somehow managed to answer Aran’s unspoken question at once.
“I’ve heard that young creatures of all kinds must learn to walk, run, and fly from someone else. But dragons, you see, walk of their own accord the moment they’re born, so Cheongryong Clan has never had need of a nursemaid for the young mistress!”
“…Chirp?”
(And so…?)
“That’s why I’ve come!”
“Peep?”
(Why you?)
“Because I’m the very best teacher in all of Cheongryong Clan! Ahahaha!”
Now that Aran thought about it, Sorim’s voice seemed to rise in pitch whenever she grew flustered.
Good grief, what a racket.
She didn’t need a nursemaid—had Cheong Hwi not passed that along?
What was Cheong Un even thinking, arranging something so pointless?
A nursemaid—I really despise the idea of one!
Determined to prove she needed no nursemaid at all, Aran grunted and pushed herself upright.
She braced her tiny talons and steadied her spindly legs beneath her.
“Squeak-ay!”
(Look upon this magnificent form of mine!)
Since waking early with a sudden burst of vigor, Aran seized the chance to take her first wobbly steps into this new life all by herself.
Nearly two weeks old now, she’d managed to walk a full week sooner than she had in her past existence.
See? With proper care, even I can do it…!
“Goodness!”
Yet somehow Aran’s effort and achievement only seemed to birth an even more spectacular misunderstanding.
Seong Sorim’s eyes grew wet with tears, her fingertips trembling.
“So it’s true? That I, the greatest Training Master Seong Sorim, got the young mistress to take her first steps the moment we met?”
“Peep, chirp?”
(What? That can’t be right? What did you even do?)
The woman who’d seemed to understand her somewhat—where had she gone?
Seong Sorim, oblivious to Aran’s exasperation, continued gushing with emotion.
“In truth, when the Clan Head asked me to take charge of such a young lady, I was uncertain and declined several times. But the Clan Head—a figure as magnificent as the Reincarnation of the Blue Dragon itself—assured me that I was Cheongryong Clan’s finest teacher, and so……” She caught her breath.
“Chirp?”
(Wait? You’re crying?)
Seong Sorim wiped her eyes with one palm the size of a pot lid, exaggerating her emotion, then slowly dragged her hand across her chest as if trembling.
She then pressed both palms together gently and lowered them to Aran’s feet.
“Well then, Young Lady, shall we go see Cheongryong Palace now?”
Aran tilted her head, studying those sturdy-looking palms.
“Chirp……?”
(Hmm……? Was I actually free to leave whenever I wanted?)
She’d assumed they’d locked her up temporarily until her identity was confirmed and her treatment decided.

***

The warm early-summer Garden.
“One, two! One, two! Our little Chirpy is doing splendidly!”
Aran waddled along in time with Seong Sorim’s booming cadence, but the sheer embarrassment flushed both her cheeks crimson.
Thank goodness for the down feathers—at least she had something to hide behind.
Chirpy, of all names. Far too mortifying. I’ll have to find a moment to tell her my real name.
“Chirrrr…….”
(Please, just keep quiet for once, Instructor. It’s nothing remarkable that I’m walking—why must you broadcast it so shamelessly?)
How could all eyes not turn toward such a spectacle?
Palace attendants gathered one by one, clapping as they watched Aran’s first steps.
“My goodness, is this the rumored youngest lady? How adorable! But hasn’t it been quite some time since her Hatching?”
A younger attendant’s curiosity prompted an older one to answer.
“Birds are naturally slow walkers, I’ve heard.”
“Goodness! You mean she’s been lying down all this time? How terribly boring that must have been!”
Aran turned back, flabbergasted.
“Chirp! Chirp!”
(Boring? I’ve done nothing but sleep!)
Still, she couldn’t remain dependent on a cradle forever—the walking practice was necessary.
Aran hardened her resolve.
Though Seong Sorim was no vermillion bird and hardly seemed useful, there was something not entirely unpleasant about having someone to train alongside for once.
Aran had lived alone for years before the world fell apart.
Seong Sorim crouched before her, crawling in an exaggerated squat-walk, clapping like a gong with theatrical vigor.
“Two, two, three, four! That’s it! Young Lady, you’re doing splendidly!”
Aran, who had never once received such wholehearted encouragement in her young life, felt utterly lost for how to carry herself.
As she pressed through this embarrassing first-steps practice, a familiar voice suddenly rang out.
“What? You can walk, little Chirpy?”
It was Cheong Hwi—her only real link to communication.
Aran startled and stumbled.
“Chirp!”
Because in that young master’s presence, careful speech was essential.
“Oh, little Chirpy!”
Cheong Hwi rushed over and scooped Aran up before Seong Sorim could.
Seong Sorim bowed apologetically.
“I—I beg your pardon, Young Master! The Young Lady was walking so vigorously just a moment ago…….”
Regardless, Cheong Hwi was too busy gently moving each of Aran’s thin legs one at a time, examining them on his palm.
“We must be careful, Instructor. Look at these legs. The slightest misstep and they’d snap clean off.”
What? My legs are fine!
That’s what Aran thought, but the sounds that emerged were meek as anything.
“Chirp-chirp.”
(They’re all right. Sorry for worrying you.)
“Are you really sure?”
Aran watched the thin furrow deepen between his handsome brows like a river mark, and felt what little conscience she possessed stir awake.
She nodded earnestly, and Cheong Hwi glanced at Seong Sorim, who stood like a criminal awaiting sentence.
“Instructor, she says she’s fine. In fact, she’s apologizing for worrying you. Isn’t she remarkably kind, even at such a tender age?”
“Is that truly so?”
Seong Sorim released a relieved sigh.
“How I wish I understood Sign Language. The Young Lady has said so much to me in her room……!”
No, that’s not it.
Aran barely restrained the urge to shake her head.
“I didn’t understand a word of it! Yet Miss understood my meaning perfectly and took her first steps because of me.”
Remarkably, Cheong Hwi seemed to believe Seong Sorim’s nonsense entirely.
“The Training Master is the best, as always!”
He set Aran back down on the ground with a pleased expression.
Aran decided to let Seong Sorim keep her clever misunderstanding. Compared to a dragon who thought she was its mother, this was nothing.
Just as she was thinking this, a loud crash echoed from somewhere nearby.
Then came a strange cry, drawing closer——
“Kee-wooooo!”
What? What in the world was that sound?
In the instant Aran tilted her head at this peculiar noise she’d never heard once in her hundred years of life——
Thud-thud-thud-thud-thud-thud, crash!
The impact sent her body flying upward, stars streaking across her vision before darkness swallowed everything in an instant.
As consciousness faded, Aran found herself thinking.
Is this it? Is this the moment?
Dark Warrior, are you taking me now?
The Cheongryong Clan’s Rather Suspicious Chick — Chapter 4
E-book Release Date | 2026.08.05

Author | Ravioli
Publisher | Odd Eye
Submissions/Inquiries | [email protected]

UCI | G720:N+A101-20260722065.0004
List Price | Not for Sale

ⓒ Ravioli 2026

This e-book is protected under copyright law.
This e-book is published by contract with the author and may not be reprinted, reproduced, distributed, or shared without written consent from both parties.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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