Hungry Dragon Mida

A fierce battle raged below.

But in Mida's eyes, it was no different from ants crawling on the ground.

The blood-red barrier enveloping the village was nothing more than a trivial illusion to her.

Her massive dragon form pressed down without any need for finesse, and the barrier shattered like a freshly baked wafer, crumbling with a crisp crack.

It offered even less resistance than an actual wafer—because if it were a wafer, Mida might have taken a bite or two.

At the village entrance, Old Cody, who had been maintaining the barrier, coughed up blood from the magical backlash, his eyes brimming with disbelief.

"Impossible! Why would the Snow God descend upon a place like this? How could this happen?"

Yet the undeniable reality lay before him.

It felt like a teenager bullying a child playing in the mud, only for a towering adventurer wielding a door-sized broadsword to suddenly appear, demanding a duel.

The gap between them was far too vast.

And Old Cody couldn't fathom any reason for the Snow God to intervene.

...

That crimson creature looked utterly repulsive, reeking of blood—a stench so foul it made Mida's nose wrinkle. Without a second thought, she flash-froze him solid.

Mida glanced around the house, then suddenly twitched her nose, catching a familiar scent.

It was the cured sausage Wolund had brought her before.

"Do you have any sausages here?" Mida asked.

It wasn't her fault her keen nose picked it up—the merchant caravan had just restocked spices, and Anana's mother happened to be curing extra meat into sausages, filling the house with a rich aroma.

Anana stood frozen, barely registering the question. After all, Mida's sudden appearance was beyond shocking.

Anyone staring straight into an eye that large would have their brain short-circuit momentarily.

"Do you have sausages?" Mida repeated.

"Y-yes... we do," Anana stammered in panic.

Mida slowly straightened up. Just as Wolund had said, communicating like this was inconvenient. She felt like she was hunched over, peering into an anthill... and with all these cramped houses around, moving was a hassle.

Through the collapsed wall, Anana finally got a full view of Mida.

A magnificent azure dragon, her scales forged from dazzling ice crystals, shimmered under the moonlight.

Her slender, elegant form radiated both grace and undeniable power.

"So beautiful..." Anana murmured, entranced.

Then, the dragon vanished. In her place stood a girl who looked only slightly older than Anana, stepping into the house.

Only the glimmering ice-like dress gave away her true identity.

Mida glanced at the frozen monster inside, frowned at its unsightly appearance, and flicked a finger. The ice sculpture shattered into glittering dust.

She then extended her hand to Anana. "Sausage."

Anana rushed to the kitchen, snatched a hanging sausage from the beam, and hurried back to hand it over.

Mida nodded in satisfaction and turned to leave.

"Wait! Your Grace!" Anana suddenly called out. "You're so powerful... could you save my father?"

Hearing this, Anana's mother gently laid her husband down and knelt before Mida.

"Great Snow God! Please, have mercy—save Anlier! We'll do anything!"

Anlier's condition was dire. Blood and broken organ fragments spilled from his lips; his breaths were shallow. Even a high-tier healer would have given up.

"You're just a weak human. What could you possibly offer me?" Mida scoffed.

While she feared her mother, no one else could command her to lift a finger.

"Mother makes sausages!" Anana suddenly lunged forward, wrapping her arms around Mida. "Please save my father! I'll give you anything..."

She pulled a pendant from her neck.

"This is my most precious treasure—take it!"

Mida barely registered the rest.

Only the first sentence stuck: "Mother makes sausages."

"Well, you're not completely useless," Mida muttered, eyeing the pendant.

The gem embedded in it was low-grade, not even worthy of a snack.

But it carried a faint trace of Wolund's aura.

Fine, I'll help. I do mess with Wolund a lot...

That said, Mida didn't know any healing magic.

She conjured a jade vial filled with pale green liquid.

As she uncorked it, an overwhelming vitality filled the air. Just a whiff made Anana's cells tremble with hunger.

It was sap from the World Tree—diluted. Her mother had given her some, warning her to use it sparingly.

Honestly, Mida wasn't sure if it would work on a half-dead human... but it should. Her mother had used it to patch her up after training sessions.

She poured the elixir over Anlier's caved-in chest.

Flesh regenerated at a visible pace. Within moments, the ghastly wound sealed, and Anlier's breathing steadied.

Mida had planned to empty the vial, but a quarter was enough—any more, and the surge of life force might have burst his body.

Now that it was opened, the elixir would lose potency over time... No point wasting it.

So, between bites of sausage, Mida chugged the rest like a bedtime drink.

Anana and her mother gaped at the unconventional "treatment" but didn't dare interrupt.

Finally, after a satisfied burp that echoed like a dragon's roar, Anlier stirred awake.

"What... happened?" He sat up, feeling unnaturally energized, as if he could wrestle a bear.

"Anlier!"

"Father!"

Wife and daughter flung themselves at him.

Mida yawned lazily.

Food coma setting in.

Plus, it was late—way past her usual bedtime.

Good dragons didn't stay up too late. Mother's rules.

Bad things happened if she did...

Without ceremony, she flopped onto Anana's bed and curled up.

Soon, soft, steady snores filled the room.