Chapter 288 - 118: Dragon Descendant Warlock! Lynch Had a Child Out of Wedlock?

Chapter 288: Chapter 118: Dragon Descendant Warlock! Lynch Had a Child Out of Wedlock?

"Master Lynch, great victory! Gnolls, all, dead dead~! Lots of food! Lots of ale! Everyone, happy!"

It danced and gestured wildly, trying its best to convey to Fritz how grand the scene had been and how plentiful the food was.

Finally, it concluded, "Follow Master Lynch, have meat to eat, have ale to drink! Golden Fang, smart! Chose right!"

After passing out snacks and shooing away the noisy whelps, Golden Fang dug deep into his bundle and pulled out half a roasted chicken, carefully wrapped in wax paper, and a jug of ale, stuffing them both into Fritz’s hands.

It grinned at him, revealing its signature gold-capped canine tooth. "Brother, for you. Celebration, delicious!"

Fritz took the still-warm roasted chicken and the jug of ale. As he inhaled the enticing aroma, his Adam’s apple bobbed involuntarily.

A wave of indescribable emotion, a mix of gratitude and a sharp pang of bitterness, suddenly welled up in his heart.

"Thank you, thank you, Brother Golden Fang!" he said, his voice choking with emotion. He immediately tore off a chicken leg and took a huge bite.

The flavor of fat and spices exploded in his mouth, the tender chicken meat practically melting on his tongue.

He’d never tasted roasted chicken this delicious before.

After swallowing his first bite of chicken, he eagerly popped the wooden cork from the jug and tilted his head back, gulping down a large mouthful of ale.

A cool sensation instantly washed over him.

’How could this be crude ale? This is practically divine nectar!’

Fritz’s eyes lit up, and he immediately began to devour the meal, alternating between bites of chicken and gulps of ale. He consumed the half chicken and the jug of ale as fast as a whirlwind, finishing everything completely and even sucking the bones clean.

He let out a satisfied belch, feeling the exhaustion and hunger vanish completely.

"Brother Golden Fang, thank you so, so much..." he said, his voice filled with gratitude.

Golden Fang clapped him on the shoulder. "Thank me? Wrong. You should thank great Master Lynch! Food, ale, all are Master’s gift! Master, generous, merciful!" ℴℴ𝘮

Its eyes shone with adoration and gratitude.

"Yes, thank you, Lord Lynch," Fritz quickly agreed.

Just as Fritz was digesting his meal, savoring the long-lost feeling of contentment, a sudden commotion erupted from the "grand villa" next door.

First came the sharp cry of a female Kobold, followed by a flurry of panicked, noisy chatter in the Kobold tongue. It seemed an emergency had occurred.

Golden Fang’s expression changed in an instant, and he immediately charged over.

After a moment’s hesitation, Fritz hurried after him.

Taking long strides, he quickly reached the entrance to the neighboring mine tunnel, stooped over, and ducked inside.

The air in the mine tunnel was thick with a complex mix of smells. Several of Golden Fang’s "consorts" were huddled in a circle. In the middle, on a makeshift bed, lay a female Kobold with a hugely swollen belly, groaning in agony.

It turned out one of Golden Fang’s "beloved consorts" was going into labor.

At first, neither Fritz nor Golden Fang paid it much mind.

Kobolds are highly fertile. A litter of seven or eight is perfectly normal, and they recover quickly.

Previously, the Kobolds’ living conditions had been harsh, leading to a low overall birth rate and a terrifyingly high infant mortality rate. But now that they had plenty of food, it was possible for a single female to have two or three litters a year.

In fact, a female Kobold in another tunnel had given birth just two days ago.

Fritz assumed this was just another routine birth and prepared to return to his own chamber.

However, just as he turned to leave, he realized something wasn’t right. The female Kobold’s groans were growing more pained and shrill, and the crowd of onlookers seemed to be growing flustered.

Golden Fang had clearly realized it too. He anxiously pushed aside the onlookers and moved closer to investigate.

"AARGH!!"

Golden Fang let out a low growl.

Fritz moved closer for a look, and his heart sank as well.

A small, wet, scale-covered head was emerging from the female Kobold’s birth canal.

But the head... it was astonishingly large!

Compared to the head of a normal Kobold whelp, this one was larger by a few sizes, and its shape seemed slightly different as well.

The whelp’s head was so large that it was now stuck in the birth canal, unable to move.

"GRRROAR! AWOOOO—!" Golden Fang roared, suddenly jumping up and down after getting a clear look at the situation.

The expression on his face was complex—a mixture of extreme excitement and profound grief.

Some of the surrounding elder Kobolds seemed to understand what was happening and also began to clamor excitedly.

Fritz could only partially understand them, but between their scattered words in the common tongue and their excited tones, he managed to piece together the key information—

"Dragon Descendant!"

"It’s a Dragon Descendant whelp!"

Kobolds possess a minuscule trace of the Dragon Race’s bloodline, giving them an extremely small chance of producing a "Dragon Descendant"—a Kobold with an atavistic bloodline.

This was usually a blessing for the entire tribe, as it heralded the potential birth of a powerful Caster or leader.

But for the mother, it was a death sentence.

Because Dragon Descendant whelps were typically far larger than normal ones, their birth almost inevitably resulted in complications. Without effective intervention, the mother had virtually no chance of survival.

Golden Fang paced back and forth, torn. On one hand, he was ecstatic that the tribe would soon welcome a precious Dragon Descendant; on the other, he was grieving the impending loss of his mate.

The female Kobold’s breathing grew faint and her groans subsided, yet the whelp stuck in her birth canal showed no sign of emerging.

An unborn whelp is incredibly fragile. If this went on any longer, it wasn’t just the mother who would die—the infant would suffocate in the birth canal as well.