“Take Shargein, for example.” Salaark caressed the Wyrmling’s head. “The scales and feathers he was born with were produced by a red core. There’s no way they can handle the mana flow he’ll develop once he reaches the cyan.

“When that happens, Shargein will shed his old scales and grow new ones that will match his current mana core.”

“I first became a hybrid five years ago.” Lith said while clenching his hands to resist the urge to scratch himself. “Should I expect to shed again in another five years?”

“Don’t be silly.” Salaark chuckled. “You spent three years as a hybrid, and those were proto-scales you shed and replaced with each breakthrough of your mana core. You only became a Divine Beast a little less than two years ago.

“I’m honestly surprised you didn’t shed sooner. You went from deep to bright violet with a single set of scales. That’s an impressive achievement, if you ask me.”

“Thanks, I guess.” Lith couldn’t keep his hands still and started rubbing his arms. “What should I do now, Grandma? I’m going crazy.”

“That’s because you are standing there like an idiot asking all the wrong questions.” Salaark replied. “Go to a place large enough to accommodate your Tiamat form, undress, and let nature take its course.”