My Slain Dragon Bride

Chapter 250. Contact

Valdrova had turned into a huge rose.

All they had done was make eye contact...

It wasn’t as though they hadn’t made eye contact many times before.

But Ferda had never imagined that the sight beyond a single mask could feel so unfamiliar and so exposed.

In the end, Valdrova closed her eyes.

However, her closing her eyes only stimulated Ferda’s feelings even more.

The distinct lines of her tightly closed eyelashes were clearly visible, making the contours of her face even more pronounced.

Her pale skin and small, delicate lips.

She became a forbidden fruit that Ferda could not reach with his hands, tempting him.

It felt as though a powerful wave of desire had swept over Ferda.

Ferda crossed the line once more.

He placed his hand on Valdrova’s face.

Valdrova’s body flinched at the sudden sensation.

Her body had gone stiff as stone, yet Ferda’s fingers slowly traced along her jawline, taking in every detail of her.

Valdrova’s body trembled.

It was only the touch of a hand, yet the pounding of her heart grew more violent.

If this continues, I might die.

Both of her hands reflexively tried to push Ferda’s hand away.

She wanted to put an end to this frightening and unfamiliar situation.

But the hands that were supposed to push him away only reached her own chest.

Instead of pushing him away, she tried to suppress her trembling body.

But that alone wasn’t enough.

Ferda’s hand, which had been tracing her jawline, gradually became bolder.

From the hard line of bone beneath her skin, his fingers moved upward toward her cheek, where he could feel the softness of her flesh.

He gently pressed down and released.

As her skin bounced back with elasticity, a pleasant fragrance clinging to her skin wafted out softly.

Ferda knew this sensation.

It feels exactly as I imagined it would...

The hallucination he had experienced when he was trapped together with the Armored Knight.

The Valdrova he had encountered in that hallucination had felt exactly like this.

If he held her properly, she would probably be incredibly soft.

If he had confirmed even that sensation, perhaps he would have realized that the experience had been real.

But he did not.

Like a camel sticking its head into a tent, desire gradually prodded deeper and deeper into Ferda’s heart.

His instincts wanted more than merely touching her cheek, and that desire was reflected in his eyes.

Two pieces of finely polished red jade.

The distinct sense of elasticity.

He was curious.

He simply wanted to know what kind of sensory pleasure that tiny thing could provide.

Her trembling lips parted, revealing her pearly white teeth.

"Mr. Ferda..."

At the sound of her voice, Ferda’s movements stopped.

Only then did he notice that his Red Circle was spinning violently.

"Yes."

"I... I didn’t say you could... touch me that much..."

"Ah..."

Only then did Ferda withdraw his hand.

His hand seemed to have nowhere to go, leaving behind only a sense of regret.

"Uuugh..."

She covered her flushed face and lowered her head deeply.

Ferda apologized to her.

"I’m sorry. I committed a discourtesy without realizing it."

Her lips were tightly bitten, and her eyes looked as though she might cry at any moment.

The expression filled with resentment and jealousy was frightening, yet strangely adorable.

She seemed to think about something before speaking.

"...I’ll touch you."

"What?"

"I... I’ll touch you too. It’s not like only Mr. Ferda is the one who has desires."

Her fingers fidgeted.

She spoke as though she intended to be selfish, but her hands seemed to be waiting only for permission.

Ferda quietly nodded.

"All right."

"C-close your eyes."

"Must I?"

"I’m embarrassed."

"All right."

Ferda closed his eyes.

Because he could no longer see, his other senses became sharper.

Or perhaps he was simply imagining things?

He could feel a gaze observing him—something he would never have been able to tolerate under normal circumstances.

He felt as though he now understood what Valdrova had felt.

Being seen like this was so agonizing and difficult, yet at the same time, so thrilling.

A soft sensation touched Ferda’s chin.

Small and warm.

A faint scent of roses lingered in the air.

The tips of her fingers clearly revealed what they were feeling.

"It’s... a little rough here. Is it a scar?"

"It’s stubble. I shaved before coming here, but I suppose some of it remained."

"So Mr. Ferda grows a beard too."

"I’m a man, after all."

"I see. Mr. Ferda’s stubble..."

She seemed to like the roughness, because she touched it several times while letting out a soft, amused giggle.

"It’s fascinating."

She said.

"It’s definitely the same face I see every day, but touching it like this makes it feel completely different. Is this why Mr. Ferda liked touching my face so much?"

The voice that had been chattering nonstop suddenly disappeared.

Ferda could no longer tell what she was doing.

What is she trying to do?

He cautiously opened his eyes.

Her eyes looked as though she had been bewitched.

Her fingers were resting near Ferda’s lips.

When her eyes met Ferda’s, her face once again flushed as red as the Aspect of Fire.

"I-I told you not to open your eyes..."

"I’m sorry."

In the end, their attempt to touch each other’s lips was left unfinished, and an awkward atmosphere settled between them.

Valdrova’s face was bright red as she firmly declared,

"No more touching faces."

"...Understood."

It felt as though the sky had fallen.

Perhaps understanding Ferda’s feelings, she added,

"I want to do something less embarrassing than that."

"What would that be?"

"That is..."

Valdrova said,

"You remember how I tried to hug you when we first met, Mr. Ferda?"

Ferda remembered it clearly.

His expectations had been just as great as the disappointment that followed.

"Yes."

"Actually, when I met Mr. Ferda, I wanted to hug you first of all... but the timing..."

The timing.

Ferda thought of the nobles who had accompanied him.

They seem to be useless except for the development of the Far East.

"If they’re making you uncomfortable, I’ll throw them out right now."

"W-what? N-no, you don’t have to do that! It’s already in the past."

Because she stopped him, Ferda sat back down.

"I told Penelope that I wanted to hug Mr. Ferda..."

"Yes."

"And then Penelope made something good for me."

"...I’m really looking forward to it."

"You are, right?"

What the hell did that demon make?

Depending on what it was, Ferda intended to decide whether to kill her horribly or mercifully.

Unaware of his thoughts, Valdrova carefully showed Ferda the item Penelope had made.

Four rubber spheres.

"She said it’s a puncture-prevention device specifically for Valdrova."

"...I see."

"If I put these on my head like this..."

Pop, pop, pop, pop.

"Ta-da! My sharp horns disappear."

She looked extremely proud of herself.

Looking at her, Ferda thought to himself.

Wouldn’t her horns pierce through it anyway if Valdrova used her strength?

But she looked so insignificant and adorable that Ferda was more than satisfied with the sight.

"Now I can hug Mr. Ferda. So..."

Valdrova stood up.

Bathed in the warm glow of the sun sinking toward the west, she spread her arms.

"...Will you hug me?"

Ferda couldn’t refuse.

He stood and carefully pulled her into his arms.

A soft sensation pressed against his chest.

This might be the most useful thing that damned demon has ever invented.

Valdrova’s arms wrapped around Ferda’s waist.

She wasn’t applying any force.

Ferda thought that perhaps Valdrova didn’t like tight embraces.

So Ferda merely held her lightly as well.

"Tighter..."

Valdrova whispered into his ear.

"I can’t hug Mr. Ferda properly..."

Only then did Ferda become certain.

Valdrova had always been thinking the same things he was.

"Please hug me... as much as I wanted to see you."

Ferda pulled her into a tight embrace with all his strength.

Even if those horns pierced through that soft mass of rubber and left another wound across his chest, he was prepared to endure it.

***

The Silverwind stronghold, located in the Far Northern Region of the Cerdes Continent.

Silverwind had built a fortress there both as a stronghold for his Dragon Spawn and as a fortress to hold back the Frost Giants.

The fortress had stood for more than a thousand years, remaining steadfast even now as powerful winds raged around it.

Two Dragon Spawn were on guard duty in a watchtower.

One stood looking out into the snowstorm raging outside the tower, while the other read a book with a staff resting across his shoulder.

"Yaaawn, I’m so bored I’m gonna die."

"Stand guard properly, idiot."

"Dragon Spawn have their pride, don’t we? Why should we have to stand guard?"

"You think I’m standing here with you because I don’t have any pride?"

"True. Even Captain Percival is standing guard..."

Though he seemed to accept the explanation, his face was still full of dissatisfaction.

"I’m getting pretty senior now. I hope we get some new recruits soon. What do you think, Captain?"

"I wouldn’t mind having some underlings."

"Shouldn’t we start recruiting warriors soon? We’ve lost quite a few comrades to the Frost Giants..."

Back when Silverwind was still alive, many candidates had been selected as warriors and driven beyond the barrier of the Far East, and just as many had died.

It was called Silverwind’s Forging.

Now that the number of Dragon Spawn was no longer increasing, they could no longer use the methods of the past.

Dragon Spawn could only be created by dragons.

"Isn’t Chief Goz practically our father now?"

"That’s how it is."

"If Chief Goz can’t create Dragon Spawn, doesn’t that mean he hasn’t completely absorbed Lord Silverwind’s Essence?"

"..."

"Then doesn’t that mean he’s unqualified to be the owner of the Essence, and therefore has no right to rule over us?"

The atmosphere suddenly turned cold.

"Well, maybe."

Percival, who had his staff resting across his shoulder, sighed and closed his book.

He stood up and asked him,

"So, can you beat him?"

"What?"

"Can you defeat Chief Goz with your own strength?"

"How could I possibly defeat Captain?"

Wham!

Percival’s staff slammed into the man’s face.

It was so fast that he didn’t have even the slightest chance to react.

"Then watch your damn mouth. Even if Chief Goz couldn’t become a true dragon, he was once the second-in-command. He shed—and made others shed—enough blood to forge a river for the sake of that position. He’s not someone the likes of you can casually look down on."

"Ugh, s-sorry..."

"There won’t be another warning. The moment I hear that you’ve made a statement like this again, I’ll tear your head off with my own hands. Understand?"

"I’ll remember that."

Percival looked at the man whose face was covered in blood and thought,

I’ve really become merciful.

In the old days, making such a statement would have been no different from declaring that you wanted to fight, and the matter would not have ended until one of them was dead.

Now that they could no longer forge warriors by recruiting large numbers and allowing large numbers to die, whether they liked it or not, mercy was necessary.

And I have to spend the entire day with someone like this.

Percival sighed.

Almost immediately after that thought crossed his mind, their sharp senses detected something.

"Captain."

"Yeah. I felt it."

A sign of life.

However, it was coming toward them from the east rather than from the Far Northern Region, where Frost Giants were abundant.

Judging by its speed, it seemed to be walking toward them.

That was strange.

With that level of power, flying would surely have been better than walking.

It also meant that whoever was approaching knew whose land this was and was showing proper respect to its owner.

At last, the figure approaching through the fierce snowstorm came into view.

"Stand back."

Percival said this.

"I’ll assist..."

"Even the two of us can’t stop her, so stay where you are."

The man gripped his staff and descended from the tower in a combat stance.

The man serving as his second-in-command stared blankly at his back.

It was the first time he had ever seen someone who was usually so relaxed and seemingly bothered by everything become this tense.

Percival quietly waited below to receive the visitor.

Silver hair.

Silver eyes.

And a silver-steel weapon that could only be possessed by a descendant of Silverwind.

Yet there was no way a young girl could have been among Silverwind’s descendants, considering that his selection process allowed only sturdy men to become descendants.

And above all,

There was no way such a young girl could have come here emitting Dragon Fear, something even Dragon Spawn could not produce.

But Percival knew.

There was exactly one exceptional existence who could do so.

".......Luri."

"Percival."

They exchanged brief greetings.

Percival was the first to ask,

"What business brings you here? I believe Chief Goz made himself perfectly clear last time."

"....."

"Judging by the fact that you’re wearing that maid uniform, it doesn’t look like you’re planning to return to Silverwind’s embrace... If that had been your intention, you wouldn’t have come here emitting such killing intent."

"..."

"Do you have business with the Chief again?"

"Yes."

"What if I refuse to let you through?"

"....."

She did not say much.

Luri had already made up her mind.

In the midst of their silent standoff, it was Percival who finally broke the silence.

"Whether then or now, I can’t think of any way I could defeat you. Even when I was prepared to kill you, all you ever did was intend to subdue me."

"....."

"If you’ve come prepared to shed blood this time... then I suppose I should step aside."

"Thank you, Percival."

Luri bowed politely.

To someone who shared the bloodline of Silverwind, such behavior felt unfamiliar.

"Still, let me ask you one thing. Are you going to Chief Goz to...?"

"I’m going to ask him for a favor."

"What favor? Are you going to propose that ridiculous peace agreement again, like last time?"

"No."

"Then..."

Percival immediately understood.

He knew what kind of resolve had brought her here while releasing Dragon Fear.

"...You could die."

"I know."

Goz was merciless and showed no restraint.

Luri, who had once endured his overwhelming violence firsthand, knew that better than anyone.

"That’s why I have to go."

Luri passed over Percival’s shoulder and said,

"He’s the one who made me into a warrior."

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