I Married the Dragon I Killed [Novel] Chapter 250

Chapter 250: Contact (Illustration)

Baldrova had turned into one enormous rose.

All they had done was make eye contact.

Surely they had done that countless times before.

But she had never imagined that the view from beyond a single mask could feel this unfamiliar and exposed.

In the end, Baldrova squeezed her eyes shut.

Yet seeing her close them only stirred Ferda even more.

The fine line of her tightly shut lashes stood out clearly, making the contours of her face even more vivid.

Her pale skin and small, delicate lips tempted him like forbidden fruit forever beyond his reach.

A wave of fierce desire seemed to crash over Ferda.

He crossed the line once more.

He placed a hand against Baldrova’s face.

Her body flinched at the sudden touch.

She had gone rigid as stone, yet Ferda’s fingers slowly traced the line of her jaw, taking her in bit by bit.

Baldrova trembled.

It was only a hand against her skin, and yet her heartbeat grew louder and louder.

‘At this rate, I might die.’

Both her hands moved on reflex, as if to push Ferda away.

She wanted to end this frightening, unfamiliar situation.

Yet those hands came to rest against her own chest instead.

Rather than push him away, she pressed them there, trying to suppress her trembling body.

It was nowhere near enough.

Ferda’s hand grew bolder as it moved along her jaw.

His fingers left the hard line of bone beneath her skin and moved up toward the softness of her cheek.

He pressed lightly, then let go.

The springy softness bounced beneath his fingertips, and the pleasant fragrance clinging to her skin drifted faintly into the air.

Ferda knew this sensation.

‘Exactly how I imagined it…’

It was the same as the illusion he had experienced while trapped together with the armored knight.

The Baldrova he had touched in that hallucination had felt just like this.

If he grasped her cheek properly, surely it would be incredibly soft.

If he confirmed even that sensation, perhaps he would finally believe that what he had experienced back then had been real.

But he did not.

Desire slipped deeper and deeper into Ferda’s heart, like a camel pushing its head into a tent.

His instincts wanted more than merely touching her cheek, and his gaze betrayed that hunger.

Two polished pieces of red jade.

The supple fullness was unmistakable.

He was curious.

He only wanted to know what sort of pleasure those tiny lips could offer to all five senses.

Those trembling lips parted, revealing white teeth.

“M-Mr. Ferda…”

Her voice stopped him cold.

Only then did he notice the Red Circle spinning violently.

“Yes.”

“Um… I-I didn’t say you could touch me that much…”

“Ah…”

Only then did Ferda remove his hand.

It seemed to have nowhere to go, leaving only reluctance behind.

“Uuuh…”

Baldrova covered her bright-red face and bowed her head deeply.

Ferda apologized.

“I am sorry. I seem to have committed a discourtesy without realizing it.”

Her tightly bitten lip and eyes that seemed on the verge of tears held both resentment and jealousy.

The expression was frightening and adorable at the same time.

After thinking for a moment, she said,

“…I want to touch you too.”

“Pardon?”

“I want to… touch you too. You’re not the only one who’s allowed to be greedy, Mr. Ferda.”

Her hands fidgeted.

She was trying to sound assertive, yet those hands looked as though they were merely waiting for permission.

Ferda quietly nodded.

“Very well.”

“C-Close your eyes.”

“Must I?”

“Because it’s embarrassing.”

“Understood.”

Ferda closed his eyes.

With his sight gone, everything else became clearer.

Or perhaps he simply started imagining things.

He could feel her gaze studying him in a way she normally never would have dared.

He thought he finally understood what Baldrova had felt.

Being seen so directly was painful, difficult, and strangely exciting all at once.

Something soft touched his chin.

Small and warm.

A faint scent of roses drifted from her.

The tips of her fingers made it painfully clear what she was feeling.

“Here… it’s a little rough. Is it a scar?”

“Stubble. I shaved before coming, but apparently some remains.”

“You grow a beard too, Mr. Ferda.”

“I am a man, after all.”

“I see. Mr. Ferda’s stubble…”

Apparently she liked the rough texture, because she touched it several more times, and he heard a soft, delighted laugh.

“How fascinating.”

She continued,

“I see your face all the time, but touching it like this makes it feel completely different. Is this why you liked touching my face so much, Mr. Ferda?”

Her constant chatter suddenly stopped.

Ferda could no longer tell what she was doing.

What was she trying to do?

Carefully, he opened his eyes.

Her gaze looked almost entranced.

One of her fingers hovered near his lips.

The instant their eyes met, Baldrova’s face flared red again, as though fire itself had taken form.

“I-I told you not to open your eyes…”

“My apologies.”

In the end, their attempt to touch each other’s lips was aborted, leaving an awkward silence behind.

Still bright red, Baldrova firmly declared,

“Touching faces is forbidden from now on.”

“…Understood.”

Ferda felt as though the sky had collapsed.

As if she understood exactly what he was feeling, Baldrova hurriedly added,

“I want to do something less embarrassing instead.”

“And what would that be?”

“Well…”

Baldrova hesitated before speaking.

“I tried to hug you when we first met again, remember?”

Ferda remembered it perfectly.

The greater his anticipation had been, the greater the disappointment.

“I do.”

“Actually, I wanted the very first thing I did when I saw you to be hugging you… but the timing…”

The timing.

Ferda remembered the nobles who had accompanied him.

Useless creatures, aside from their role in developing the Far East.

“If their presence inconvenienced you, I can throw them out immediately.”

“W-What? No! There’s no need for that! It’s already over.”

Since she stopped him, Ferda sat back down.

“I told Penelope that I wanted to hug you.”

“Yes.”

“And Penelope made something useful for me.”

“…I am suddenly very curious.”

“You are, aren’t you?”

What the hell had that damned demon invented this time?

Depending on the answer, Ferda intended to decide whether Penelope deserved a gruesome death or a merciful one.

Oblivious to his thoughts, Baldrova carefully showed him what Penelope had made.

There were four rubber spheres.

“They’re puncture-prevention covers made especially for me.”

“…I see.”

“If I attach them to my horns like this…”

Pop. Pop. Pop. Pop.

“Ta-da! The sharp horns disappear.”

She looked absurdly proud of herself.

Watching her, Ferda thought inwardly,

If Baldrova used even a little force, wouldn’t the horns pierce straight through the rubber anyway?

Still, she looked so ridiculous and adorable that Ferda was satisfied regardless.

“Now I can hug you, Mr. Ferda. So…”

Baldrova rose from her seat.

Warm sunlight from the setting western sun fell over her as she opened both arms.

“…Will you hug me?”

Ferda could not refuse.

He stood and carefully drew her into his arms.

Something soft pressed against his chest.

Perhaps this was the single most useful thing that damned demon had ever invented.

Baldrova wrapped her hands around Ferda’s waist.

There was no strength in them.

Ferda assumed she did not like tight embraces, so he merely held her lightly as well.

“Tighter…”

Baldrova whispered into his ear.

“I can’t hug you properly myself, so…”

Only then did Ferda become certain.

Baldrova had always been thinking the same things he had.

“As tightly as you missed me… hug me that much.”

Ferda pulled her against him with all his strength.

He was willing to risk those horns piercing through the soft rubber and carving another wound into his chest.

* * *

Silverwind’s stronghold stood at the northernmost reaches of the Serdes Continent.

Silverwind had built the fortress both as a citadel for his Dragon Spawn and as a bulwark against the Frost Giants.

It had stood for more than a thousand years, and even now, as fierce winds battered its walls, the fortress remained unshaken.

Two Dragon Spawn stood guard in one of the watchtowers.

One stared out at the raging blizzard, while the other rested a staff across his shoulders and read a book.

“Yaaawn. I’m bored to death.”

“Stand watch properly, idiot.”

“We’re Dragon Spawn. Don’t we have any pride? Why are we standing guard like common soldiers?”

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

“Well… Captain Percival is doing it too, I guess.”

Though he sounded convinced, dissatisfaction still covered his face.

“I’ve been around long enough by now. I’d really like some juniors under me. What about you, Captain?”

“Sure. Having people beneath me wouldn’t be bad.”

“Shouldn’t we start recruiting warriors again? A lot of our comrades have been dying to the Frost Giants lately…”

Back when Silverwind was still alive, they had recruited large numbers of warrior candidates and driven them beyond the Far Eastern Wall.

Just as many had died there.

They called it Silverwind’s Forging.

But now that the number of Dragon Spawn no longer increased, they could no longer use the old method.

Only a dragon could create Dragon Spawn.

“Chief Goz is basically our father now, isn’t he?”

“More or less.”

“If the Chief can’t create Dragon Spawn, doesn’t that mean he failed to completely absorb Lord Silverwind’s Essence?”

“…”

“Then doesn’t that mean he’s an unsuitable owner of the Essence, and therefore unqualified to rule over us?”

The atmosphere turned cold.

“Maybe.”

Percival sighed, closed his book, and rose to his feet.

Then he asked,

“Can you beat him?”

“What?”

“Can you defeat Chief Goz with your own strength?”

“How could I possibly beat the Chief?”

THWACK!

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

It was so fast that he never had a chance to react.

“Then watch your damn mouth. Chief Goz may have failed to become a true dragon, but he was once second in command. He spilled enough blood to make a river, both his own and everyone else’s, to earn that place. He’s not someone trash like you gets to disrespect casually.”

“Ugh… S-Sorry, sir…”

“There won’t be another warning. If I hear that words like these escaped your mouth anywhere else, I’ll take your head myself. Understood?”

“I’ll remember.”

Percival looked at the man’s blood-soaked face and thought,

I’ve gotten remarkably merciful.

In the old days, saying something like that would have amounted to a challenge, and the matter would not have ended until one of them died.

But since they could no longer forge warriors by recruiting many and allowing many to die, mercy had become necessary whether he liked it or not.

‘I have to waste the whole day with this idiot.’

Percival sighed.

No sooner had the thought crossed his mind than his sharpened senses caught something.

“Captain.”

“Yeah. I felt it too.”

A sign of life.

But it was approaching from the east, not from the far north overflowing with Frost Giants.

Judging by its speed, whoever it was seemed to be walking.

That was strange.

Someone with power like that would have been far better off flying.

Choosing to walk meant they knew whose land this was and were deliberately showing respect to its owner.

At last, a figure appeared through the violent blizzard.

“Stay back.”

Percival spoke.

“I can assist you…”

“I’m telling you to stand still because even the two of us together couldn’t stop her.”

Percival took up his staff, prepared for battle, and descended from the tower.

The man serving as his second watch stared blankly after him.

He had never before seen Percival, a man who usually seemed relaxed and annoyed by everything, look so tense.

Percival quietly went down to meet the visitor.

Silver hair.

Silver eyes.

And a weapon of silver steel, something only a descendant of Silverwind could possess.

Yet Silverwind’s selection process allowed only strong adult men to become his descendants. There should never have been a young girl among them.

More importantly, it should have been impossible for such a young girl to approach while releasing Dragon Fear, something even the Dragon Spawn themselves could not produce.

But Percival knew.

There was exactly one exception.

“…Luri.”

“Percival.”

They exchanged brief greetings.

Percival spoke first.

“What do you want? I thought Chief Goz made himself perfectly clear last time.”

“…”

“Judging by that maid uniform, you aren’t here to return to Silverwind’s embrace… and if you were, you wouldn’t have come here radiating killing intent like this.”

“…”

“Do you have business with the Chief again?”

“Yes.”

“And if I try to stop you?”

“…”

Luri did not answer at length.

She had already made up her mind.

Percival was the one who broke the silence between them.

“Back then and now, I still can’t think of any way to beat you. Even when I was prepared to kill you, all you ever tried to do was subdue me.”

“…”

“If someone like you has come prepared to spill blood… then I suppose I’m the one who should step aside.”

“Thank you, Percival.”

Luri bowed politely.

For someone who carried the same Silverwind blood, the sight was strangely unfamiliar.

“Still, answer me one thing. What are you planning to do once you reach Chief Goz?”

“Ask him for something.”

“Ask him what? Are you going to propose that ridiculous peace agreement again?”

“No.”

“Then…”

Percival understood instinctively.

He realized what sort of resolve had brought her here while releasing Dragon Fear.

“…You might die.”

“I know.”

Goz was merciless and never held back.

Luri knew that in her bones, because she had once endured one-sided violence from him that no one else could have survived.

“That’s exactly why I have to go.”

But the helplessness she felt now was greater than that fear.

As she walked past Percival’s shoulder, Luri said,

“He is the one who made me a warrior.”