VBNWDW - Chapter 53
Chapter 53
Silence spread through the steaming hot spring pool, the air thick with the pungent smell of sulfur. White gauze curtains billowed with the wind, revealing the faint silhouette of the dragon.
Its tail rested on the edge of the pool. Against the marble tiles, its ink-black scales looked even deeper, shimmering with a gem-like luster. It flicked the tip of its tail lazily, like a cat toying with a human.
"Metis," the dragon urged when it received no answer.
Metis had no choice but to turn sideways, crystalline streams of water sliding down her back and dripping into the pool, creating concentric ripples.
She reached out and grasped the dragon's tail. Legend held that a dragon's tail was its most powerful weapon—that the mightiest of them could shatter a mountain with a single swipe. Yet now, as she held it, the cool scales weren't sharp at all, feeling as if they'd been polished smooth. The slender, rounded tip curled, intentionally or not, against her palm.
Metis lowered it into the hot spring. The fine scales fanned out slightly, swaying gently with the ripples. At the same time, a wave of pleasure transmitted from the other end of the contract chain.
Without looking back, she could clearly sense the dragon resting its massive head on its claws. It was lying atop a small mountain of gold coins, its gilded eyes half-lidded and drowsy.
This was a dragon that was easy to please.
Metis reached another conclusion. She leaned against the stone wall of the spring, the intense heat flushing her skin pink. The wall, which usually offered some relief, was useless now.
That was the downside of a natural hot spring—you couldn't control the temperature at will.
Normally, Metis loved this feeling—soaking in the sweltering water for ten or twenty minutes before slowly getting out to sit on the cool edge, letting her thoughts drift. If the dragon hadn't appeared, that's what she would have done today.
But now, Metis found herself missing the cool touch of the dragon's tail. It reminded her of the pickled radish cubes commoners ate while soaking in hot baths. Her handmaiden had once described it as a pleasure so divine even the gods would yield to it, but Metis could never experience it herself. It was, after all, commoners' food.
She lowered her eyes to the side. That wretched dragon tail was still swaying leisurely, unaware that it had interrupted a queen's most anticipated moment of relaxation.
The dragon, however, seemed to sense her thoughts. "Do you need a massage, little queen?" it asked in its characteristically lazy drawl.
It even added considerately, "You've been tense all day, your muscles wound tight."
Metis had thought she'd hidden it well. Even with a legendary dragon appearing before her, she hadn't shown any panic. Aside from occasionally gripping her sword hilt, no one should have been able to see her distress.
As if reading her mind, the dragon let out a strange chuckle. "A truly relaxed person wouldn't just stand there without saying a word," it said.
The dragon tail Metis had been thinking about dipped down and poked her calf.
For some reason, even after soaking in the hot spring for a while, the tail remained just as cool as before.
Metis lowered her head, watching as the finely scaled dragon tail wrapped around her calf several times, then began to press, sometimes lightly, sometimes firmly.
To be honest, when the dragon appeared, Her Majesty the Queen had already prepared herself to scrub its scales. The dragon her father had contracted loved that sort of thing. Whenever her family scrubbed its scales together with enormous boar-bristle brushes, it would hum in contentment and grant her father a small request.
But now, the roles were reversed—the dragon was giving her a massage.
The aches lurking deep in her bones and muscles dissipated under the dragon's expert massage.
Metis couldn't help but wonder: what did she possess that could possibly attract a dragon?
She wasn't naive enough to believe it was simply a kind-hearted creature.
As a member of the Roy royal family, who had more contact with the Dragon Clan than anyone else on the Chryse Continent, she knew better than anyone what a vicious race they were. Their innate power allowed them to disregard most rules and restraints, letting them seize whatever they desired on a whim.
Metis had no doubt that if not for their excessive laziness, all other races would have been subjugated by the dragons, forced to mine mountains for them, forging shiny gold coins and gems.
And most importantly, this one was likely a black dragon, the coldest and most sinister of the Dragon Clan.
A dragon's personality was influenced by its Tree of Genes. Light, water, and wood dragons, for instance, were relatively gentle, and the patriarch of the Dragon Clan was usually chosen from one of these three types. The Roy royal family had the most contact with these kinds of dragons.
The one that had turned and left earlier, however, was a hot-tempered fire dragon.
As for dark and space-type dragons, the Roy royal family had never even had contact with them. They only knew from snippets of conversation with other dragons that such dragons were extremely rare, with mostly vicious and cold personalities, and that even their own kind found them difficult to deal with.
Metis pressed her lips together, deciding to move forward with the probing she had planned. She asked in a low voice, "Lord Dragon?"
"Mm?" The response came in the same lazy drawl.
"May I address you as such?" she asked deferentially. A droplet of water slid from her delicate neck and shoulder, landing on an ink-black scale.
The dragon then remembered it seemed to have forgotten something. It spoke casually, "Yueqing."
"Ah?" Metis tilted her head as if trying to look behind her.
The dragon added, "My name."
So Metis said, "Lord Yueqing."
"Mm," the dragon acknowledged, then suddenly added, "Little Queen."
It seemed the "little" part was non-negotiable. Metis didn't know whether to be pleased or annoyed. Being allowed to know a dragon's name meant she was special enough to it, that what happened before wasn't just a whim. But the dragon's attitude toward her was more like that toward a child who wasn't yet an adult.
As she was pondering this, she was suddenly poked in the lower back, followed by the dragon's voice: "Alright, stop overthinking, little queen. Aren't you afraid of going bald?"
Metis's body tensed. Before she could process the dragon's words, her attention was completely captured by the tail climbing up her back.
Somehow, perhaps because the skin of her waist was too tender, or perhaps because the mischievous dragon was doing it on purpose, the scales that had felt smooth before now caused a fine, stinging pain as they scraped coolly upward.
The pressure wasn't heavy, still possessing that characteristic draconic nonchalance, like the casual flick of a cat's tail, tapping idly against her spine.
From the very end, it climbed upward, vertebra by vertebra.
Metis's body was taut, her golden hair fanning out in the rippling water.
The wind lifted the layers of white gauze behind her. The entirely black dragon lowered its wings. A palm-sized sapphire beneath it couldn't bear the pressure and rolled away, falling into a pile of gleaming gold coins. A crack appeared in the gem, but the dragon didn't care. Its hoard had countless such gems. Its gilded eyes held their usual indifference.
If Metis had looked back at that moment, she might have marveled at the exquisite skill of the artists of old, who had managed to perfectly replicate the dragon's likeness on paper.
Powerful and indifferent—the best words to describe this species.
But Metis couldn't turn back. She could feel the dragon's tail still moving upward, from her tailbone to her waist, then to the spine between her ribs.
The pressure from behind grew a little heavier, like the tap of a game piece on a wooden board. Any higher would be…
Metis couldn't help but shrink her neck. The back of her neck was her most sensitive spot; she allowed no one but herself to touch it.
The dragon didn't insist. It flicked its tail back into the spring and spoke without any hint of teasing, "You still need to grow up a little more, Your Majesty, little queen."
The title had gotten longer, but Metis still felt not a shred of respect. Yet, compared to the people from the Council and the Temple, the dragon's attitude toward her seemed far more intimate.
She couldn't help but turn back and say, "Lord Yueqing…"
Before she could finish, the dragon interrupted. It used its tail to lift her clothes and present them to Metis, then said lazily, "I was going to have you massage my tail, but it's a pity someone has come looking for you."
Metis frowned slightly. She knew it must be people from the Council and the Temple. The dragon's special favor today would surely make them suspicious, and they would rush over to put her in her place.
"Go on. We have plenty of time," the dragon said, then rolled over. The gold coins beneath it creaked under the pressure, and several of them cracked.
Metis had no choice but to stand. Droplets of water slid down the young woman's developed curves—not at all as the dragon had said, that she still needed to grow. She was already perfect, like a peach ripened in June, hanging from a bent branch, ready to fall at any moment.
And the only one fortunate enough to be an audience, the dragon, had not only turned its back but was even chatting with the cold, unfeeling System.
Yueqing: "Does entering a world make you influenced by the original body's personality?"
System: "Theoretically, no."
Yueqing was a bit surprised: "Then was I always this fond of gems? Something doesn't feel right…"
"Now, whenever I see these gold coins and gems, I feel happy. I want to possess more, I even want to move all the gems on this continent into my lair. That shouldn't be a thought a human would have, right?"
The System was silent for a moment, then answered hesitantly: "Perhaps this body is too powerful, so you've been influenced to some degree?"
Yueqing nodded, then muttered inexplicably: "I seem to remember having a mine somewhere, full of sparkling gems…"
The System said nothing.
After the daytime ceremony, Anthelia City remained lively late into the night.
Travelers from all over lingered here, boasting in taverns about their past experiences. Some held projection crystals, ready to transmit the day's events to every city-state, just as they always did. Tonight was destined to be a long one.
When Metis emerged from the council hall, her face, which had been warmed by the hot spring, was suddenly pale.
She looked up at the moon in the sky, her pale gray-blue eyes reflecting its incomplete silhouette.
"…I think you should still study more on how to handle political affairs. At the very least, you must have the approval of half the Council to bear such a responsibility. Don't you agree, Your Majesty?"
"The Dragon Clan is fickle. Today, they're in the mood to patiently humor you. Tomorrow, they might lose interest and fall asleep for ten or eight years. As the person who knows dragons best, surely Your Majesty is aware of this?"
"From now on, the Council and the Temple will continue to assist you in handling political affairs until you are fully capable of shouldering this burden."
Metis pulled her thoughts back to the present. As she walked forward, she realized that the exhaustion that had filled her body earlier had vanished without a trace.
Was it because of the dragon's massage?
She couldn't help but wonder again: what kind of dragon was it, exactly?
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