Chapter 270: Promise of Every Treasure

"...Can you put me down?" Fafnir asked, trying to change the subject.

Victor looked at her.

"No."

Fafnir immediately turned her face toward him.

"WHAT?!"

"I’m not putting you down."

"YOU BASTARD!"

Victor laughed.

"I’m trying to win your heart, remember?"

She stared at him with an incredulous expression.

"AND WHAT DOES THAT HAVE TO DO WITH KEEPING ME ON YOUR LAP?!"

"The closer I stay, the more opportunities I have to talk to you."

"THAT MAKES NO SENSE!"

"It does to me."

Fafnir began struggling, but the chains still prevented her from moving her arms and legs fully.

Victor simply adjusted her position so she wouldn’t slip.

"Besides, obtaining such a powerful Dragon-Slaying Sword requires quite a bit of dedication."

Fafnir stopped.

Her gaze darkened.

"...So that’s what this is about."

Victor arched an eyebrow.

"What’s what about?"

"All of this is because of a sword."

Her voice was low but filled with contempt.

Victor stared at her for a few seconds.

Then he shook his head.

"Not exactly."

Fafnir let out a bitter laugh.

"Do you think I’m an idiot?"

"No."

"Then stop pretending!"

Victor pointed toward the magic circle still engraved on the ground.

"See that?"

Fafnir followed the gesture with her eyes.

"Unfortunately."

"I’ve been performing a marriage ritual with you for a while now."

She looked back at him.

"...What?"

Victor smiled.

"I’m just waiting for you to give in a little."

Fafnir froze.

He continued before she could start shouting again:

"The vampires’ marriage ritual works with practically every race because it uses blood as its foundation. Humans, vampires, werewolves, dragons... they all have blood."

"You want to perform a marriage ritual with me?!"

"Yes."

"I WOULD NEVER AGREE TO SOMETHING LIKE THAT!"

"Then we can’t finish yet."

Fafnir stared at him.

Victor shrugged.

"I’m not going to complete the ritual until you agree. I need you to accept the bond so I can drink a little of your blood and finish the process."

Her expression changed.

First came disbelief.

Then a short laugh.

"You really are an idiot."

Victor arched an eyebrow.

"Why?"

"Because I’m dead!"

She finally managed to move one of her arms a little.

"This is just my soul! I don’t have a body anymore, much less blood for you to drink!"

Victor observed her arm.

Then he smiled.

"Are you sure?"

Fafnir narrowed her eyes.

"What are you—"

Victor gently took hold of her forearm.

Then he brought his mouth closer and bit down.

"AH! YOU BASTARD!"

Fafnir tried to pull her arm away, but Victor had already withdrawn his face.

A small amount of blood ran from the marks left by his fangs.

Fafnir stopped immediately.

Her eyes fixed on her own arm.

One red drop slowly slid down her skin.

Then another.

"...This..."

Victor ran his tongue over his lips, cleaning away the blood that remained there.

"Interesting."

Fafnir continued staring at the wound.

Victor released her arm.

"You weren’t killed, Fafnir."

The dragon slowly raised her face.

"...What?"

"You were sealed."

She fell silent.

Victor continued:

"You probably don’t even know what happened after you lost consciousness."

Fafnir seemed to have completely forgotten the chains still restraining her body.

"I remember..."

Her voice was quiet.

"I remember being struck in the heart."

Victor nodded.

"And after that?"

She opened her mouth.

She didn’t answer.

Her last memory was of the hero standing before her, holding the bloodstained sword. Then she had felt a terrible pain pierce her chest, and when she awoke again, she was trapped in that world.

For two thousand years, she had believed that her soul had been imprisoned after her body was destroyed.

She had never considered another possibility.

Victor watched her expression.

"Killing a true dragon isn’t a simple matter."

Fafnir remained quiet.

"Even in the present day, I know only two people who might be capable of doing it. And, honestly, I still have my reservations."

He pointed toward his own chest.

"So I imagine that hero realized it was much easier to seal you than to actually kill you."

Fafnir lowered her eyes.

Victor continued:

"Your body was probably sealed along with your soul, or it’s connected to your soul in some way. That would explain why you can still produce blood in here."

She looked again at the small wound on her arm.

The bite mark had already begun to disappear.

Fafnir remained silent for a long time.

Two thousand years.

She had spent two thousand years believing she was dead.

That her existence had ended that day and all that remained was a soul condemned to rot inside a sword.

But if Victor was right...

Her body might still exist.

She might still be able to get out of there.

Fly again.

Find new treasures.

Fafnir slowly curled her fingers.

Victor noticed the change in her expression.

"So..."

She raised her eyes.

Victor smiled.

"How about we make a contract?"

Fafnir stared at him.

"...A contract?"

"Yes."

He rested one hand on the chains still wrapped around her body.

"Marry me."

Fafnir remained motionless.

Victor continued with a calm smile. "And I’ll help you find every treasure in this world!"

Fafnir froze, and her mind filled with feelings she had forgotten long ago...

There had been a time when Fafnir hadn’t needed to look at the same sky every day.

She remembered the mornings when she spread her wings over the plains, crossing enormous green fields as the wind passed between her scales. She flew without any particular destination, simply because she liked the feeling of freedom. Sometimes she found a river and followed its course until she discovered a city she didn’t know yet. Other times she spent the entire day flying over mountains, searching for abandoned ruins or caves where she might find something interesting.

It didn’t need to be a magnificent treasure.

An ancient coin, a forgotten jewel, or even a small piece of silver was enough to awaken her curiosity.

When she found a city, she assumed her human form and hid her horns and tail so she could walk among the people without attracting attention. She especially liked the markets. There were merchants shouting prices, children running through the streets, and small shops selling objects brought from distant places.

Fafnir could spend hours examining the merchandise.

Once, she had found a small music box made of silver. The object possessed no magic, nor was it particularly valuable. Even so, she liked its melody so much that she paid twice the price the merchant had asked.

She remembered the man’s surprised expression perfectly.

And how she had returned to her nest that night, carrying the little box with the greatest care in the world.

Fafnir had treasures that were far more valuable.

But she liked that box.

She liked all the things she had found during her travels.

Each object was a memory of somewhere she had visited, someone she had met, or a day when she had simply decided to leave home and discover something new.

She was happy. Those journeys, the treasures she found along the way, and the memories each object carried were all part of the freedom she had once enjoyed.

So happy that she had never considered the possibility of losing all of it.

...

Fafnir blinked.

The red sky of the world inside Gram filled her vision again. The mountains of gold still surrounded her, motionless, and the heat rising from the cracks in the ground remained exactly as it had always been.

She was still trapped.

But this time, there was someone in front of her.

Victor was still sitting in the blood armchair, holding her on his lap as he waited for her answer. He had just promised to help her find every treasure in that world, and the expression in his eyes made it quite clear that he wasn’t offering that out of simple generosity.

He wanted her.

He wanted her to accept the bond, marry him, and remain by his side.

Fafnir should have been furious.

She should have told that vampire to fuck off once again, threatened to tear off his head, or demanded that he release her immediately.

But the words wouldn’t come.

She kept looking into Victor’s possessive eyes, remembering the green plains, the bustling markets, and the little music box she had bought so long ago.

Her heart wavered.

Fafnir tried to push that feeling away but couldn’t. The possibility of flying again, visiting cities, and discovering treasures she didn’t yet know seemed too good to be true.

Her body began to tremble slightly.

’I...’

She pressed her lips together.

’Could I get out of here?’

Her golden eyes grew reddish, and Fafnir lowered her head a little, trying to prevent Victor from noticing the change in her expression.

It was no use.

A small tear ran down her cheek.

Fafnir froze, surprised at herself.

It had been so long since she had cried that she had forgotten what the feeling was like.