Chapter 271: One Year to Make a Dragon Happy

Victor noticed the tear before Fafnir had time to hide it.

It slowly rolled from the corner of her eye, crossing the cheek still marked by the irritation from a few minutes earlier. Fafnir tried to turn her face away, but Victor raised his hand and brushed his thumb across her skin, wiping the drop away before it could reach her chin.

The dragon stiffened.

Victor didn’t laugh this time.

"You can talk like you hate everything, threaten to rip out my entrails, and act like you’re still the most arrogant creature in this world..." He studied her eyes for a few seconds. "But I think I understand you."

Fafnir pressed her lips together.

"You don’t understand anything."

"Maybe not everything."

Victor didn’t try to completely contradict her. He simply kept his hand near her face for another moment before lowering it.

"But you don’t seem like a creature who spent two thousand years planning revenge. You seem like a woman who spent far too long trapped."

Fafnir looked away.

Victor continued in a much simpler tone.

"You had your life taken away by someone who probably isn’t even alive anymore. Your dreams continued to exist, but you couldn’t do anything with them. You couldn’t travel. You couldn’t find new things. You couldn’t even talk to anyone."

He looked at the blood chains still binding her arms and legs.

"And I don’t need to add to that."

The chains began to dissolve.

First, they disappeared from her ankles.

Then from her wrists.

The blood lost its rigidity and returned to a liquid state before slowly evaporating, leaving Fafnir completely free.

She looked at her own hands.

Moved her fingers.

Then raised her eyes toward Victor suspiciously.

"You’re letting me go?"

"Yes."

"After saying I’d be yours one way or another?"

Victor scratched the side of his face.

"Yeah."

Fafnir narrowed her eyes.

"Do you realize how that sounds?"

"I have a bad way of saying certain things."

"A bad way?"

"Fine. Terrible."

She continued staring at him.

Victor sighed.

"I’m not going to force you to do anything."

Fafnir raised an eyebrow.

"You literally chained me up."

"Because you tried to kill me."

"You invaded my sword!"

"Technically, I was authorized to enter the vault."

"THAT DOESN’T AUTHORIZE YOU TO ENTER MY HEAD!"

Victor opened his mouth.

Thought about it.

"Yeah... that’s fair."

Fafnir remained speechless for a few seconds at how easily he admitted it.

Victor continued:

"I might sound threatening sometimes, but I’m not that kind of person. I’m not going to force someone to stay with me."

He paused briefly.

"Well... normally."

Fafnir slowly turned her head.

Victor began thinking out loud.

"When it comes to people who try to hurt me or the people I care about, maybe I’m a little less understanding."

"A little?"

"Fine, a lot."

He looked at Fafnir.

"And you did try to kill me."

She bared her teeth.

Victor raised one finger.

"But I think I can make an exception for emotionally distressed women who’ve spent two thousand years isolated."

Fafnir stared at him.

The sadness still weighing on her expression remained for several seconds.

Then her mouth twitched.

Victor noticed.

"Are you laughing?"

"No."

"You are."

"Shut up."

Fafnir turned her face away, but a small sound escaped before she could stop it.

Victor smiled.

She tried to hold it back.

She couldn’t.

A short laugh finally escaped her, still mixed with irritation, as if Fafnir herself were annoyed that she found any of this funny.

"You’re an idiot," she muttered.

"Probably."

"You say so much bullshit like it’s the most natural thing in the world..."

"It’s a talent."

Her laughter grew slightly louder.

Victor simply watched her.

There was an enormous difference between that expression and the hostility with which Fafnir had greeted him. Even though it was only a small smile and still full of resistance, it suited her face far better than clenched teeth and eyes filled with anger.

"You’re much prettier when you smile."

Her laughter died immediately.

Fafnir’s expression hardened.

She turned her face away.

"Don’t start."

Victor noticed the faint redness spreading across her cheeks.

"I was just complimenting you."

"I SAID DON’T START!"

"All right."

He kept smiling.

Fafnir noticed.

"And stop making that face!"

"What face?"

"That one!"

Victor didn’t answer.

Instead, he moved his hand and caused the blood energy beneath Fafnir’s feet to rise gently. She floated a few centimeters as Victor altered the structure of blood around her body.

Fafnir looked down.

"What are you doing now?"

"Fixing something."

The blood flowed around her without directly touching her skin for several seconds. Then it began taking the form of fabric, hardening only enough to maintain its structure.

A deep red dress covered her body.

The design was elegant but closely followed Fafnir’s silhouette, with fabric fitted around her waist and openings that accommodated her tail without restricting her movements. The sleeves were short, while darker details formed near the shoulders and waist, subtly resembling draconic scales.

When Victor finished, he lowered her back to the ground.

"That’s better."

Fafnir looked down at herself.

She ran a hand over the fabric.

Despite being made of blood, it felt surprisingly comfortable.

She raised her eyes. 𝑓𝑟ℯℴ𝓂

"Why did you—"

"I have to keep my woman comfortable."

Fafnir froze.

"Y-Your woman?"

Victor shrugged.

"I’m working on it."

"You just said you weren’t going to force me!"

"And I won’t."

"Then stop calling me that!"

"I can call you my future woman."

"THAT’S WORSE!"

Victor laughed and extended one hand.

The large blood circle drawn across the floor responded.

Lines that had gone dark began emitting a faint glow again, but this time, the energy didn’t attempt to restrain Fafnir. Instead, it concentrated in front of Victor and formed a thin sheet made entirely of crystallized blood.

Symbols began appearing across it.

Fafnir became serious again.

"What is that?"

"A contract."

Victor continued shaping the words with his own energy.

"I’m not going to rely on pretty promises alone."

"Finally, something sensible coming out of your mouth."

"Thank you."

"That wasn’t a compliment."

"I’ll take it."

The sheet finished forming and floated in front of Fafnir.

Victor pointed toward one of the clauses.

"Besides allowing me to use Gram, I’m going to add one condition of my own."

She began to read.

Victor spoke before she could finish.

"I’ll make sure that, within one year, you’ll be happy again."

Fafnir slowly raised her eyes.

Victor continued:

"I’m not saying I’ll fix everything in a week. You spent two thousand years trapped. I imagine there isn’t a simple solution for that."

He pointed at the contract again.

"But I’ll have one year."

Fafnir read the next line.

"And if you can’t?"

"I’ll find a way to free you."

She went still.

Victor finished:

"And then I’ll destroy Gram."

Fafnir’s head snapped up so quickly that her golden hair shifted over her shoulders.

"Destroy it?"

"Yes."

"You came here because you wanted this sword."

"So?"

"Gram is a weapon probably worth more than several cities!"

"I imagine so."

"And you would destroy it?"

"If it’s still your prison after one year, yes."

Fafnir stared at the contract.

The clause was truly there.

There was no ambiguous language.

No hidden condition that would allow Victor to simply change his mind.

If he failed to give her a life she considered worth living, he committed himself to trying to free her and destroying the sword that imprisoned her.

Fafnir curled her fingers.

It was absurd.

Too good.

Too suspicious.

"Why?"

Victor tilted his head.

"Because I said I would."

"That’s not an answer."

"It is to me."

She remained suspicious.

Two thousand years of isolation had destroyed much of the ease with which she had once trusted others. The last group of humans who had entered her nest had ended with a sword piercing her heart.

And now a vampire had appeared saying he would free her, show her treasures, destroy a legendary weapon for her, and even wanted to marry her.

Everything seemed wrong.

And yet...

Fafnir could feel his sincerity.

That was perhaps the worst part.

Victor sighed when he realized she still wasn’t going to do anything.

"You’re complicated."

"I spent two thousand years trapped inside a sword."

"Fair argument."

He rose from the armchair.

"But since you won’t give even a little, I’ll do something for you."

Fafnir frowned.

"What?"

Victor approached and took her hand.

"Hey."

Before she could pull her arm away, he quickly bit the tip of her finger.

"OW!"

A small drop of blood appeared.

Fafnir’s eyes widened.

"YOU BIT ME AGAIN!"

"I needed blood."

"YOU COULD HAVE ASKED!"

Victor guided her hand toward the contract.

"Consider this confirmation that you read it."

"Victor—"

He pressed her finger against the bottom of the sheet.

The blood reacted immediately.

A draconic mark appeared on the contract, but the magic did not complete the marriage bond. Instead, it merely registered Fafnir’s presence and blood within the clause Victor had created, leaving final consent to the ritual incomplete.

Victor released her hand.

Fafnir pulled her arm against her chest.

"You’re unbearable!"

"But now there’s a recorded promise."

"I DIDN’T AGREE TO THE MARRIAGE!"

"I know."

Victor said it so naturally that she stopped.

He pointed toward the circle.

"That part still depends on you."

Fafnir fell silent.

Victor gently took her finger again before the remaining drop could fall.

Then he ran his tongue over the small wound.

Fafnir stiffened.

Victor closed his eyes for a moment, analyzing the taste.

"Hmm."

She yanked her hand back.

"What?!"

He opened his eyes.

"Dragon blood is delicious."

Fafnir turned red.

"YOU—"

Victor started laughing before she could even finish.

She stared at the man, furious, confused, and still clutching her finger against her chest.

But there was something else now.

When she lowered her eyes toward the contract floating between them, she found the clause Victor had written once again.

One year.

After that, if he failed, he promised to free her.

Fafnir looked back at him.

Victor was still smiling as though he hadn’t just wagered a legendary weapon on the possibility of restoring happiness to a dragon he had only recently met.

She still didn’t completely trust him... Far from it...

But for some reason...

She didn’t feel uncomfortable.