novelraw Chapter 57: Dessert
Chapter 57: Dessert
The night had grown deep, and Fischer watched as the magical runes carved into the campfire before him began to flicker precariously once more, the flames dancing between brightness and dimness.
Ordinary magical runes would dissipate after a single use. To enable multiple uses, one had to engrave an additional [Perpetual Cycle] onto the ring—this was an advanced magical technique that allowed the rune to remain functional as long as the perpetual cycle portion existed.
He had applied about three cycles to the campfire, and now the last one was about to fade. Though he likely wouldn't need to use this anymore after tonight.
Once he reached Port Crete, he could return directly to Saint Nary—the most prosperous city recognized across the Western Continent, and also Fischer's hometown.
"Lord Fischer, is this the right way to place it?"
At that moment, Mir was boiling a pot of natural tree sap beverage over the campfire. Earlier that evening, Fischer had discovered a honeyfruit tree here, whose sap contained high sugar content. He remembered seeing vendors sell this natural drink often during his childhood.
This was Mir's first time using human cooking utensils, and she seemed particularly fond of the various iron spoons and spatulas. According to her, most iron tools in their tribe were weapons, rarely used as cookware.
"Yes, this color means it's about ready to drink. Take it to Larr and the others to try."
"Understood. Won't Lord Fischer have some?"
"No need, I have a substitute here."Fischer raised the iron flask in his hand—another purchase from Fieron City, which was quite developed, even selling Western Continent rum, allowing Fischer to enjoy a taste during his travels.
Gentlemen of Nary had their own indulgences—cigarettes, fine alcohol, and ladies were all greatly cherished. Of the Western Continent's seven most famous breweries, four were in Nary, demonstrating how much they adored such things.
As Mir carried the pot of tree sap to where Larr and the others were playing in the water, Raphaëlle slowly descended from the trees above and approached Fischer's side.
"No signs of anyone heading this way. The gunfire and cannon sounds in the distance seem to have stopped too—likely everything's concluded over there."
Both Fischer and Raphaëlle understood the inevitable outcome of this conflict perfectly well. Fischer simply nodded in acknowledgment.
"You're of age now—care to try some human-made alcohol?"
"Even underage dragonkin can drink. Alcohol is just ordinary beverage to our kind."
Raphaëlle leaned in to sniff the liquid in the flask, her expression unchanging as she teased,
"This concentration would probably be considered water among dragonkin. If there's a chance, I'll have you try our flame liquor—after drinking it last time, I could breathe fire for hours. My brothers and I used to compete over who could produce taller flames."
Despite her words, she accepted the cup from Fischer and downed half of it in one gulp, showing no reaction whatsoever, as if drinking plain water.
"I've told you many things about our tribe. Now tell me about yourself—where you live. I'm curious..."
"So now you're curious about me?"
Fischer took back the flask she returned, his expression neutral as he asked.
"Hmph, lest someone accuse me of being arrogant again."
Fischer paused for a second before switching to Nary language—some words were too troublesome to explain in Draconic, and Raphaëlle's current proficiency should allow comprehension at a slower pace.
"I was orphaned young, raised in Saint Nary's orphanage... An orphanage is basically a place that takes in many parentless children. Then I studied at church school for several years—the church is..."
As he spoke, Fischer patiently explained various human societal terms completely foreign to her. She had seen churches before without knowing what they were—dragonkin relied solely on parental education and had no concept of schools.
"So who is Renée?"
Raphaëlle asked nonchalantly, though she clearly remembered during the cave ambush by those demi-humans, the bird from the sky had mentioned delivering a message to Renée. Even Raphaëlle wasn't dense enough to miss that it was a woman's name.
Fischer opened his mouth but found himself momentarily speechless—this odd reaction turned Raphaëlle's pretended casualness into genuine interest, her emerald gaze locking onto the man beside her.
Unaware of the increasingly dangerous aura beside him, Fischer was simply struggling to find the right words to describe Renée.
"A witch—a specific type of demi-human unique to the Western Continent. I tutored her in magical theory for a period, and many spells on my staff were completed with her help. She's a woman with a wicked personality who delights in teasing others, but admittedly, even among witches, her magical talent is exceptionally outstanding."
Raphaëlle studied Fischer's profile intently for a long moment before averting her gaze, replying,
"Oh. I see."
She temporarily stole Fischer's catchphrase along with his deadpan expression.
Raphaëlle suddenly regretted asking Fischer about other women—even when his evaluations were perfectly normal, any praise he gave another female inexplicably displeased her.
Though she remained intensely curious about this Renée person, the conflicting emotions were overwhelming.
"Anyway, are all other humans like those we've seen in the Southern Continent?"
Raphaëlle awkwardly changed the subject the next second.
"Not all, but most. Technically, there are no humans with official backgrounds here—government-affiliated ones would be worse than these."
"You truly are a strange human, speaking this way about your own kind."
"I merely state facts. I won't disparage them just because I favor you, nor elevate them simply for being human." Fischer set down the flask—this half-bottle wasn't enough to impair him as he exhaled soberly, "After all, reality won't change because of my words. You're no fool—you can see clearly enough."
F-favor!?
Raphaëlle froze momentarily before her complexion gradually flushed to match the campfire's glow, her tail swaying excitedly as if thoroughly delighted.
This... this human!
Was this his first time expressing emotions so directly...?
Was it the alcohol's influence?
Raphaëlle stole a glance at his perfectly normal expression and, confirming his sobriety, turned even redder.
How could someone say such things with complete seriousness?
And why did she find this straightforward confession even more moving?!
"Mmm... well, I..."
"Lady Raphaëlle, Lord Fischer, Larr is getting sleepy. I'll take them back to rest."
Just as Raphaëlle attempted to speak, Mir's voice sounded from behind, making Raphaëlle's tail shoot up in alarm as she turned to see Mir carrying a yawning Larr, followed by Cachil and Fassil.
Larr opened her mouth wide in an enormous yawn, rubbing her eyes before nestling into Mir's arms,
"Goodnight... Fischer, Lady Raphaëlle... Larr's so sleepy..."
Fischer nodded, and the group entered the carriage.
"We should retire too."
He extinguished the campfire while Raphaëlle tidied their surroundings. After Fischer set up protective spells, he headed toward his room with Raphaëlle following silently behind.
When he realized something and turned back at the doorway, Raphaëlle had already quietly closed the door, her face slightly flushed, eyes shimmering with unreadable thoughts. After several seconds, she turned her beautifully blushing face toward him, casually tucking a stray lock of crimson hair behind her long, elegant ear.
"You said... you favor me, right...?" She grasped Fischer's shirt, lifting her emerald eyes to meet his, "Prove it."
"I'm still injured."
Fischer had just begun removing his white shirt—the bandages still wrapped around him. Given Raphaëlle's usual intensity, he'd likely fall apart afterward.
But such feeble excuses meant nothing to a dragonkin in mating season—she wanted Fischer, now.
So in the next moment, ignoring his protests, Raphaëlle pushed against his bandaged chest with heated determination, her claws pressing him backward until he had no choice but to sit on the bed's edge. Boldly pressing against him, her scorching scales seeming to ignite her very soul, she exhaled a fragrant breath that danced across Fischer's neck.
Pinning Fischer's chest, she inhaled his scent, her tail coiling around his waist in tightening circles until certain he couldn't escape. Then, like a Saint Nary lady about to savor afternoon tea, she licked her lips, emerald eyes gleaming.
"Isn't this even better?"
"...."