Just as they stepped out of the training arena, Fischer saw a number of Demi-humans gathered by the roadside, watching them. The sounds from his duel with Raphaëlle had been too loud to ignore—it was only natural they’d co to check it out.
But upon realizing the person responsible was a well-dressed human gentleman, most of them quickly avoided eye contact and moved away—except for one Insectkin woman who still stood by the edge of the street. Inside the house behind her, a small head peered out from the window, looking at Fischer and Raphaëlle with compound eyes.
Ah, so she lived here.
Fischer gave a slight smile and said to the woman,
“Sorry to disturb you. We’ll be leaving now.”
The Insectkin woman waved her hand and replied in halting Nary Language,
“N-No... it’s okay.”
“You speak Nary?”
Looks like Fieron’s efforts in teaching the demi-humans the language had begun to show results—many of them could now at least manage basic phrases.
“Y-Yes... Lord Fieron... told people to teach us.”
“Seems he’s a good man.”
“Y-Yes. And... he’s adopted dozens of... children. He’s good to us…”
Fischer’s gaze shifted thoughtfully. He then smiled, took off his hat and held it respectfully in front of him, bidding the woman farewell. Behind him, Raphaëlle had caught up and was curiously observing the daily life of the demi-humans.
In their courtyard, she saw many things she’d never encountered in the tribe—faucets for drawing water, swings, and more.
“By the way, how’s your Nary coming along?”
“Not bad...”
Fischer turned toward her in mild surprise. She’d answered that—in Nary. After just a little over ten days, she could already string together several basic phrases. Her accent was still a bit odd, but considering she rarely asked him questions and only had so markings from his books as guidance, this was impressive.
Seeing Fischer’s expression, Raphaëlle imdiately broke into a proud grin, nearly striking a superhero pose with her hands on her hips.
But even after waiting, no proper complint ca. The last ti she’d gotten one, his expression had still been that infuriatingly cold look.
Sure enough, this ti was no different. He quickly looked away and, as if offhandedly, said,
“Well done. Keep it up.”
Annoying human!
As Raphaëlle silently cursed him from behind, Fischer suddenly stopped moving. Without a word, he reached out and pulled her into the shadows of a roadside tree.
Under the moon’s shadow, their gazes aligned and focused on a group of soldiers near a house in the distance. One soldier in blue was instructing the others to load sothing onto a cart.
They were tal canisters, cylindrical in shape—not too big, maybe a few dozen centiters long. Light enough to carry one in each hand. The soldiers carefully loaded them into the cart. Then, two climbed into the back while one took the reins.
Raphaëlle’s vision was far sharper than Fischer’s. She could see the whole scene clearly, but she had no idea what they were doing. Not getting an answer, she turned to Fischer—but he said nothing, still quietly observing from the shadows.
Only after the cart departed, heading toward the outer city, did Fischer erge from hiding with her.
“What were they... doing?”
“I don’t know either.” Fischer’s gaze lingered on the distant cart, then he continued walking toward Fieron’s manor. “Let’s go back.”
Raphaëlle opened her mouth to speak but ended up walking alongside him in silence.
“Fischer... I feel like sothing’s off around here. I don’t really like it.”
“Oh?” Tonight Raphaëlle was full of surprises. This was the third or fourth unexpected comnt she’d made. “I thought you’d like it here... Why’s that?”
“I... I don’t know. Just don’t.”
She had tried to co up with sothing impressive to say—sothing that would earn Fischer’s admiration. But all she could manage was a vague feeling that sothing wasn’t right.
“Just feels... off. Everywhere.”
Fischer glanced at her and said,
“If you have a hunch, keep observing. Think it through. Stick to it—until the facts prove otherwise.”
Back at the manor, Fischer borrowed one of the bathrooms—there were several—and let the girls wash up as well. But Larr refused to go, clutching a toy in her arms and insisting she’d only borrowed it from the other kids. If she went to bathe, she wouldn’t have ti to play.
No one knew how she managed to “borrow” the toy without speaking the language, but eventually she was dragged off for justice by Raphaëlle—crying and clinging to Mir, who carried her into the bath.
Once everyone was clean, Fieron and Nana returned. Nana was feeding a tiny goblin child with a spoonful of milk.
“All finished, Mr. Fischer? Looks like you won again. To survive a Dragonkin’s assault... you must be quite the magic master. So—have you figured out how to advance your relationship with her?”
Fischer sat down and tapped his fingers on the table.
“I’m planning to take a direct approach…”
A trace of surprise slipped through Fieron’s gas mask, and then he chuckled.
“I see. But I’ve heard Dragonkin only feel desire for their Tailmate. Be careful you don’t hurt yourself... But more importantly, about that idea you ntioned earlier—I think it might be feasible.”
“Which idea?”
They’d discussed many things last night in the lab. Fischer had proposed a few hypotheses as part of a purely academic discussion.
“You said... since despair can trigger the soul’s resonance, then theoretically that reaction can also be artificially induced by stimulating the brain…”
Fischer was silent for a mont, then shook his head.
“But identifying the precise brain regions for such a reaction is nearly impossible. Best to abandon the idea.”
Fieron nodded with a smile and stood up.
“Fair enough... Well, that’s all for today. I need to go calm those little ones down. You should get so rest too, Mr. Fischer. Good night.”
“Good night.”
After Fieron and Nana left the lounge, Fischer sat alone at the table, deep in thought.
His fingers tapped rhythmically on the wood. Thought after thought slowly ford in his mind. In the background, Larr’s loud protests echoed from the bathroom, but Fischer’s steady tapping turned the atmosphere nearly funereal.
Tap.
His fingers suddenly halted, and the magic circuit on the back of his hand lit up like branches glowing.
“Heh.”
“Larr! Stop grabbing other people’s toys!”
Raphaëlle stood with her hands on her hips, glaring at the little Dragonkin sitting on the floor with a pout. She tugged gently on Larr’s ear and spoke clearly:
“You said you borrowed it!”
“I did borrow it! I told them so!”
“Nana said you just grabbed the toy and ran outside. You call that borrowing?!”
“I said it was a loan, then I ran!”
“If you already said it, why run?”
“They didn’t agree, so I had to run!”
“...”
Raphaëlle opened her mouth but had no response. She pinched Larr’s ear again, making her flee and hide behind Mir.
“Big Sis Mir! Waaaah! Lady Raphaëlle hit !”
“Larr, honestly... Co on, no more fussing. Let’s go to bed.”
Mir held her close, patting her head. Fassil and Cachil made silly faces at the teary Larr, making her even more unwilling to look up from Mir’s arms.
This girl...
Raphaëlle suddenly recalled sothing Fischer had said. After hesitating, she walked up to Larr and said seriously,
“Don’t run around. Stay where Mir and the others can see you, okay?”
“...Got it.”
“Alright. Ti for bed.”
Raphaëlle told the girls to go upstairs, then followed. But as soon as she closed their bedroom door, the silence of the hallway made her tense up.
Wait—didn’t Fischer say tonight was... punishnt night?
Raphaëlle flicked her tail, walked up to her own door, and gripped the doorknob—but couldn’t bring herself to turn it.
She had no idea how long she stood there. When she finally entered, Fischer looked up from his book to see the red Dragonkin, cheeks tinged pink, glance shyly to the side. Her tail swayed lightly in front of her as she slowly stepped inside.
“I... I’m ready...”
Ready for what? She didn’t really say. But ready.
Fischer gave a small nod and closed his book.
“Tonight—”
Before he could finish, the bed beside him trembled slightly—Raphaëlle had already sat down next to him.
“Tonight… what are we doing?”
Her eyes were nearly spiraling from nerves, her tail flicked uncontrollably, and her smile was stiff. The scales on her sides trembled, releasing tiny puffs of steam. Most adorably, whenever Fischer’s gaze touched her, the scales in that spot gently softened—lting from armor to a smooth surface.
“I’ve been curious for a while... why do your scales change like that?”
Fischer reached out and gently touched one of the half-softened patches—and as if struck by lightning, all her scales imdiately flattened, and she shrank back several centiters, her face turning an even deeper shade of pink.
“T-That... that’s...”
She wanted to make up an excuse—fatigue from battle, a cold, anything. But...
Wait. Wasn’t tonight supposed to be punishnt night? So maybe... maybe a little honesty wasn’t so bad?
She opened her mouth, took several deep breaths, but couldn’t speak. In her panic, she looked down and locked eyes with Fischer’s calm gaze—then saw it ripple, like still water stirred.
In his eyes, Raphaëlle's blush deepened, her erald eyes shimred with moist light, filled with warmth and allure.
He suddenly recalled what many had warned him.
Dragonkin only feel desire for their Tailmate...
So that’s what this was.
In that instant, Fischer’s gaze darkened. He reached out, gently cupping her face. In her wide-eyed panic, he pulled her toward him.
And in the next second—their lips t.
Raphaëlle’s body jolted—then lted like water, her tail thudding wildly against the bed.
Scales and tails don’t lie. And neither does a heart that's been touched. They scread of affection for this human—just as Raphaëlle had always refused to admit.
Even if he’s human, I...
The fla long suppressed now blazed like molten lava. All of Raphaëlle’s instincts surged toward him, wanting to get closer and closer.
And of course... she completely forgot how poor the soundproofing was in this house.
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