“Alaya, why do you keep staring at me?” Unable to endure the sorceress’s suspicious gaze any longer, Aino finally asked.
“Because… uh, it just feels weird.” Alaya had sensed that something about Aino had changed since her return, though she couldn’t quite put her finger on it.
If pressed to explain, it was akin to the “sage mode” one might enter after indulging themselves following a long stretch of restraint—a refreshed, clear-headed state.
After pondering for a moment, Alaya suddenly had an epiphany.
“Aino, open your mouth.”
“?”
Though utterly perplexed, Aino complied, parting her lips to reveal her delicate oral cavity to Alaya. Given their height difference, Alaya only needed to tilt her head slightly downward to peer inside.
She examined it for a while, expecting to find “bits of meat caught in her teeth” or “traces of blood,” but instead saw nothing but cleanliness. Aino’s tongue even quivered occasionally from holding her mouth open so long, lending an oddly enticing air to the scene.
“Ahem.” Stepping back awkwardly, Alaya feigned a calm cough before asking, “Aino, did you go out and eat someone?”
The petite girl froze at the question. Aino hadn’t anticipated that Alaya would so effortlessly unravel her secret.
“I… I did…”
Seeing Aino’s flustered reaction, Alaya relaxed further. She leaned in close to Aino’s face with a mischievous grin and teased, “Miss, you wouldn’t want…”
“Hmph, honestly, I don’t need to hide such things.” Aino stretched out her hands, and her fingertips morphed into sharp, elongated claws, exuding an intimidating presence.
Alaya recoiled hastily. Through her magical perception, those claws seemed to drip with blood, unmistakably tools of carnage.
Is this her true form? The thought darted through Alaya’s mind.
From a safe distance, she waved her hands dismissively. Only after Aino gave a soft snort and reverted her hands to normal did Alaya cautiously approach again. “Why such a big reaction? I’m a sorceress, you know?”
“Delving into forbidden arts, steeped in taboos, transcending the mundane world. To a sorceress, the people, things, and emotions of this world are mere illusions. I was only teasing you, Aino. Why would I care about something so trivial?”
Aino fixed her gaze on Alaya for a moment, as if trying to discern her true intentions.
“I just follow my heart,” Aino said abruptly as they walked.
“My stance on these matters isn’t positive or negative. I simply do what I want to do.”
“The world isn’t just black and white; it’s mostly gray.”
It was unclear whether these words were directed at Alaya or meant for herself. They continued walking in silence, each immersed in their own thoughts.
That night, after confirming that the person beside her was asleep, Aino gently turned her head to gaze at the sorceress’s golden hair and serene sleeping face.
Alaya had once been a magic user. Witches and sorceresses were, after all, magic practitioners who dabbled in forbidden arts.
Aino didn’t know what Alaya had endured, but now her magical meridians were shattered, rendering her incapable of wielding magic. She was, for all intents and purposes, an ordinary person.
This was deliberate damage inflicted by a powerful practitioner, intended to strip her of her abilities and bar her from ever cultivating again—a sorceress of forbidden knowledge reduced to a powerless shell.
This injury was irreversible. Unless the Goddess of Life herself intervened, no being could restore Alaya’s capacity to wield magic.
She must be in immense pain, Aino thought, yet she didn’t know how to help.
Moreover, Alaya remained guarded around her, and Aino knew little of her past.
So why did she feel an inexplicable closeness to Alaya, unable to muster any wariness toward this sorceress?
After mulling it over, she let the question slip away.
In the dark nest, she had seen Alaya at her most vulnerable—her hopeful expression after surviving hell, her attempt to stay composed yet faintly resigned upon learning Aino’s true identity.
With Aino’s strength and Alaya now reduced to an ordinary human, every move Alaya made fell within Aino’s perception.
Her occasional looks of bewilderment, her pensive expressions, her moments of seeming lost in memory—Aino had quietly observed them all.
In her past life as a reclusive shut-in, Aino had no friends, let alone romantic prospects. Yet who doesn’t long for a sweet, genuine connection? Her natural introversion had limited her to superficial interactions, never truly breaching anyone’s inner world.
But in this world, Aino felt for the first time that such a bond might be within reach—so simple, even. She saw it as an opportunity.
Alaya was breathtakingly beautiful, a mysterious and enigmatic sorceress, now resting peacefully by her side.
Had Aino been an ordinary person—lacking martial or magical talent, without status, just as in her previous life, or even less appealing—she’d never have had this chance. How could a commoner venture alone into a goblin nest to rescue Alaya and earn her companionship?
It was precisely because she had tasted the privileges of the strong upon arriving in this world that Aino could no longer bear the thought of losing that power.
Power was intoxicating. Having wielded it, she grasped its significance more deeply and yearned to grow stronger, though what she had now still fell short of her desires.
Aino was formidable—strong enough that, unless she deliberately sought out perilous places or provoked infamous figures, she faced no real danger.
In her current surroundings, she could act with impunity. Almost no human or creature she encountered on her travels could threaten her. It was akin to a seasoned player, bored of elite competition, casually dominating novices with a low-level alternate account.
Yet, as the saying goes, “If you walk by the river often, your shoes will get wet.” Aino held this truth close to her heart.
“I must be careful, absolutely careful,” she reminded herself yet again.
This was a brutal world where might reigned supreme.
Unlike humans, who could study martial arts or magic under a mentor, monsters like her could only grow stronger through survival and time, honing their combat skills through battle.
As a powerful monster, Aino had never faced an opponent of equal caliber.
It was as if she’d inherited a top-tier account at the outset and spent her time overpowering weaker foes with superior attributes.
“Fighting a monster of my own level would be too risky, wouldn’t it?” Aino could accept killing and understood she had to adapt to this world’s rules of survival. She had even given in to her body’s urges and consumed a few humans.
But she couldn’t bring herself to constantly thrust herself into danger, to grow through relentless combat and plunder. For a modern soul accustomed to peace, that was too daunting.
It wasn’t that she didn’t want to—she was afraid.
Failure meant death, plain and simple.
“…Maybe I should just lay low. After all, dragons are long-lived. Time will make me stronger.”
After a restless bout of introspection in bed, Aino settled on her plan.
She would linger in this safe, novice-friendly zone. With her current strength, as long as she kept a low profile, nothing could threaten her.
She would live this way, experiencing the world in full.
Money wouldn’t be an issue either. If she ran short, she could take on a few “high-difficulty” quests.
With a beautiful companion, formidable strength, and an exceptionally long lifespan,
As long as she avoided reckless risks, life would be truly blissful.
“It’s stable, all stable,” the black dragon miss murmured.
—
