Chapter 32 : The Dragon Discovers the Secret to Defeating Richard 

The forest loomed closer, its emerald canopy whispering secrets in the breeze.

Aurina’s ten toes dug into the earth, clawing at the dirt as if to anchor her against fate’s cruel pull.

But Richard held her destiny by the horns, dragging her forward, her struggles carving ten desperate furrows in the ground behind her.

“I’m still a child!”

Aurina’s voice rang out, laced with defiance as she chanted her spell, rousing the entire caravan from their slumber.

Heads turned, eyes wide, all fixed on her.

“You can’t do this to a child!”

The freed slaves exchanged uneasy glances, their silence heavy with uncertainty.

Richard said nothing, his grip unyielding as he pulled her toward the grove.

Aurina’s gaze darted to the lush, green thicket ahead, and a memory flickered—her last romp with a unicorn in a forest just like this.

The beast’s powerful legs, dappled with soft, white fur, had felt so exquisite under her touch as they reveled in the wild.

Afterward, breathless and sated, she’d lain among the trees, half-hidden by leaves…

This grove was no different.

He’s going to ravish me!

The thought struck like lightning.

Aurina thrashed, her limbs flailing, her translucent claws raking across Richard’s armor.

Sparks flew, and the screech of claw against steel pierced the air.

But no matter how fiercely she fought, Richard’s stride never faltered.

She tried to summon fire, but he seized her head, redirecting her flames.

A few errant sparks singed him, yet he emerged unscathed.

They reached the trees, green leaves encircling them like a lover’s embrace—the very spot where, in another life, Aurina had reveled in sowing her dragon’s seed.

“Gah! No! Not like this!”

Instinctively, she clamped her legs together.

Could it be?

The mighty Aurina, ten-time champion of the Red Dragons, felled by a mere insect?

Richard, still clutching her horn, snapped a branch from a nearby tree.

He swung it through the air, the wood whistling faintly, then brought it down hard on her backside.

Crack.

“Gah?”

Aurina froze, her struggles ceasing as she tilted her head to peer at him, bewildered.

“What’s that?”

“Just this.”

“What else did you think?”

Richard’s voice was calm, almost amused.

“Nine more to go. You set the forest on fire, so we’ll need to put it out afterward.”

“Gahaha!”

Aurina pointed at the slender, pliable branch in his hand, her laughter bubbling up.

“You’re killing me, human! That puny little stick? I thought it was something serious! Come on, give me twenty more! This doesn’t even tickle! Gahaha!”

Richard paused, then released her horn.

Without a word, he turned and snapped off a new branch—this one as thick as his forearm.

“You asked for it.”

“Not that thick!”

Aurina yelped.

“I’m still a child! Crack! Ah! Crack! Ah!”

Her cries echoed through the trees, sharp and piercing, carrying all the way to the caravan.

The group exchanged looks.

A freckled redhead among them, her eyes alight with sudden realization, spoke up.

“So that’s it. He’s a predator who preys on children.”

Gasps rippled through the crowd.

“How can you say that about our savior?” someone protested.

“It’s true,” the redhead insisted, her voice firm.

She recalled how, just two days ago, she’d offered herself to Richard, hinting she’d do anything to join him.

He’d refused her outright—and worse, her companions had mocked her for it, leaving her humiliated.

“He likes them young. Listen to her screams. Tell me I’m wrong.”

The maids, seasoned in the ways of pleasing guests, held their tongues, their silence a tacit agreement.

“No wonder he…” one began.

“Yeah, that young dragon’s always so close to him, riding on his head all the time,” another added.

“She’s kind of adorable, though.”

“He’s a good man, but… isn’t this a bit too wild?”

The sounds from the forest began to fade.

The redhead smirked.

“And quick, too. Just twenty strikes.”

Soon, Aurina emerged from the grove, clutching her stinging backside, with Richard at her side.

The fire she’d sparked in the forest was out—she’d doused it herself with a burst of explosive flame, fighting fire with fire.

Under the caravan’s watchful eyes, she clambered onto Richard’s shoulder, her hands kneading her tender rear.

The redhead leaned in, whispering, “He even likes it from behind.”

Richard, oblivious, called out as he approached.

“I told you, Aurina, you don’t need to yelp every time I swat you… Oh, you’re all awake?”

“Yep!” the redhead chirped.

The others forced awkward smiles.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s nice weather today, so we’re up early.”

“Your dragon’s back, my lord. Isn’t that wonderful?”

A lanky merchant stepped forward, his grin strained.

“My lord, if I may offer a small suggestion? Could you… keep it down next time you, uh, do that sort of thing? Haha.”

“Did we disturb you?”

Richard asked.

“Aurina, try to scream less next time.”

“There’s a next time?”

Aurina squawked.

“With your temperament? I’d bet on it.”

Jaws dropped.

Eyes darted between them, and a few heads shook in disbelief.

Richard frowned.

“Why are you all acting so strange?”

“Haha, no reason, no reason!” the merchant stammered, his gaze lingering on Aurina’s youthful face.

“It’s just… your, uh, thing with the dragon…”

“Spare the rod, spoil the child.”

“Right, right, corporal discipline!”

The merchant nodded vigorously.

“It’s just… a bit hard to stomach.”

Richard blinked.

“Really? Where I come from, it’s common practice.”

The merchant’s mouth hung open.

“It’s… common?”

The beast-eared women in the group perked up, their ears twitching.

“Sorry,” Richard said, scratching his helmet.

“It’s my first time disciplining a child. I thought repeated misbehavior called for a firm hand.”

“How could you!”

Aurina swatted his helmet.

“I’m just a child!”

“Because you’re a child.”

“I’m ten thousand years old, you know!” she boasted.

“Your ancestors ran screaming from me! Gahaha!”

An old woman by the wagons muttered under her breath, “Such a spirited child, joking even after something like that.”

“Pity,” another whispered.

“Who’d have thought the great Lord Richard had such perverse tastes?”

Richard, his helmet muffling their words, didn’t hear.

“Let’s move, pack mules,” Aurina said, patting his helmet.

“And roast that meat I bought.”

The caravan lingered for two hours.

Aurina, having devoured a roasted boar, patted her full belly and climbed into the wagon she’d singed a hole into.

She spat a pile of gold coins onto the floor, curled up on them, and draped Richard’s sky-blue cloak over herself, falling into a deep sleep as if the morning’s events had never happened.

Richard watched her.

“She was scratching, biting, and spitting fire earlier. I thought she’d hate me forever.”

The lanky merchant shifted uncomfortably, wary of offending the man no one dared cross.

“Haha, something like that? She’ll remember it forever, I bet.”

“Maybe,” Richard mused.

“I’ve never seen anyone use a branch as thick as my arm to spank a child. Usually, it’s a thin switch. But she said it was too flimsy, so I snapped off a sturdier one in a fit of frustration.”

“It’s not just about thickness—it’s about firmness,” the merchant said, then froze, realizing his words.

“Wait… you’re really talking about discipline?”

“What else?”

Richard asked.

“How do you usually discipline children? You must have a family, right?”

“H resounding…”

The merchant’s laugh was strained.

“You’d have to ask my wife. I’m always out here. She usually uses a rolling pin.”

“For baking bread the kids like?”

“No, for whacking them.”

As they chatted atop their horses, inside the wagon, the subject of their scandal stirred.

Aurina, the great Red Dragon, King of Kings, slayer of seven in a single blow, opened her golden eyes.

“Think I’d forget, little insect?” she muttered, seething.

Even a dragon as proud as she had to admit: if Richard had truly intended to sow his seed, she’d have been powerless to stop him.

The thought rankled her.

Unacceptable.

In that cramped wagon, she paced in circles, claws clicking against the floor.

She was the one who sowed, not the other way around!

“Spells? Useless,” she growled.

“Like my sister, that weakling dragon, thinking her arithmetic and fancy incantations make her clever. A claw and a tail whip are worth more than all that arcane nonsense. Muscle trumps magic any day.”

Bolstered by her own logic, Aurina lifted her head high.

She was a dragon of raw power, born to dominate.

Yes, in that moment, she’d been helpless—but Richard hadn’t taken advantage, had he?

That meant she’d won, outsmarting him, even if it was a close call.

And that was fine.

Richard was the strongest of the ground-crawlers, worthy of her respect.

Dragons, after all, were humble creatures.

Her pride restored, Aurina’s gaze fell on Richard’s backpack, left conspicuously in the wagon.

“Heh, thought you could fool me by leaving it in plain sight? I’m too clever for that.”

She snatched it up and rummaged through its contents.

Richard’s fierce reaction to her prying earlier could only mean one thing: the bag held secrets vital to his survival.

Why else would he care so much?

She searched but found no diary, only books.

One by one, she flipped through them.

A piece of paper slipped out, bearing a note: “If you’re bored, try reading these.”

The first book, Serving the Lady, was a dull treatise on knightly conduct—how to praise a lady’s beauty, forsake crude desires, and pursue lofty, chaste love.

“Can’t even best a lady in combat?”

Aurina muttered, skimming further.

The book claimed such restraint earned divine favor.

She tossed it aside after finding no trace of scandal.

“Boring.”

The next, Brancantin and the Pride of Love, piqued her interest briefly.

It told of a boy inspired to knighthood after glimpsing a queen’s bedchamber, adorned with portraits of gallant knights.

The hero tied the queen’s ribbon to his lance, faced a dragon, and, in a moment of desperation, drew strength from the ribbon to slay the beast and save the kingdom.

In the end, he knelt and returned the ribbon to the queen.

Aurina blinked, baffled.

“You didn’t even bed her? What’s the point? Are all insects this foolish?”

She sped through the rest, noting with disgust that every dragon in these tales met a gruesome end.

Finally, she reached The Fallen Knight, a story of a knight who rejected noble love, indulged in base lust, and lost divine favor, only to perish under a dragon’s claws.

Aurina’s head snapped up.

“I get it!”

If Richard fell to temptation, he’d be no match for a dragon.

Grinning, she spat out a notebook and pen, scribbling down his newfound weakness.

She even sketched a triumphant image: Richard, defeated, groveling beneath her claw, enslaved to her will.

Laughing, she tucked the notebook away, curled up on her pile of gold, and drifted into a contented sleep.