Chapter 51 : The Dragon’s Nonsense 

Sophia’s voice carried a weary lilt as she murmured, “Ugh… I barely slept last night.” 

“Was it charity work again?”

Richard asked, his brow furrowing with concern. 

She nodded, her golden hair catching the dim light.

“Yes.” 

“You need to rest more,” Richard said, his tone gentle but firm.

“I was starting to worry something had happened to you.” 

“Something happened?”

Sophia’s eyes widened, a spark of confusion in them.

“Why would you think that?” 

“It was the tone of your letter.” 

Her expression shifted, her voice taking on a formal edge, as though reciting a sacred vow.

“I am devoted to spreading the Lord’s gospel, Richard. I’m sorry, but though we are betrothed, I do not belong to you.” 

Richard’s face flushed, and he stumbled over his words.

“That’s not what I meant.” 

“Then why the sudden return? You rushed back so quickly—what’s the matter?” 

He hesitated, then admitted, “Partly, I was worried about you. Partly, it’s about your family’s fortune. And… her.”

He gestured toward Aurina, nestled in Sophia’s arms.

“She’s a dragon, after all.” 

Aurina, indignant, puffed out her chest.

“I’m just a child!” 

Sophia set the girl down gently, echoing with a soft smile, “She’s just a child.” 

Aurina’s sharp eyes darted between them.

Richard stood nearby, his armor still bearing the faint scars of battle, the wounds no longer fresh enough for her to prod.

Then her gaze fell on Sophia, draped in a crimson robe that hugged her form.

A fine female, Aurina thought, but the strongest little insect—Richard—was right there, watching her like a hawk. 

Their eyes locked, a silent challenge passing between them. 

“I swear,” Richard said, breaking the tension, “I saw her swallow that ruby-encrusted silver teapot from Frostsilver. Then she chased us off, and we never got it back…” 

Aurina glanced at Sophia, then, with a mischievous glint, tiptoed and gave Sophia’s chest a playful poke. 

Richard’s face turned scarlet, and he whipped his head away.

Sophia, unfazed, smiled down at Aurina.

“Little sister, you’ll grow up one day too.” 

Aurina’s enthusiasm dimmed.

She’d expected a shriek, a blush, or even tears—reactions she delighted in provoking.

Men would roar or weep; women would flush or turn away.

But Sophia’s calm response made the act feel trivial, as though her hand had merely brushed against ordinary flesh. 

“No. Never,” Aurina declared, withdrawing her hand with a solemn frown.

“This king will reclaim her throne.” 

Sophia blinked.

“What?” 

Aurina thumped her flat chest proudly.

“This king’s chest will never bear the marks of a female. Never.” 

Sophia’s gaze flicked to Richard, seeking an explanation.

He sighed, turning back to them.

“She’s the daughter of the Dread Dragon. Her real daughter.” 

“That’s not surprising,” Sophia said, tilting her head.

“But what’s she talking about?” 

Richard waved a hand, accustomed to Aurina’s wild ramblings.

“Dragons are like that.” 

Aurina, recovering from her brief discomfort, studied the pair before her—Richard and his fiancée.

She remembered Sophia’s silhouette in the dragon’s lair, framed by flames.

The dragon’s spirit within her stirred, undaunted by her current form.

Though she appeared as a young girl, stripped of her former majesty, this was her chance to bide her time and triumph through cunning. 

“Quack, quack…”

Aurina let out a low, gleeful chuckle, her tail thumping the floor in delight. 

Sophia pointed at her, curious.

“Even the sudden giggling?” 

“Yes,” Richard replied dryly. 

Sophia crouched down, reaching to pat Aurina’s head, but the girl dodged with a quick sway. 

“Poor thing,” Sophia said softly.

“No parents… and, I’m sorry to say, we’re the ones who killed your father.” 

Richard’s voice was firm.

“No need to apologize. Our actions were just.” 

“But she looks like a girl of eleven or twelve, orphaned from birth.”

Sophia’s eyes softened with pity.

“How could you be so cruel, Richard?” 

Aurina seized the moment, nodding vigorously.

“Yes, yes! I’m just a barefoot child, barely four feet tall!” 

Richard crossed his arms.

“I stand by my judgment.” 

Sophia shook her head.

“I’m going to change. What’s your name, little dragon?” 

“Aurina.” 

“How has Richard been treating you?” 

Aurina glanced at Richard, who stood tall and unyielding, the very picture of a carved saint from a cathedral door. 

“He…”

Aurina began, her voice dripping with accusation, “he’s always smacking my head with his iron gauntlet.” 

Sophia’s eyes narrowed at Richard.

“Is that true?” 

“I didn’t want to resort to force,” Richard said quickly, “but Aurina… she’s too dragon-like. Always stealing, never learning to trade.” 

Sophia looked at Aurina’s innocent face and sighed.

“She’s still a child, even if she’s a dragon. You can’t treat her like a beast. Maybe you’re just not good with children, being a man. I’m already worried about our future children.” 

Richard’s face lit up with a mix of embarrassment and quiet joy. 

Aurina, however, wasn’t pleased.

Her eyes gleamed with mischief as she recalled one of Richard’s darker secrets.

“One night, it was pitch black, and I smelled blood. I got up from my bed of gold coins and saw Richard, that beast of burden, whipping himself!” 

Richard paled.

Sophia’s voice sharpened.

“And then?” 

“I pounced and discovered his secret,” Aurina said gleefully. 

Richard coughed violently. 

“Stop coughing,” Sophia snapped.

“I should’ve known, Richard. You didn’t do something depraved, did you?” 

“No!” 

“I found his secret,” Aurina chirped, delighted.

“I licked his wound, and he couldn’t stand it. My saliva must be deadly to him! In the end, he had to use his ultimate move—the Holy Fist!” 

Sophia frowned, puzzled.

“So, Richard used the Holy Fist on you?” 

“Yes!”

Aurina nodded proudly.

“The same move that killed my father.” 

What did that prove?

Even trapped in this frail, girlish body, she was formidable enough to force the strongest little insect to unleash his greatest strength. 

Sophia stood, hands on her hips.

“Richard!” 

“I had no choice,” he muttered.

“It was my fault, I admit…” 

Aurina’s jaw dropped.

The strongest little insect, cowering before a female?

She glanced at Sophia, then back at Richard.

Could Sophia be the true strongest insect?

No, impossible.

Only the one who slayed her father could claim that title. 

Was there some hidden power at play? 

Aurina’s mind whirled, nearly overheating. 

As Sophia scolded Richard, Aurina mimicked her, planting her hands on her hips and leaning forward, wagging a finger.

“I’m just a child!” 

Sophia burst into laughter.

“Alright, you’re adorable, Aurina. I’m going to change. Come with me.” 

“Okay!” 

Sophia reached for Aurina’s hand, but the girl grabbed hers first, tugging her toward the bedroom.

She threw a taunting glance back at Richard, sticking out her pink tongue.

“Little insect, always just a little insect!” 

Richard watched as Aurina gleefully pulled his fiancée away. 

Half an hour later, Sophia, now dressed and made up, rushed out, her voice urgent.

“Richard, Richard!” 

“What’s wrong?” 

“Aurina’s upset. She climbed out the window and disappeared.” 

Richard found her on the rooftop.

The young dragoness, clad in a white dress with fiery red hair, sat hunched like a duck, her face etched with sorrow.

The midday sun seemed to dim, casting her in the mournful glow of a fading sunset. 

Her dragon tail curled between her legs, flicking up and down.

In its shadow, Aurina glimpsed echoes of her former glory, and the weight of her loss deepened.

The events in the bedroom had only sharpened the sting of her diminished state—a dragon without her might. 

“Aurina?”

Richard called cautiously. 

She turned, tears streaming down her face, startling him. 

“Don’t do anything rash,” he said.

“You can’t transform now. Jumping would be… bad.” 

He regretted the words instantly. 

“How can I not despair?” she cried. 

His mind fumbled.

“Even if you jumped, you wouldn’t die. It’d just hurt. So… don’t.” 

“What would I jump for?”

Aurina stood, her small feet pattering across the roof tiles as she ran to him.

With a nimble leap, she perched on his shoulders. 

“Wait, I’m not wearing my helmet!” 

From atop the strongest little insect, her spirits lifted.

The gloom melted away.

One day, she’d reclaim her title as the red dragon champion. 

“Gah!”

Aurina let out a triumphant cry, pointing forward.

“Beast of burden, onward!”