The Devotion of Dragon Knight Zeke
"Everyone, say hi. This is Plang, our new party member."
"Hi! I'm Plang!"
Clinging to my chest, Plang flashed a bright, innocent smile at Tier and Daphne. Tier growled, clearly jealous of the sight.
"Grrr. The boss is my mate."
"Plang's your mate too, right, Berg?"
Ignoring Tier's growling—thanks to her plummeting intelligence—Plang just tilted her head like it was no big deal.
"Tier, Plang's my woman just like Daphne. Get along, okay?"
Tier looked deeply displeased at my firm words, thumping her chair-back tail against the floor and pouting her lips. Looked like I'd have to soothe her again tonight.
"Um... I'm Berg's wife too. Nice to meet you, Plang."
"Yeah! Nice to meet you, sis!"
Daphne greeted her cautiously, glancing at Tier. Plang's "sis" lit up her face like she'd always longed for it. Even Tier, the queen of jealousy, seemed a bit envious of Plang's pure attitude.
Time for the household head to lay down the law.
"Plang, treat both Tier and Daphne like big sisters, got it?"
"Got it! Tier-sis, Daphne-sis."
Seeing Plang grin goofily—her bulk belying her cheer—Tier's expression finally softened a touch. With Daphne already in the bag, the side-wife recruitment path was wide open. What mattered to Tier was her main-wife status; as long as I treated her that way, she'd have no complaints. Plus, with her intelligence tanked and cuteness maxed, they wouldn't clash much.
"Tier-sis! Can I touch your tail?"
"Uh, sure?"
Look at that. Already rubbing up against Tier and acting all cute.
"Um... Berg."
"Yeah?"
While Tier and Plang squealed, Daphne whispered quietly.
"Plang's horn... it's broken, right?"
"Yeah, it snapped off after Zeke hit it. Then she came clinging to me, saying it felt good... and somehow we ended up here."
Daphne's face shifted to understanding, then pity as she glanced at Plang.
"Ah... Dragonkin horns don't break easily—it's not well-known—but when they do, they regress like that."
"Like infantilization?"
"Yes. Back during dragonkin hunts, they targeted horns to make slaves... lots of inhumane stuff. First time I've seen it myself."
"Hmm... with her like this, any issues joining the party?"
"No. Dragonkin powers are instinctual, so it's fine. Her body's unchanged—just mentally younger."
I'd worried Plang's bald head might make her a party leech, but Daphne smiled reassuringly. No need. I'd wanted her as a fixed turret anyway; with my orders, she'd be good. Train her gradually, and even regressed, her racial genius would pull more than her weight. Train a dog right, and it earns its keep—what's a dragonkin?
Some womb-pounding and kisses should cover her rewards.
I was mulling Plang's training plan when a sudden worry hit me.
"Oh, right! Any guild penalties?"
If it was controversial back then, there'd be laws now. I asked casually to avoid suspicion, and Daphne smiled.
"Should be fine. No slave contract or binding magic, right? Zeke's at fault anyway—tell the guild about the transfer, and we're good."
"Good... Anyway, keep an eye on her. She's pretty unstable."
"Leave it to me. Hehe."
I stroked her head like she was the only one I trusted; she squirmed bashfully.
"How's the belly?"
"Hmm... feels like it'll come soon?"
Daphne rubbed her lower belly uncertainly. She'd held out long enough. Despite our weird start, I hadn't even slept with her yet. Elf. Fuck, an elf pussy. Leaving that untouched? No way. Once she popped it out, she'd truly be mine.
"Eek! Pet Plang too!"
Mid-flirt with Daphne, Plang dragged Tier's hand and charged me. Tier pretended nonchalance but aimed her sparkling eyes my way. Feeling their soft warmth as I petted them, Zeke faintly crossed my mind.
Zeke... bro... sorry, man.
Saliva pooled at the thought of more lies.
+++
"So... Plang's transferring from Zeke's party to Berg's?"
"Yeah!"
The receptionist eyed Plang's nodding, beaming face with pity. As a quasi-public guild, she knew about horns—her gaze stuck to the broken stump.
"It broke on Zeke's greatsword during the 10th-floor boss fight?"
"Yes. Healer was mid-heal when it snapped off... sigh."
I gave a bitter smile; Plang burrowed into my arms, worried. Adorably killable.
"First time seeing a dragonkin horn break—heard stories, though. Per Berg, Zeke's responsible, so no penalties for your party."
"Phew..."
"But we'll cross-check Zeke's story and proceed."
"Of course."
I kept my bitter smile but stood firm; her wary eyes softened. Mana orb scan done—no magic on Plang. Just needed Zeke's confession.
"Given the issue, wait in guest room 2? We'll send for Zeke and need time."
"Sure. C'mon, Plang."
"Yeah!"
Holding her hand, we entered the ornate guest room. A guild servant brought tea and snacks. Plang munched like a happy squirrel. How long had I groped her out of boredom?
Knock. Knock.
The door burst open roughly.
"Plang!"
Zeke, escorted by the receptionist, looked haggard with worry. High-rank looks marred by flaws.
"Plang! You okay?"
He lunged for her hand; the receptionist and I blocked him.
"Huh? Berg?"
He blinked oddly. We treated him like a criminal. Sensing it, he hesitated as the receptionist spoke.
"Zeke?"
"Yes..."
"Did you strike Plang's horn during the 10th-floor boss?"
"Uh... yes. She blacked out, then woke up, I heard."
"Used mana or skills?"
"N-no. She bounced off a low warrior's attack into my greatsword."
Now the receptionist eyed me calmly. But I had nothing to fear. My grip wouldn't snap her horn.
"Zeke, anything special about that greatsword?"
"N-no. Just my dad's heirloom."
She caught on, ordering the servant.
"Sera, fetch the master from the forge—say guest room business."
"Yes."
Receptionist's authority shone—smooth commands.
"Wh-what's going on?"
Heavy air; she soothed Zeke to wait. I sat confidently—no guilt. Panic would make me look bad.
Thud. Thud.
A stocky, bushy-bearded, muscled dwarf stomped in.
Oh... a dwarf.
The receptionist bowed to his glaring eyes.
"Master, had to call you."
"These punks need me?"
Couldn't gauge my hidden power; he flexed irritably. Laughable, but buttering up a master craftsman hurt none.
"If okay, check this greatsword?"
"Huh?"
He frowned, then snatched Zeke's sword.
"Hey?!"
Zeke panicked, but sensing procedure, retracted his hand.
Ting!
"Hmm..."
Dwarf flicked and inspected it, then pulled a small ore from his pocket, rubbing the blade.
Scrape.
"Hoo..."
Something piqued him—eyes sharpening.
Please...
Honestly, I figured Zeke's sword or Plang's issue. Nothing else fit. I'd grilled her en route—no horn memories. Kid's brain-fried... But I recalled her normal self vaguely disliking his sword. Combining dragon knight title, broken horn, sword aversion—one possibility. If wrong, I'm screwed. She'd been fine when handed off—Zeke saw it. Even slim odds tensed me.
Then, as if my prayers worked, awe crept over the dwarf's face examining the blade.