48. Damn Bitch
48. Damn Bitch
Looking back, until recently, I'd been practically a eunuch.
Sure, the priests' bullshit-tier miracles had healed my injuries perfectly—but the problem was, the memory of that whole ordeal didn't vanish, so my body ended up developing a rejection response to sexual function.
Not only did the occasional risqué thought die out like a candle in a vacuum, even the physiological phenomenon that's supposed to greet me every morning had completely stopped.
"Haah, haah..."
But as if mocking all those days I spent despairing over my psychological castration, the symptoms recovered the instant I faced the scene before me.
Two massive masses of flesh that even both arms couldn't fully encircle, and the deep valley formed where they pressed together...
As lingering droplets of water trickled down with gravity and vanished into the darkness, I felt the saliva pooling in my mouth stimulate my uvula as my eyes traced their path.
"Ah, th-that's. Miss Tachia, you see, the thing is..."
But the moment my body reacted to that alluring figure, the first thought that ironically popped into my head was: 'I'm screwed.'
Because no matter how unintentional it was, whether she'd forgive me or not was a whole separate issue.
Back where I used to live, a situation like this meant a minimum of three years behind bars. As a law-abiding citizen, this was never a good look.
Even if the important bits were covered up, seeing a body like this and trying to keep my downstairs from stiffening was practically impossible.
"...S-sorry."
First things first, I'd better slam my head down to hide the evidence from getting exposed.
I'd offer the best apology I could muster on the spot, and then, before committing seppuku to atone, I'd ram a spear straight through that bastard Oh Deokhun's gut first.
That insolent shit. Here I am, agonizing over whether to off myself, and that prick's probably still off having the time of his life, huh?
"I'm sorry..."
"Haah, haah."
But even as I tried to force out an apology, she just stood there blankly, without a single reproach or scream.
Along with that, my gaze, which had caught her swaying unsteadily, finally lifted from her body and began traveling up toward her face.
"...Miss Tachia?"
Unfocused eyes staring down.
Seeing her shoulders slumped like that, anyone could tell something was seriously wrong.
"Ah, uu, aah..."
Yeah.
She looked like she could collapse right then and there.
-Thud.
As if to prove my hunch wasn't wrong, Tachia's body crumpled to the floor.
My frozen body only sprang into action the moment I realized she wasn't in any state to get up on her own.
"Miss Tachia! Wake up, Miss Tachia!"
"Haah, haah..."
Even when I grabbed her and called out to her, Tachia only let out moans.
It looked like she'd already lost consciousness, but what bothered me more was that the body temperature of the woman in my arms was far from normal.
"...She's cold."
Isn't this weird?
Steam's still billowing out of what seems to be the bathroom she just came from. And yet her skin feels like I'm touching ice, completely devoid of warmth.
"I-I'll take you to your room first."
No, think later.
Whatever the case, I couldn't just leave her here. I immediately hoisted her cold body onto my back and set foot on the stairs leading to the surface.
Thankfully, from my last visit, I'd vaguely confirmed that the workshop and living quarters were in the same building.
So for now, I decided on taking her to the bedroom and climbed the stairs step by step. As I did, I could vividly feel the sensation of her body pressing against my back with every motion.
Beyond soft—a distinctly squishy sensation.
"Haah, uu, haah..."
But even more serious than that stimulation was the weak groaning right by my ear.
Compared to the sharp, resolute attitude she'd shown during our first meeting, that contrast created a sense of depravity that held a knife to the strings of my patience.
The thought that someone so upright and haughty could come this undone, could show such a vulnerable side...
"Ugh, nghk!"
I bit my lip and endured the delusions springing up like weeds. Barely making it out to the ground floor, I moved toward her room, consciously forcing strength into each step over and over.
Yeah, hold on, Woo Hyosung. The only strong point this body's got is mental fortitude, but if even that isn't enough, try recalling the Buddha's teachings or something.
Maha-Prajna-Paramita-Hridaya Sutra. Avalokiteshvara Bodhisattva, practicing deep Prajna... Wait, what came after that again?
No, this isn't gonna cut it.
Think of something more intense to drive out the earthly desires. Like, say, that Heart Sutra remix version I once stumbled upon through the YouTube algorithm.
You know, the fusion style where they respect both Eastern and Western cultures for political correctness. I mean, the dull knocking sound of the wooden fish is surprisingly good for a beat drop...
-Squish.
Holy fucking mother of Buddha, please.
I'll pray to the statue three times a day and pay my tithes without fail, so please!
"Pfft...!"
After a relentless string of such random thoughts forcibly castrating my rational mind, I finally reached the bedroom.
The surrounding area was cluttered with tools and materials, but somehow, I managed to lay her body down on the bed and cover her with a blanket.
But no matter how much time passed, there was no sign of the cold sweat on her face going away...
"Ah, ugh..."
Dammit, did she catch some serious illness?
Figuring I couldn't just leave her like this and that getting someone would be best, I prepared to turn on my heels immediately.
To find a cleric, a doctor, or at least an acquaintance nearby who knew about her symptoms.
"Don't... go."
But in that moment, a faint murmur reached me.
I stopped in my tracks and turned around to see a hand, slipped out from under the blanket, flailing in the air.
"Don't leave... Just, wait a little longer..."
She wasn't conscious.
At most, it was just a lament—or something you'd call sleep-talking.
But the tremor I felt in that voice was vastly different from the blunt attitude she'd shown me during our first encounter.
As if telling me these weren't random mutterings, but words with solid grounding.
"I'll... follow soon, too."
With that, her hand, flailing as if in a nightmare, slowly reached out in my direction.
Even in her sleep.
Almost as if she'd instinctively sensed the presence I was giving off.
"...Yeah, okay."
I hesitated for a moment, then grabbed the abandoned chair nearby and set it beside her bed.
I knew her condition was serious, and that all I could do was pray for her to get better.
But still, I couldn't just leave behind someone who was calling for me so desperately.
"I'll stay with you just for a little while. Until you're feeling better."
If her life wasn't in immediate danger, the priority was to stay by her side, at least until her heart was at ease.
Having reached that conclusion, I held the hand reaching out to me and remained still there for some time.
The trembling that gradually faded, and the complexion that steadily improved.
As if it wasn't just my imagination, I felt the once-cold warmth slowly returning.
***
And then, a long while later when night had fallen.
-Rustle.
The moment her revitalized body sat upright, the Decayed Dragon felt a sensation brushing against her skin and looked around.
A dark room reflected in her blurry vision. And a blanket covering her body laid on the bedding.
'Collapsed again, huh.'
Tracing back the memories from before she'd lost consciousness, Tasian Failoy clutched her head and let out a deep sigh.
It couldn't be helped. It was pathetic.
Her physical body had long since exceeded its lifespan. Even maintaining a semblance of form for her crumbling, ashen body was only possible due to her innate existential force.
Even that was a side effect of suppressing the final vestiges of power she'd saved for the last time she'd rampage. As a result, the heat constantly drained from her body, leaving her with no choice but to suffer from the cold every moment.
But even more troublesome than soaking her body in boiling water every day was that the dreams she always had while sleeping lingered in her head even now, while awake.
'Tachia. If I end up dying after this fight... I have a favor to ask of you.'
A midget with disgustingly strong power and no manners.
A hopeless idiot who never took care of her own body and only meddled in others' affairs.
And the last will left by a human wench once called a Hero.
'Give them a chance. To everyone I want to keep protecting—the ones you protected, through me.'
"...That damn woman."
Isn't it a ridiculous story?
That a supreme being who now remains only in legend feels irritation toward a human who's nothing but an insect from her standpoint.
"Ungrateful little bitch."
But a dragon is an entity born with such immense power that it is considered a part of the world itself.
Every word they utter holds that much weight, and thus, even words spoken carelessly shackle them with the compulsion to uphold them.
So regardless of the weight of the matter, if a spoken word takes the form of a promise, it must be kept absolutely.
Even if the reason for making that promise was due to a whim that changed with the tides.
'Well, I've put up with it long enough.'
Even that promise made by whim ends today.
Just as she was about to leave after confirming the sun had set, Tachia suddenly felt a sensation of her hand being fixed in place and moved her gaze downward.
The man who had taken a spot beside her and fallen asleep was holding her hand, and had been doing so since before she woke up.
"...Heh, what's this?"
The moment she saw him, a dry laugh burst from her lips, and she began staring intently at the still-sleeping man.
She hadn't forgotten who he was.
An ability so powerful that it could force even an Ego Weapon whose sense of self hadn't yet bloomed to remember his name—it was an ability thoroughly imprinted upon even those called the pinnacle of all creation.
But no matter if she remembered him, she had never expected that this man would have carried her here after she collapsed.
Much less that he'd brought back the weapon she'd lent him.
'So you came back after all.'
An Ego Weapon made of mithril, no less.
To humans, it was considered the ultimate treasure. He could have easily run off with it.
Or, emboldened by that weapon and acting overconfident, he could have lost his life to a danger that showed no mercy.
Yet the very fact that he overcame all of that and made it back here proved that, among humans, this one belonged to the extraordinary.
"...Dammit."
And separate from those expectations, this current outcome was something the Decayed Dragon had never wished to welcome.
If the human who had formed a contract with her broke his promise, she would carry out the planned annihilation with her own hands.
Under that contract, the time to finally liberate all she'd suppressed until now was just around the corner. But by returning to her, he'd pushed that time further back.
"If you were already dead, you should've just stayed quiet. Had to drag things out from the grave, clinging on till the very end."
But seeing the sorry state of the armor she'd roughly thrown together for him, it wasn't hard to deduce that this guy had suffered just as much.
Even so, the fact that he survived was surely a result accompanied by the will of the weapon she'd given him. Thinking this, she snatched the spear leaning against the wall and spat out an irate voice.
"Like a damned brat of a daughter."
Toward an existence she couldn't bring herself to hate completely, even while feeling resentment.
-Vwoom.
As if in response to that voice.
The weapon forged by refining the soul of a woman once called a Hero in ages past began to quietly wail on the spot.