# 036 Making a Model
# 036 Making a Model
My lair.
Click.
Riiip.
"Nnnggh...."
I endured the pain and pried off a single scale.
In a place where no one could see, I used my own hands to tear off the cleanest, sharpest scale from my body.
In human terms, was it like the pain of peeling off a scab once a wound had healed?
Except, not just a small wound, but more like peeling off a scab as wide as a coin.
It didn't hurt, but I withstood that subtle, stinging sort of pain and pulled the scale off.
Naturally, I wasn't ripping out raw flesh but peeling off the outer shell that covered the flesh beneath.
It didn't hurt.
It really didn't.
I simply hadn't pulled off a scale in so long I couldn't even remember the last time—it had been ages—so the long-forgotten sensation briefly startled me, that's all.
'Seems like just the other day I was dressing the High Elf in stockings.'
I'd often cut parts of my claws or talons to make into weapons, but pulling off a live scale, not one that had grown old and fallen away naturally, was something I hadn't done in almost several hundred years.
The black undergarments Sharia had found and worn.
Those were clothes I'd made by pulling live scales and processing them for my former wife, the High Elf.
Riiip.
'This ought to be enough.'
I wasn't fashioning a weapon to kill dragons, like a Dragonbane, but pulling live scales to make clothes for Sharia.
A different Dragonbane weapon for Sharia had already been prepared, and Sharia was also growing greedier, wanting to make that Dragonbane her own.
There was no need to deliberately cut off a claw; for the moment, all I needed to do was provide Sharia with the garments she would wear.
Custom-fit clothes for her.
'Come to think of it, she's completely decked out in dragon gear.'
In the future, once Sharia reached Sword Master, she would appear before the world with the physical remains of three dragons draped all over her body.
A sword made from a Red Dragon.
A dress made from a White Dragon.
And a robe and undergarments made from a Black Dragon.
What's more, if she mastered the Seven Swords to the extreme and wielded seven Dragonbanes?
The most powerful dragon slayer the world had ever seen would be born.
Throughout all of history, no woman would ever have equipped herself so thoroughly with the products of dragons.
'Meeting me really is a blessing.'
I didn't know just how far Sharia would grow, but as long as I was the one raising her, she was guaranteed to become a Sword Master at minimum.
Equipped with dragon gear, she would be able to overcome any crisis she faced with her own strength and those dragon armaments.
Coincidentally, the place we had arrived at, Shotarape City, was the perfect location for Sharia to properly experience her own abilities, which she hadn't been able to fully demonstrate so far.
'City of the Dragon Riders.'
This was a place where, in the past, dragon knights had truly been abundant—human knights who rode wyverns, a lesser species of dragon, or fairy dragons and the like, and gained considerable fame.
Perhaps because it was located in the west, there were many believers of the Church of the Heavenly Demon God, but there was even a saying: if you want to become a Dragon Rider, go to Shotarape.
My former wife, the High Elf, had also learned dragon riding in Shotarape.
I personally lent her my body, and she learned how to mount a dragon.
She alone could ride atop my dragon body.
Over the past three thousand years, only she.
If Sharia were ever to ride me....
"Hmm...."
Since I had revealed my true form for the first time in a while, I examined my figure through a mirror made of mana.
A giant body over 70 meters long.
Unlike obese-type dragons with bulging torsos and fat legs, my body was streamlined and sleek.
And golden eyes that seemed to prove my birth as a Gold Dragon.
If a child were ever born, it would surely inherit at least one of these—either the black hair or the golden eyes.
Though I had never yet sired a child.
A rider wasn't strictly necessary for a dragon, but I needed a wife.
And some of the wife candidates had also desired "offspring" as a condition for becoming my wife.
'Is it about time I started giving it some thought?'
The average lifespan of a dragon, eight thousand years.
They were said to commonly live up to ten thousand years, but many dragons failed to live out that full ten thousand years and died at relatively young ages, which dragged the average down.
I understood that.
There would be ones like me, exposed to danger from hatchlinghood and repeatedly hovering between life and death, and there would be dragons who were raised like hothouse flowers in safe places, only for their heads to go flying off at the hands of dragon slayers.
Once someone survived such life-and-death threats and built a safe, enormous lair like mine, then it was worth beginning to consider safely having offspring.
However.
I had still never impregnated anyone.
I was no eunuch.
The proportion of times I had pulled out with the High Elf was markedly low, but that didn't mean I had failed to impregnate her due to a lack of seed.
Though mating with a being of a different species and finishing inside carried an extremely low probability of pregnancy, even if the probability was abysmally low, increasing the number of independent trials to the tens or hundreds of thousands meant it would inevitably succeed one day.
With the same species?
A single creampie could fill a belly for ten months.
There was absolutely nothing wrong with my dragon seed.
Right.
It wasn't that I couldn't; it was that I hadn't.
Yet I had still never impregnated anyone.
I had lived my entire life without fear, but during my time as a human, witnessing so many facets of humanity had planted a small seed of fear in me.
The fear of whether I could have a child and raise it well.
All the humans I had been acquainted with during my hatchling days said things like, "Who ever knows what they're doing when they have kids? You just have them and become parents through hardship," but honestly, I wasn't so sure.
-Why don't you ever want to have children, Rapehal?
In fact, some of the human wife candidates had left me precisely over this issue.
If they truly loved me, they would ask why I had not had a child with them.
'Children born between different species with a lifespan gap face big problems in many ways.'
Mostly cases where the child died first due to the lifespan difference.
Half-dragons, especially half-human half-dragons, lived a hundred years at most.
I knew the tale of a certain Red Dragon who lost his half-dragon child and went mad, so I could never bring myself to consider fathering a half-dragon.
What about Sharia, I wondered.
Would she want children later on, or would she wish to spend her entire life just having sex with me?
If.
If a child I fathered were to die before me because of my lifespan, that would be a little sad.
Even losing the wife I loved was sad—
"Ah, whatever, damn it."
Children or whatever, it doesn't matter.
Because right now, I was satisfied with this life.
When I wanted sex, I had sex; when I wanted to bang, I banged; when I wanted to ravish, I ravished.
I was far too satisfied with this life to think about children.
But.
If the joy of raising a child and growing as a parent alongside it turned out to be even greater than sex....
"Polymorph."
No more idle thoughts.
It seemed that transforming into my dragon flesh had briefly given me the mindset of some kind of sage.
Twitch, twitch.
See. The moment I changed into human form, my cock was already stiffening.
'I'm falling into pointless contemplation because I haven't blown a load yet.'
Once I blew one load, I'd definitely want to blow more.
I immediately teleported to where Sharia would be waiting.
Naturally, I knew the coordinates.
The undergarments Sharia was wearing were made from my scales, and they retained coordinates that allowed me to teleport there at any time.
"Teleport."
Shaaa.
In an instant, I moved back to Shotarape City, where Sharia was.
I had left to pull off a scale and returned in barely twenty minutes.
Shaaaa.
Clattering sounds came from the shower room of the guest quarters Arvata had built underground—although it had been constructed for my visits.
The basket placed at the entrance was piled high with clothes that appeared to be what Sharia had taken off.
Which meant that, at the present moment, Sharia was....
"Sharia?"
"M-Master...?!"
From inside, I heard her yelp in fright.
I stripped off my clothes in an instant, then entered the shower room where Sharia was.
"W-Well, you see...."
Sharia was naked, covering her important parts and gauging my reaction.
Rather than being embarrassed about her nudity, she seemed to be having considerable difficulty operating the devices in front of her.
"I-I was trying to wash myself as you said, but...."
"But?"
"W-Well, I couldn't figure out where the water came from or how it worked...."
"You do it like this."
I reached forward and lightly pressed the circular metal knob.
At that, water instantly poured down from the hose above Sharia.
"......."
Sharia was speechless.
Her hair thoroughly soaked, she simply blinked and stared silently at me.
"Sharia."
I squeezed out a generous amount of foam from the dispenser mounted on the wall, then rubbed it between my hands.
"I'll wash you today."
"What? W-Wait just a moment? Hnn...?!"
Squish.
Starting by grabbing her breasts was an act any man would perform by instinct, surely.
Of course.
"Haht...! Th-That sort...! Even there...!"
"You have to scrub every nook and cranny."
"M-Master, that's you rubbing with your cock...!!"
"Isn't it better than a hand?"
A little.
After enjoying a pleasant time with Sharia.
* * *
After finishing the shower.
I dried the moisture from Sharia's body spotlessly, then led her to the place where Arvata would be waiting.
"Are you prepared?"
"Of course."
"Ah, ugh...."
Sharia recoiled at the sight of what stood beside Arvata.
"Wh-What is that...?"
"An item to measure your body shape."
Beside Arvata was a large pile of pale pink powder.
Wearing a white gown, he pushed up his glasses and smiled a sinister smile.
"In the past, I would have used a measuring tape. But that is an act that goes against my aesthetics, and it would be an impertinence toward Lord Resek."
"An impertinence?"
"How could I carelessly touch Lord Resek's woman? No matter how much I may craft clothing that fits the body perfectly. I cannot permit even the slightest brush against her."
"Wh-Why...?"
"Because this body belongs only to me. No one else may touch this body. Even if it were just a brush against it. Hah, haah...."
Arvata hugged himself, kissing his own shoulder.
Sharia looked disgusted, but it was precisely that perversion and love for his ideal physique that had kept me in fairly long-standing dealings with this fellow.
If this fellow were ever reborn as a phantom beast, he would surely reincarnate as a unicorn.
"However, as the one who must create the garments, I cannot simply work by eye. Since I am using Lord Resek's scales, they must not be used carelessly. So what I devised is this powder."
Arvata scooped the pale pink powder into a paper cup, then poured water inside and stirred it with a chopstick.
"If I do this to it."
Squelch.
The pale pink powder quickly solidified into a viscous, slime-like substance, and Arvata pushed his finger inside.
"Ta-da."
"Wh-What is that?"
"A substance I developed while researching slimes. Its name is Alginate."
A powder that hardened quickly and could be removed easily.
At the same time, if one later filled the inside with plaster and let it set, a mold could easily be created.
"This powder acts as the mold, much like a casting frame when forging a sword."
"Th-Then does that make me the sword?"
"Yes. Arvata. Here are the scales. Process them and return while I take the cast."
"Could there be any doubt? Hwoo, hwoo...."
Arvata received my scales and left the room.
From the container full of Alginate powder, I scooped out a generous dipperful, sprinkled water into it, and mixed it directly by hand.
"Sharia."
"Yes...?"
"Take them off."
Completely naked.
"From now on, I'm going to spread this all over your body, bit by bit."