The Dragon's Reverse Scale (17)

The red warning flashed across the interface like fresh blood on snow. My fingers froze above the hidden panel, the familiar pulse of the System suddenly cut off mid-breath. Invalid access. As if the damn thing had grown a conscience overnight and decided to slam the door in my face.

I leaned back in the ornate chair, the silk robes of this borrowed body whispering against the lacquered wood. The candlelight in the tent flickered, casting long shadows that seemed to mock me. Outside, the low murmur of soldiers preparing for tomorrow’s march filtered through the thick fabric—metal on metal, horses stamping, the occasional sharp laugh that died too quickly. They had no idea their commander was currently locked out of his own power.

Of all the times to throw an error at me.

The last time I had touched her reverse scale, the world itself had bent. Liu Bei—no, Lady Liu Bei—had looked at ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠me with those wide, betrayed eyes right before the Memory Rewrite took hold. One careful suggestion, one gentle press of my will against the fragile walls of her loyalty, and the Hero of Shu had become something far more… pliable. But the System had warned me then, too. A small tooltip hovering at the edge of my vision: Caution: High emotional resistance detected.

Now it simply refused me outright.

I closed my eyes and reached again, mentally tracing the invisible threads that connected me to the women whose fates I had begun to rewrite. Cao Cao’s sharp ambition, now curved into something sweeter and more possessive whenever she looked my way. Sun Quan’s fiery pride, slowly melting into obedient heat. And Lady Liu Bei… the purest one, the one whose corruption tasted like the finest wine.

Nothing. Just silence and that mocking red error.

A soft rustle at the tent entrance pulled me back. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠The flap lifted, revealing a slender figure outlined by torchlight from behind. Long hair cascaded over armored shoulders, the distinctive phoenix hairpin glinting—Zhuge Liang, or rather the brilliant strategist now answering to the name Zhuge Kongming in this twisted history. Her intelligent eyes scanned the dim interior before settling on me with that familiar mix of calculation and something warmer I had carefully cultivated.

“My lord,” she said, voice low and melodic, the formal address carrying a subtle undercurrent I had trained into her over weeks of careful manipulation. “The scouts have returned. Lady Liu Bei’s forces are three days behind schedule. The fault appears to lie with her… distraction.”

Her lips curved into the smallest smile. She knew exactly what kind of distraction I had planted in the gentle leader’s mind. The memory of Liu Bei’s flushed cheeks and trembling hands the last time we met flashed through my thoughts, and for a moment the System flickered—

The option hovered there, tantalizing. My pulse quickened. So the error wasn’t a lockout—it was a test. The System wanted to see if I would push forward even when it pretended to refuse me. Typical. Even the damn cheat ability had a sadistic streak.

Zhuge Liang stepped closer, the scent of ink and sandalwood following her. Her fingers brushed my shoulder with calculated intimacy, the gesture still slightly hesitant. I had only rewritten forty percent of her loyalty so far. The rest fought beautifully, making every small victory taste sharper.

“You seem troubled, my lord,” she murmured. “Should I… ease your mind?”

The offer was genuine. I had made sure of that. The brilliant tactician who once would have plotted my downfall now offered herself as a tool for stress relief with only the faintest blush coloring her scholarly cheeks.

I reached up and caught her wrist, feeling the rapid flutter of her pulse. The System notification pulsed brighter, the [YES] option glowing like an invitation.

Fine. Let’s play.

“Lock the tent,” I told her, voice dropping into the register that always made their eyes glaze over. “Then come here. I need to review our… strategy.”

As the heavy flap fell shut behind her, the error message finally dissolved. In its place, new ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠text scrolled across my vision in elegant crimson characters.

I smiled in the darkness as Zhuge ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Liang’s clever fingers began working at the fastenings of my robes. The game had never been fair. But that was exactly how I liked it.

Let them keep their pride, their kingdoms, their precious chastity for now.

I would take everything—starting with the dragon’s most sensitive scale.