Chapter 8 ….
After escaping the village that had oppressed her for so long, Sweet Pea arrived at a seaside with Lisianshus.
It was dawn, before the sun had risen, when the black dragon landed on the empty white sand beach. Sweet Pea staggered with exhaustion as she stepped down from his foot and turned around—only to see that he had already returned to his human form.
“Thank you… for helping me.”
“Thanks to you, I had quite an entertaining experience too.”
“…”
“It’s rather fascinating to observe how far humans go when their hatred reaches its peak.”
Though he said it was fascinating, his expression was filled with irritation.
“In any case, I hope you can manage on your own now, kid.”
Sweet Pea knew. She knew that him taking her out of the village did not mean he intended to stay with her.
Perhaps it was just pity. But the reason didn’t matter.
Sweet Pea had no intention of letting him go.
“W-Where do you think you’re going, leaving behind your mate!”
Lisianshus, who seemed ready to leave at any moment, gave her a puzzled look.
“Mate?”
Because he had reached out to her, Sweet Pea felt gratitude and a special connection toward him, regardless of his true intentions. But that didn’t mean Lisianshus felt the same way.
He hadn’t harmed her yet, but he was still a dragon—he could easily kill her if he wished.
But Sweet Pea, a limping girl who wasn’t even an adult yet, could never survive in this world alone. That was why she had never dared to run from Madam Mago until now.
“If you abandon me here, I’ll keep calling your name, Lisianshus.”
“Hah—.”
“From morning till night, without rest, I’ll keep calling.”
His face now openly twisted with annoyance.
“Kid.”
His voice sounded kind at first, but when he bent down to meet her eyes, the words that came out were anything but kind.
“Do you know why I helped you?”
“B-because I’m your mate…”
“It’s because I pitied you.”
“….”
“Just like you humans pity a small, injured beast, I only felt sorry for you.”
“….”
“You were a cute, good child suffering among unkind humans, so I merely gave you the chance to choose your own life.”
“….”
“But you shouldn’t keep overstepping.”
She could feel it—if she pushed him any further, he really might hurt her. Yet, Sweet Pea couldn’t give up.
“If it were me…”
Straightening up, he tried to leave, but she grabbed his hand again, speaking with all her strength to keep her voice from trembling.
“Once I took in that poor animal, I’d take responsibility for it.”
“….”
“Until it grew up and could live on its own.”
What she really wanted to say was simple:
Protect me until I’m old enough to survive on my own.
It was a bold and shameless request. Lisianshus couldn’t help but laugh in disbelief. The only leverage she had was that she was his mate.
“Would you really let your mate starve and die alone?”
“…Kid. Being a dragon’s ‘mate’ isn’t a weapon. It’s your greatest weakness.”
Then, as though reciting a fairytale, he began:
“A long time ago, the god above declared to the dragons who wished to become gods themselves:
‘When the time comes, each of you shall have a mate, and that will be the beginning of the game to become a god.’”
The tale he told was one she had never heard in any myth before.
The rules of this game were simple:
-
If a dragon takes the heart of another dragon’s mate, they grow stronger.
-
A dragon who loses their mate slowly dies.
-
The dragon who protects their mate until the end and survives becomes a god.
It sounded simple enough, but reality was not.
“Live as though you’re not a dragon’s mate. Run from me if you must.”
“….”
“That’s the only way you’ll live longer.”
Lisianshus had no intention of protecting his young mate, Sweet Pea.
She thought hard. Could she really survive by pretending not to be his mate?
But even if she distanced herself, there was no guarantee other dragons wouldn’t notice. And if she stayed by him, others would surely see through it quickly. Worse, he seemed unwilling to protect her.
Though he had saved her several times already, relying only on his goodwill felt far too unstable.
For a brief moment, Sweet Pea hesitated. Should she leave him? Or…
“Sweet—”
At that moment, she remembered a conversation long ago with her sister, Erica.
‘Why do you keep avoiding Thomas when he only wants to play?’
‘He’s too big and scary!’
‘Sometimes the very thing that seems scariest can become your strongest ally.’
‘But at first, Thomas said he didn’t want to play with me because I was small!’
‘Even someone who disliked you at first…’
Her sister’s voice echoed as if she had heard it only yesterday.
‘Even that kind of person can become your strongest pillar.’
Maybe the one my sister meant… was him.
Her sister had believed that—and died because of it. Should she really follow her words? She doubted it. But except for things about dragons, Erica had never once been wrong.
Lisianshus, who seemed to see her as nothing more than a pest, was still before her. Sweet Pea clutched his hand tightly. Their hands bore the shared mark of mates.
“If another dragon kills me, then you’ll die too. Aren’t you afraid of death, Lisianshus?”
“Death comes for everyone in its time. Why should I fear it?”
“Do dragons die naturally too?”
“Eventually.”
“Then you’ll die too?”
“Yes.”
“But… that time isn’t now.”
“You’re a tiresome child. I’ll give you credit for trying to persuade me, but I don’t care when I die.”
He stared at her, both irritated and curious about what she’d say next.
“Then…”
And then his expression changed at her next words.
“I’ll make you want to live.”
At that moment, the rising sun shone brightly on Sweet Pea, dyeing her in red. Lisianshus felt an illusion—as though someone else overlapped with the stubby little girl before him. Someone he once knew had spoken similar words.
“I’ll make life so fun that you won’t want to die.”
“….”
“So protect me with your life.”
Wanting to live, she spoke sweet promises—only to demand he risk everything for her small, fragile life.
“What a shameless little brat…”
Utterly dumbfounded, he stepped back, but Sweet Pea limped forward two steps and threw her arms around his waist, clinging tightly as though she would never let go.
Her face flushed red with embarrassment, but she chose shamelessness over losing everything.
“Ah… From now on, call me Sweet, Lisián.”
“…Lisián? Kid, you’ve lost your mind.”
“Then should I call you Lisi instead?”
“That’s even worse.”
His sigh carried no intention of coldly casting her away, which reassured her just a little. Sweet Pea smiled faintly, though Lisianshus never once returned the smile.
Sweet Pea had done chores like cleaning and fetching water under Madam Mago, but she had almost no other social experience. Her only companions had been the forest and animals—she had never had even one human friend. She didn’t know how to get close to others.
But she did understand one thing clearly:
Money.
The truth that one needed money to survive.
“Lisián, do you not have money?”
On a cliff by the sea where he intended to camp, Sweet Pea asked bluntly.
For a dragon, sleeping outdoors wasn’t unusual. But she was human—she couldn’t sleep outside every night.
“I’m not human like you.”
“I know. But I am human.”
“…Haa. Honestly…”
Lisianshus sighed—the second sigh she had heard from him today.
“Shall I steal someone’s house for you, little mate?”
He asked mockingly, but Sweet Pea shook her head. Knowing there was no helping it, she was prepared to camp with him tonight.
“Just for tonight, we’ll sleep here.”
He looked incredulously at the little girl who had already curled up to sleep.
“You’re not planning to sneak off while I sleep, are you…?”
The poor child even wielded an impressive word like “sneak off,” her pitiful expression only making the tactic more effective.
“I’ll leave while you’re awake, so don’t worry.”
“Even if I’m awake, or asleep, you can’t abandon me…”
“You talk too much. Go to sleep already.”
“Yes. Good night, Lisi…”
“…Li…si…”
He wanted to grab her by the collar and shake her for calling him such a horrid nickname, but restrained himself.
She wasn’t even a dragon—just a little girl. Losing his temper over childish words would be unbecoming of someone who had lived for ages. Besides, a bit of annoyance in his long, dull life wasn’t entirely unwelcome. It would all end soon anyway.
Because there was one rule of the dragons’ game he hadn’t told her:
-
If a dragon takes the heart of another dragon’s mate, they grow stronger.
-
If they don’t, their own mate dies.
-
A dragon who loses their mate slowly dies.
-
The dragon who protects their mate to the end becomes a god.
-
These rules apply to every dragon alive.
If Lisianshus didn’t kill another dragon’s mate within 14 days of Sweet Pea’s awakening as his mate, she would die.
And the dragon who lost their mate would die within a year.
If he endured this troublesome child for a little while, it would soon be over. Then he could return to where he belonged. Sweet Pea’s death would be regrettable, but not enough to bring him grief. He was the kind of being who could turn away from such sorrow in exchange for peace.
When the noisy child finally fell asleep and night came, peace at last returned to him. The familiar silence reminded him of that place.
The forest grave, always quiet except when that wretched child appeared. He closed his eyes, recalling the air, the faint scent that lingered there.
I’ll go to where you are.
Whether it was the grave where her body lay, or the world of souls after death—
Wherever it might be.
