The air in the long, ornate hallway, on the third floor of the Bahamut familia manor was thick with an unspoken tension, almost tangible enough to suffocate.
Draco, his broad shoulders squared, exited Bahamut's room with a forced nonchalance that belied the storm raging within him.
His steps, usually confident and resonant, felt strangely leaden, each footfall a heavy beat against the frantic drum of his heart.
The scent of her….a delicate blend of exotic peaches, lavender, and something unique…..clung to him, a subtle, intoxicating anchor to the moment he'd just fled.
He didn't dare look back, not even a sidelong glance.
He knew what he would see: the same flush on her cheeks, the same lingering desire in her luminous silver eyes that he felt mirroring his red ones.
Straightening his clothing, a useless gesture to calm his churning insides, he set a determined course for his office on the same third floor.
Moments later, Bahamut emerged from her room, her movements graceful but imbued with a similar, nervous energy.
Instead of following Draco, she turned towards the grand staircase, her destination the kitchen on the first floor.
Preparations for lunch, she told herself, a mantra to quiet the clamor in her own mind.
Her hands trembled almost imperceptibly as she smoothed a stray strand of silver hair.
The atmosphere between them was undeniably weird, a fragile membrane stretched taut over the chasm of their mutual yearning.
It couldn't be helped, though.
The situation, after years of patient, agonizing restraint, was just that tempting.
Draco and Bahamut had shown a remarkable degree of self-control since they had officially started dating over five years ago.
Their relationship, built on a foundation of respect, shared purpose, and a deep, abiding affection, had always possessed an incandescent spark.
But they had made a solemn promise: no further steps until Draco came of age.
A simple, honorable agreement, yet one that had demanded immense discipline from two beings whose connection felt predestined.
Soon after, fate had introduced another cruel twist, wrenching them apart for over five years while Draco embarked on a journey to receive treatment for his mysterious condition.
Now, after what felt like an eternity, they were finally reunited.
That initial, cautious embrace at their reunion, had shattered any lingering doubts, confirming with startling clarity that their emotions were still as raw, as potent, as the very first day they'd confessed their feelings.
The promise, had been fulfilled.
Draco was not only of age, but well past it, his experiences having forged him into a man far older than his years.
The circumstances, too, conspired to challenge their resolve.
The other members of the Bahamut familia, the vibrant, chaotic heart of their home, had departed on an expedition two day prior, and were not expected to return for several days.
The manor, usually bustling with life and laughter, was eerily quiet, save for themselves.
The only potential worry would have been Aasterinian, their guest, but she resided on the first floor, a floor and several sets of stairs removed from their rooms on the third.
Moreover, sound-canceling magic tools, a standard luxury in any well-appointed familia home, were expertly installed throughout the upper floors, ensuring privacy from both curious ears and accidental intrusions.
There was almost nothing, physically speaking, stopping them from finally indulging each other in that moment, from crossing the final, sacred line in their relationship.
Draco, his senses still buzzing, wanted nothing more than to ravish his cute, petite dragon goddess.
Every fiber of his being screamed for it.
And he could tell, through the brief, charged glances and the electric silence, that Bahamut desired him just as fiercely.
Yet, in the end, they both held back.
Despite the overwhelming urge, they didn't go through with it, their ingrained restraint, cultivated over years, triumphing over raw instinct.
There were several things that needed to be done first, Draco reasoned, trying to inject logic into the chaotic swirl of his desire.
Foremost among them, he wanted to create the right mood for the situation.
While succumbing to primal lust in that moment would undoubtedly have been pleasurable, a raw, explosive release, Draco knew it wasn't what he truly wanted for their first time.
He envisioned an experience steeped in intimacy, romance, and shared anticipation…..something elevated, something worthy of their long wait, something that would make the experience much more....much more memorable.
'I have waited over eight years for this day,' Draco thought, leaning heavily against the polished oak doorframe of his office, 'waiting a few hours more should be doable.'
He took a deep, shuddering breath, consciously urging his sizzling libido to calm down, to channel that potent energy into something productive.
Now seated at his massive mahogany desk, the familiar weight of responsibility settling over him, Draco decided to finally take a rigorous look at the copy of his updated status sheet Bahamut had handed to him.
The parchment, crisp and clean, felt cool against his fingertips, a stark contrast to the heat still thrumming beneath his skin.
"Almost level eight, huh," Draco muttered aloud, his voice rougher than usual as he inspected his updated stats.
His eyes scanned the familiar categories: Strength, Endurance, Dexterity, Agility, Magic.
Each one presented a staggering number, numerical values that far surpassed any known adventurer.
But what truly caught his attention were the question marks.
The Falna system, designed by the gods themselves, could no longer assign a grade to his current abilities, a series of enigmatic '?' filling several spaces where ranks like S, SS, or SSS would typically reside.
It was both exhilarating and unsettling.
The maximum capacity of excelia he could absorb had increased by a decent amount as well, a seemingly minor detail that spoke volumes about his evolving potential.
Scrolling down the sheet, Draco's gaze moved towards his congenital abilities…..those innate powers he was born with, often dormant until awakened by specific triggers or conditions.
And he was very surprised with what he saw.
Two abilities that were previously unknown, either unquantifiable by the Falna or simply inactive, were now visible.
However, there was frustratingly little explanation on their specific functions.
The first ability was listed as 'Spirit Awakening'...an ability that enabled him access to his spirit heritage.
Draco already knew part of how this ability worked, having unleashed its devastating power in the war five years ago, a memory that still sent shivers down his spine.
The surge of elemental energy, the brief but potent transformation, the feeling of power coursing through his veins…..it had been terrifyingly effective, and had saved them all from certain doom. But the Falna offered no new insights, merely a confirmation of its existence.
The second ability, however, was an enigma.
'Spirit Blessing,' it read.
Draco didn't know much about it; he had a vague, persistent idea about its true nature.
"Spirit Blessing, huh, sounds like this might be the ability that boosted the others' growth speed," Draco speculated, tapping a finger thoughtfully against the parchment.
He had always harbored a sneaky suspicion that one of his previously unknown or unquantifiable abilities at the time was boosting the growth of others around him.
Else, there was simply no way to explain the ridiculously fast growth of his familia members. Even though he had put them through extremely rigorous training regimes, pushed them to their absolute limits, and demanded ridiculous quotas, their growth speed still wouldn't have been that fast.
Their excelia accumulation was unprecedented, their skill development accelerating at an impossible rate.
Comparing them to other first-class adventurers, even legendary ones, his familia members seemed to defy the natural laws of growth.
This 'Spirit Blessing' finally offered a plausible explanation.
"Sigh, I can only slowly experiment with it," Draco concluded, a mixture of excitement and frustration swirling within him.
He didn't really know much beyond its probable effect on growth.
What were its activation conditions?
Was it passive or active?
How many people could it affect simultaneously?
Did he need to be within their vicinity for its effects to work, or was it a permanent imprint?
Did it work on people outside the Bahamut Familia, or was it limited by their connection to him? There were so many questions, and currently, no answers.
He decided to log it as a priority for future observation and controlled experimentation.
Perhaps he could subtly test it with new recruits.
Shaking his head to clear the lingering puzzlement, Draco moved on, his eyes moving towards his development abilities.
These were the skills adventurers earned at each level-up, choices usually presented by their deity.
'I don't think that I have chosen any abilities myself since level four,' Draco mused.
He began reading the descriptions of the listed abilities, nodding in approval at their utility and synergy with his existing skills.
However, upon reaching the fifth development ability, Draco frowned.
It wasn't disappointment in the fourth and fifth abilities themselves; quite the contrary, he loved the choices that had been made on his behalf, recognizing their immense value in his arsenal. The frown stemmed from a mismatch in numbers.
There should have been six development abilities.
One for each level up.
He was Level 7, soon to be 8, implying he had passed through levels 5, 6, and 7.
'Is it because I skipped from level five to seven?' Draco pondered, a logical explanation clicking into place. After each level up, according to the Falna system's rules, there was a chance for an adventurer to pick one development ability from a list of options.
For Draco, who always had many powerful options from his uniquely abundant development ability list, he was basically guaranteed one every level up.
However, due to the impossible feat of leveling up twice in one status update, the Falna system must have perceived it as only a single major growth event, only offering one development ability pick instead of two.
'That would be the only way to explain this error,' Draco concluded, a bitter taste in his mouth. Although he was disappointed with losing the chance at another powerful ability, he knew there was likely nothing that could be done about the situation.
Not even the deities were allowed to freely manipulate the Falna system, its rules fixed.
It was a clear limitation of the system itself, unable to fully comprehend or quantify his unique growth trajectory.
Done with reviewing his own status sheet, Draco moved on to the other documents on his desk. Before departing five years ago, he had meticulously instructed his vice-captains to maintain detailed logs of all Familia activities.
This was not merely for record-keeping, but so he could easily catch up to the current happenings upon his return.
"Luckily, they were diligent," he muttered, a small smile touching his lips as he saw the organized stack of leather-bound journals and scrolls, each one neatly dated and categorized.
He began flipping through the pages, his eyes lazily skipping past irrelevant information – mundane daily reports, minor monster skirmishes, routine supply runs, and administrative minutiae.
He was looking for anomalies, for significant events, for anything that indicated a challenge or a major shift in the familia's journey.
Draco's eyes soon lingered on the record of a specific event, his internal scanner immediately flagging it as important.
One year after his departure, the Evilus Faction…..had struck again.
The entry, terse and chilling, termed it "The Nightmare of the Twenty-Seventh Floor."
It was an event led by one of the Evilus leaders, a notorious figure named Olivas.
There wasn't much detail recorded about what exactly transpired, but it was grimly stated that many adventurers were massacred in the process.
His blood ran cold reading it, conjuring images of chaos and despair.
"Luckily no one was hurt from the Familia," he breathed a sigh of relief, scanning for any familiar names, "but this is rather surprising. Alicia actually joined the familia."
Apparently, after that nightmarish event, it was recorded that a new member had joined the Bahamut Familia: Alicia Forestlight.
'To think my sales pitch worked,' Draco chuckled internally, a rare flash of self-congratulation. He had been the one to invite Alicia to the familia.
During his journey to the valley of dragons, Draco and Aasterinian had stopped by an elven settlement.
This was where he met Alicia, a young elven girl with an unyielding spirit, who wanted to protect her home and her people by becoming an adventurer.
Draco, with his knowledge, knew of her potential...a talent for magic and uncanny precision with a bow.
He had seized the opportunity, presenting the Bahamut Familia as the best option available for her, emphasizing their rigorous training, their focus on personal growth, and their commitment to justice, a contrast to the many chaotic or politically-driven familias.
Luckily, it had worked as planned, and Alicia had actually joined the Bahamut Familia instead of the more famous, though perhaps less personally tailored, Loki Familia.
This small victory brought him a measure of grim satisfaction amidst the dark news.
Moving past some more miscellaneous information…..records of purchases, resource acquisition, minor conflicts…..Draco's eyes soon landed on information which made his blood boil.
His tail subconsciously lashed out against the side of his desk, producing a sharp thwack that rattled the inkwell.
Half a year after the twenty-seventh floor nightmare, the Bahamut Familia had embarked on its first deep-floor expedition, a monumental undertaking for any Familia.
However, around the 43rd floor, they were ambushed by remnants of the Evilus forces and an unknown, mysterious group.
The log described the battle as disastrous, the word "nearly died" being repeated in several harrowing paragraphs, conveying the sheer desperation of the encounter.
A Juggernaut, one of the dungeon's most terrifying and indiscriminate monsters, was even spawned in the process, a cataclysmic turn of events that would have slaughtered them all.
The only reason they survived, the log starkly detailed, was because Vasileios had barely kited the Juggernaut, drawing its relentless fury away from the main group and buying them critical time to recover and counter-attack.
It was a brutal battle which lasted many grueling hours, pushing them beyond their physical and mental limits, but they all survived and eventually returned to the surface, albeit with a multitude of serious injuries and deep psychological scars.
"Phew," Draco exhaled, a long, ragged breath, his heart slowly calming its frantic rhythm.
He wasn't sure what he would do if he had learned that any of them had died.
The thought alone was a chilling plunge into despair.
"To think that by absorbing the Astraea Familia, the Bahamut Familia inadvertently incurred their original fate, but managed to avert it," Draco muttered, a new, unsettling realization dawning on him.
He remembered the tragic fate that was to befall the Astraea Familia.
By integrating its members and some of their ideals into his own familia, he had woven their destiny with his.
He had changed who faced this particular brand of peril, but perhaps not the peril itself.
His actions, meant to save, had merely shifted the target.
"I really should be careful who I try to save," he mused, pondering on the topic for several minutes, grappling with the implications of his influence.
The weight of unintended consequences settled heavily on his shoulders.
With his mind calm and clear again, Draco continued reading.
After the incident, many other Familias, outraged by the evilus resurgence and the appearance of the unknown group, had formed a coalition to track them.
However, all traces had vanished.
Draco frowned, seeing this; the evilus were now like ghosts, their presence felt but never truly pinned down, implying a deeper, more organized network than merely rogue remnants.
The rest of the information from that point was mostly trivial: uneventful expeditions, continued training, minor explorations.
But four new members had joined the familia a year ago, which was good.
However, he noted, they were all girls.
Cecil, a human.
Iselina, a wolf-kin.
Schau, a pallum.
Ulanda, a human.
'Ugh, why are only girls joining? How can a familia only have four boys?' Draco grumbled internally, a touch of exasperation mixed with amusement.
His familia was becoming even more lopsided in its gender ratio.
While he valued every member, he couldn't help but desire a more balanced, diverse fighting force.
But what could he do?
Recruiting was often a matter of who sought them out, and who fit their particular ethos.
Done with reading the extensive logs, Draco twisted his chair away from his desk.
Gazing out the window, he observed the bustling streets of Orario below, the vibrant life a stark contrast to the grim tales he had just absorbed.
Adventurers hurried by, merchants haggled, and children laughed, oblivious to the dangers lurking beneath their city, or the silent battles waged by those who protected them.
His mind, however, was still back in the deep floors, reconstructing instances of the worst-case scenario he had just read about: his familia members, battered and bleeding, fighting for their lives against difficult odds.
'They really endured a lot,' Draco thought, the phrase echoing with a new, deep reverence.
The sacrifices, the emotional toll, the near-death experiences…..it all weighed heavily on him.
However, he quickly slapped his cheeks, a sharp, stinging retort to his own burgeoning weakness.
He straightened his posture, allowing the pain to ground him, to shake off these debilitating thoughts.
Everyone had endured, had survived, through the five long years of his absence.
They had proven their strength, their resilience, their zeal.
He couldn't afford to show a pathetic side to them, to both the old members who had suffered through his absence and the new ones who had joined in his stead.
His role was to be their pillar, their shield, their driving force.
Turning back to his desk, his gaze now steely with renewed purpose, Draco moved on to his next task.
It was time to review the status sheets of the other members.
He needed to understand their growth, their development, their current capabilities.
He needed to be fully prepared, fully informed, for the future challenges that awaited the Bahamut Familia.
And for the intimate moments that hopefully, awaited him at tonight.
A/N: And with that, Draco is mostly caught up with the present.
Left some events vague, so feel free to use your imagination.
Anyway still working on the status sheets, but hear me out.
There is little to no info on some of the new characters, also felt it would be weird if no new members joined the Bahamut familia in five years.
Also I am kind of stuck in thinking about development abilities and skills I should give all these characters.
The status sheet is so long, I can barely even keep track.
In addition to all that, I have to reread past chapters to remember what's going on cause I procrastinated making a status sheet for over a hundred chapters .