Contrary to what people imagined, the sound of a blade cutting through flesh and bone is silent. What you hear at a butcher's shop is usually the knife hitting the bone or the chopping block.
When done correctly, it shouldn't make much sound at all.
Thankfully, Oathran excelled at butchering animals, thanks to his extensive study of anatomical weaknesses. All those years spent learning to be as efficient as possible in killing had finally borne fruit.
Yes. All of it for this very moment, so he could deliver the best cuts of meat, ready to roast for his beloved.
He had taken the elk's life as quickly as possible, with its eyes closed under his palm and its head resting on his lap. He had whispered his gratitude and prayers for an easeful journey for its soul.
Oathran was a lord, after all. Dragons were no longer the beasts of the past who hoarded wealth and burned cities. No. Dragons had evolved past that.
It was all thanks to the first Dragon Lord, Isaiah, named after the Dragon God of the East. Thanks to him, peace was brought upon the land, and all creatures were finally able to prosper.
After lifting the carcass to float midair with his telekinesis, he carefully drained the blood and began to carve the flesh.
Apparently, humans needed a very different diet from other races. They still needed fruits and grains… but well, he couldn't get grains yet. He had managed to find some wild apples, though. He hoped it would be enough for now.
To cook the meat, he tried to remember the details of how humans tended to do it. Heat it over a fire? For how long? It was embarrassing. Although he himself ate cooked food, he had never learned how to prepare it. Dragons' diet wasn't all that complicated after all.
Well, he would ask someone to teach him later when he returned to his castle. For now, he could use his mana to gauge whether the food was done by sensing if the internal temperature was safe for human consumption.
Good plan. Genius, Oathran. He nodded at himself.
After that…
Yes. Of course.
"Let's help her have her revenge and reclaim her title."
Somehow, that felt simpler than this.
Oathran wrapped up his work, rolled up the elk skin, and contemplated whether to bring the bones along to make a bone broth soup, but ultimately buried them. A man had to know his limits, and bone broth soup felt like a much higher skill level than he currently possessed.
He gathered the spoils of his hunt, letting them float in the air behind him, and started to dash under the eaves of trees back toward the river.
He hadn't been gone a full hour, but he also shouldn't leave a lady alone for too long in the woods, no matter how strong or talented she was. It was his role as a man. As her man. After all, eliminating potential worries was the least he could do to make her feel safe.
But suddenly, a light cut through the forest gloom from the riverside.
"Wha—"
Arriving at the edge of the trees, he saw a blinding radiance enveloping the woman he was bonded to.
Cecilia was kneeling on the ground. From her chest, a blinding light poured forth, and something was breaking through it.
Little by little, a carved, long object emerged from the light, floating in the air before her. Her hands cradled it without touching, her eyes closed in deep concentration. Strands of her long blonde hair floated around her, framing her body like the flares of a sun.
It was an exquisite walking cane.
It was sturdy, tall, and straight. Majestic, yet made of an elegant wood with a deeply organic grain that snaked and interlocked along its entire length.
Just as suddenly, the light dimmed, retracting back into the cane itself, which transformed, somehow becoming more polished and gilded than before.
And then it happened again. Light spread from her a second time, absorbed by the cane, which transformed once more with even sharper details and misty jewels now marbling its surface.
Twice. She had transformed the already exquisite walking cane, twice!
The light started to dim. Oathran thought it was over, but no. Glowing ancient texts snaked out from her very being, floating up to forge themselves into the cane's core. Once… Twice… Thrice—no, four times this time!
What in the divine name was this?
When it was finally over, the cane floated gently down to settle into her waiting hands. It landed with a surprisingly hefty weight, making her eyes snap open as she stumbled forward with a soft, "Oh!"
"Saintess!"
Oathran darted forward, catching her shoulders to steady her. His eyes were wide, bewildered, his voice a rasp.
"What on earth did you just do…?"
Cecilia blinked and looked up at him. Her smile, pure and excited, hit him at the back of his head.
DING!
[Congratulations! Oathran Alicei's Love Points have increased by 10!]
"Ahem, you're back?" Cecilia greeted him, attempting to seem nonchalant that only made him frown deeper.
"You have no heart and are still performing these divine tricks. Can't you just settle down while a man hunts?" Oathran scolded, the concern hidden beneath the gruff tone eliciting a soft giggle from her.
[Congratulations! Oathran Alicei's Love Points have increased by 10!]
"I know you are a diligent saintess, but can't you just be my good girl for one hour?" the man narrowed his eyes, his mangled jaw tense.
His good girl…?
Wah—
Cecilia's face exploded in red.
This man kept saying the most unintentionally outrageous things!
That 'impressive' line… that 'can I hold your hand' line… that 'it's nice to die with you' line… that 'the last thing I want to see is your smile' line!
She had tried so hard to ignore them all, but she couldn't get enough now! Pause! She had enough! Not the opposite! She did not not want it to continue! Pause!
Aaah… now her internal monologue was short-circuiting.
"I am alright, Your Majesty," she said, distractedly shoving the cane toward him to create some distance. He, equally distracted, took it from her hand.
The moment it settled in his grip, the cane felt… perfect. The gilded handle was the exact size for his palm, and the height was ideal for his stature. The man instantly felt the rightness of the hold and raised his eyebrows in shock.
"I'm actually very okay right now. This doesn't deplete my power at all," she assured him, brushing off his concern. "Anyway, happy birthday. This is for you."
Oathran's eyes faltered as he turned back to her, his gaze widening once more. "What?"
Cecilia tilted her head, frowning. "Y-you want me to say it again…?"
…
…
…
"Fine! Happy birthday, Your Majesty! Thanks for bonding with me and saving my life!" she snapped, flustered, not annoyed like how she snapped at him last night.
Oathran's mind went completely blank. A supernova detonated in his hippocampus.
[Congratulations! Oathran Alicei's Love Points have increased by 10!]
[Congratulations! Oathran Alicei's Love Points have increased by 10!]
[Congratulations! Oathran Alicei's Love Points have increased by 10!]
[Congratulations! Oathran Alicei's Love Points have increased by 10!]
[Congratulations! Oathran Alicei's Love Points have increased by 10!]
[Congratulations! Oathran Alicei's Love Points have increased by 10!]
DING!
[Love interest affinity level up!]
[Lv. 1 —> Lv. 2]
[Claim rewards?]
[Yes/No]
What? What? Why did both kinds of points increase at the same time? Was he that happy? But his face was just… frozen.
"Your Majesty…?" Cecilia waved a hand in front of his eyes. "Are you mad…? I know, it was yesterday and I was late, but remember, yesterday we were supposed to die! So of course I got you your gift late!"
Cecilia clicked her tongue, shaking her head. She narrowed her eyes at his silence and sighed. "So ungrateful."
After all the rainbow colors finished flashing behind his eyes, his system finally rebooted enough to catch her words.
Mad?
Late?
Ungrateful?
No. First of all, how did she know yesterday was his birthday? He never told anyone. His mother surely wouldn't have told anyone. It was impossible. He had even forgotten himself. You tend to after 400+ of them. He had never even celebrated them.
Oathran blinked, utterly dazed.
The cane she had materialized from nothing with all that divine light and ancient text… was his birthday present.
"No. Thank you. I forgot yesterday was my birthday. Forgive my confusion," Oathran said, his voice unusually stiff.
Cecilia suddenly snickered. "That makes sense, you've had 430 of them already. You must've gotten bored of it by now."
Oathran narrowed his eyes, looking pointedly at Cecilia's back as she stood up and eagerly approached the spoils he'd brought. "Apples! Ah! Meat! Yum! Eheheheheheheheheheh…" she giggled, "…it's nice to be alive…"
As she admired the marbled fat of the elk meat, her mouth watering, she didn't see the intense look in the man's eyes behind her.
Poor Oathran, she thought. He must've been away from his home for so long he'd forgotten his own birthday. If he was in his domain, of course his servants would celebrate it. It was common for a lord's birthday to be widely known. She'd memorized several beast kings' birthdays for political purposes in the past.
Surely the Dragon Lord's birthday was just common knowledge, right? She made a mental note to read more history books…
So engrossed in the prospect of food was she, that she failed to notice how deep Oathran's gaze upon her had become.
"Saintess Cecilia…" Oathran suddenly began. "Why are they saying you are a fake saintess?"
Cecilia froze.
Ah.
She's dead.