"Hey, Arkai, what's wrong with you, man?"
After the pack crossed the river, they slowed their pace noticeably, parting to let their alpha catch up from the rear.
Three werewolves already at the front shifted into a more humanoid form, their gait changing to a powerful, two-legged leap. One of them snickered, elbowing the black-haired alpha. "Is it because she's pretty? I've never seen a woman that gorgeous before…"
Arkai, the alpha who had just rejoined them, let out a short, weary sigh. "Watch your mouth. He might hear it."
The werewolves around him exchanged confused glances.
"What?"
Arkai quickened his pace, and the others instinctively matched his stride. "Can't you smell the scent of a strong being all over her? Stupid mutts…"
"What? She's bonded to a strong one?" the others muttered, looking at each other in confusion. "How can we not smell it…?"
"Strong beings control their scent better than mutts like you," Arkai scoffed, his voice laced with disdain. "That's why you need to master your physical form. You'll understand one day."
The werewolves fell silent at that. They looked at each other, then at Arkai's broad back as he led the run. "Is he as strong as you, Lord?"
Arkai's face remained unreadable. "I don't know." The simple admission made the werewolves around him go pale. Their alpha was never unsure when gauging an opponent's strength. His usual, arrogant "I'm stronger" was conspicuously absent.
"And because I don't know," he continued, his voice dropping to a low growl, "I think he's much stronger than me. So you motherfuckers better not run off to approach random women without my permission next time."
They had almost died.
The next couple of miles of their journey were traveled in a tense, unfamiliar silence. This was the first time the pack had truly felt they weren't the apex predators in the world. It wasn't that they felt unsafe, they trusted Arkai to protect them, as long as they followed his orders and didn't do anything stupid.
But Arkai himself felt a knot of frustration. He had been too lenient with these boys lately. Just because he had started asking for their opinions to teach them leadership, they had almost approached a seemingly weak, isolated woman just because they smelled something delicious.
Forget whatever she was cooking on that campfire. Even without the powerful, unseen presence he sensed lurking around her, the 'he' he had mentioned, that woman alone could have folded them in half.
These boys hadn't realized it, their senses still too crude, but his own sharp ears had picked up the unnatural stillness in her chest. That human woman didn't have a beating heart.
A cold shiver traced its way up Arkai's spine.
She was strong.
But these pups still had a long, long way to go before they could understand how a woman might be far more dangerous than whatever was protecting her from the shadow.
***
Oathran emerged from the river, using a whisper of magic to dry his torn robes. He blinked at the sight awaiting him. A feast of perfectly cooked meat and roasted apples laid out with care. A wave of embarrassment washed over him.
He felt he was contributing less and less to this… whatever this was between them.
Yes, she might claim his presence had saved her life, but her presence had unequivocally saved him. And while it was true he'd been ready to die last night, it wasn't as if she owed him some immense debt for his momentary resignation.
Not to mention, after all that, she had crafted him a birthday present that radiated a latent power he was only beginning to sense. Sure, he had hunted the food, but in the end, she was the one who had transformed it into this inviting meal.
What use was he?
Even that pack of werewolves that passed earlier had been deterred by Cecilia alone. Oathran had sensed it from the water that the sharp alpha leading them had noticed her missing heartbeat and wisely decided to retreat. Smart move on their part, truly.
Well, it was for the best he hadn't needed to intervene. He'd already spent a not-insignificant amount of time using his Dragon Tongue to… persuade the local fish population to migrate upstream and not return until long after their departure.
It was mercy. He was the Saintess's bonded mate now. He couldn't go around slaughtering creatures and disrupting the local ecosystem over a petty, possessive grudge.
Yet, a lingering sense of inadequacy gnawed at him. He had to buy her that proper bone broth soup in town, or in the name of God he wasn't a man of his word.
"You have done so much for me," he began, settling onto the ground beside her. He noted her proud, satisfied smile. "You do know that part of being a dragon is having a rather towering ego, right? Are you trying to wound my pride, Saintess?"
"Don't misunderstand," Cecilia replied, her eyes sparkling. "I have a hidden motive."
Oathran raised an eyebrow. "Hm. You want something from me."
Cecilia nodded eagerly. "But first, we eat and I tell you all about your birthday present. I've been dying to see your reaction!"
A low chuckle escaped him, and he felt a growing warmth bloom in his chest. So, she had been having fun with her newfound power.
As they ate, Cecilia enthusiastically listed the enchantments she had stacked onto the cane, saving its exclusive, game-breaking ability for last. With the crumbling, juicy steak they shared, the conversation became more and more enjoyable for her.
Oathran, however, was barely able to taste the food, his mind reeling with every new detail she provided.
…A Legendary item. This was mythical—no, this was something beyond a mere mythical artifact!
"And you still claim you are not a Saintess?" Oathran's misty grey eyes fixed on her intensely.
Cecilia met his gaze, "Have you ever heard of a saintess who could do things like this? Forging legendary items from light pulled from her own chest?"
"Then," he countered, "the standard for being crowned a saintess must be woefully outdated and in dire need of an upgrade."
A helpless, flustered giggle escaped her. "You… eheheheh…"
"Don't laugh, my fair lady," he chided softly, "I am being serious."
Amidst her explanation, Cecilia remembered she had just leveled up his love affinity to level two. While she talked, she mentally claimed the reward, another 5000 G materializing in her system account.
In hindsight, although 5000 G sounded like a fortune in real-world currency, it wasn't much within the system's economy. Other than the cane, the candle holder, and the ugly shawl, every other item in the shop cost over 1000 G. And that was before the exorbitant cost of ranking them up to make them actually decent.
The real place to get a truly useful item was the gacha pool itself.
Not that leveling Oathran's love affinity was useless. She had discovered that the higher their affinity, the more bonus resonance they both received from their bond. Oathran, a being already considered the strongest in the world, could grow even stronger through his connection to her. It was a synergistic effect, going hand-in-hand with ranking up their bond itself.
When she had asked the system how to increase love affinity, the explanation made it clear it was a different path from accumulating love points.
[Love Affinity increases the more you interact with your Love Interest. The more he is consciously aware of you, the faster the level increases! But, the higher the level, the more interaction is needed to progress! The more you know each other, the more you like each other, the higher the affinity level rises!]
So, Love Points were a measure of emotional impact, spikes of feeling, whether joy, anger, or amusement. Love Affinity, however, was the bedrock. It was the quiet, steady growth of understanding and mutual familiarity.
"Now, I'm at lv. 2 Love Affinity with him," she whispered inside her mind. "It's kinda embarrassing to think of it out loud like that… How about the Love Points? How many do I have now?"
[You have 276 of Oathran Alicei's Love Points!]
Ohh… so that was around 50+ rolls' worth? Not bad.
Cecilia knew the more this man grew accustomed to her, the harder it would be to earn those points. To affect him emotionally, would she need to become increasingly unpredictable? The thought felt… toxic. Manipulative.
Not to mention, she still had a conscience. The moment she got her real heart back, she would offer him a choice. To sever the bond or not. It had happened somewhat accidentally, after all…
Oathran deserved the freedom to walk away.
He was a Dragon Lord, and she was an ex-saintess with a path of her own to walk. And he… seeing the way he had been battered and nearly killed despite his immense power, he was clearly shouldering a burden she couldn't yet fathom.
The least she could do was offer him peace of mind.
By ensuring she would never become another one of his burdens.