Mikhail flung open the coffin lid in one swift motion and stared silently at what lay inside. Adrian could clearly see the tension slowly building in Mikhail’s fingers as they gripped the edge of the coffin. The shock was undeniable.
This wasn’t how it was supposed to go.
Adrian gazed at Mikhail’s back for a moment, then let out a resigned sigh and moved. Jumping lightly down from the wagon, his firm, deliberate steps filled the space between them as he approached.
“……”
But Mikhail, still peering into the coffin, said nothing. He simply bit down hard on his lower lip.
Inside lay a corpse with golden blond hair, identical to Adrian’s. After months, the body had decayed beyond recognition, so grotesquely that it was difficult to look at. The stench hit as soon as the lid opened, but Mikhail didn’t flinch. Eyes fixed on the corpse, he muttered quietly.
“…I really thought it would be empty.”
Mikhail had always believed that if he ever found Adrian’s corpse, he’d break down crying. There were plenty of reasons to weep—whether it was the overwhelming emotion of finally finding the body, sorrow, or perhaps both But now, staring down at the corpse, the only emotion blazing in Mikhail’s eyes was rage.
“Of course. Creating a fake corpse must’ve been nothing for a noble Dragon.”
Because what lay before him wasn’t the real corpse of Adrian Heather.
There was no reason to be moved, no need to grieve. Instead, he found himself able to step back and observe the situation with cold objectivity.
Adrian had tried to deceive him until the very end. He’d had countless chances to explain, and yet not once had he tried.
At Mikhail’s bitter remark, Adrian scratched the back of his head. Since it had come to this, he figured he might as well come clean. Just as he opened his mouth to explain that he’d planted a mandrake in his lair—
“This is—”
“No. I don’t need an explanation.”
But Mikhail cut him off immediately. With a sharp thud, he shut the coffin lid and straightened up. His refusal was resolute.
“Why?”
You’re not even curious now?
Adrian asked, scowling at him. This was the very story Mikhail had spent months chasing—a clue about the missing corpse. For him to suddenly lose interest was baffling.
“Are you really asking? You’re just going to lie your way out of it again.”
With those words, Mikhail whipped his head around in irritation, eyes flashing with cold rebuke.
“If you’re not going to tell the truth, then don’t say anything at all. I don’t want to hear it.”
“…And how do you know what I was going to say? This time, I really was going to tell you everything.”
Suspicious little brat. Adrian scratched his cheek near the corner of his mouth. Hearing that, Mikhail shook his head firmly.
“I don’t believe a damn word you say anymore.”
“…‘Damn word,’ huh?”
Adrian clicked his tongue sharply. Despite knowing he was a Dragon, Mikhail was the first human who had dared speak to him like that.
“Fine. Do as you please. But if you keep this up, you’re the only one who loses.”
“Noted. I’ll treasure that valuable advice.”
…Tch.
Adrian tilted his head, utterly dumbfounded by Mikhail’s reply. His fingers twitched, as if he might drive his claws into the human’s chest at any moment—but he quickly reined it in.
“Confidence is fine and all, but don’t overdo it. You’ve been saved more than once thanks to Ordinas. You don’t want to die just because you said the wrong thing to a Dragon.”
“I’m already more than grateful to the great Ordinas. I know I wouldn’t even be here talking to you if it weren’t for him.”
“……”
Adrian said nothing in response. He simply stared quietly at Mikhail.
What in the world did this boy want? He had insisted—no, demanded—Adrian’s corpse, and now he didn’t want it anymore? If he was going to reject it this easily, he shouldn’t have wished for it in the first place.
In the end, one mere human had made a Dragon jump through hoops for nothing.
Fwooo— A soft breeze drifted between them, rustling the leaves with a gentle whisper. It was a refreshing wind, as if trying to dissipate the cold, tense atmosphere.
That delicate breeze brushed against Mikhail’s face, tense and flushed with rage. Only then did he realize that nothing meaningful had come from their earlier exchange. He’d let his temper flare because of the Dragon’s endless lies, letting his true personality slip out.
“…Sorry. I didn’t mean to start a fight the moment we saw each other again.”
Pressing his fingertips against his temple as if he had a headache, Mikhail muttered under his breath.
Adrian shrugged lightly in response. If a foolish human realized their own mistake, then as a Dragon, such a trivial offense was something he could overlook with grace.
“Well, I’ll accept your apology. So?”
So?
Mikhail frowned and sharply raised his head at Adrian’s question, clearly not understanding what he meant. Adrian, ever helpful, spelled it out again, reminding him of the bond currently tying them together.
“What are you going to do about the wish? Mikhail, as things stand, the wish can’t be fulfilled. You’ll need to either revise it or make a new one.”
Even after Adrian’s explanation, Mikhail’s expression didn’t improve. He murmured as though still not comprehending.
“…Is that really important right now?”
“Isn’t it?”
Humans might not grasp the weight, but to a Dragon, a Yong-eon contract held tremendous significance.
Mikhail opened his mouth slightly as if to answer but closed it again without a word. Instead, he thought of the Dragon’s golden scale, likely still glimmering inside his pocket.
“Let me remind you of the range of wishes I can grant. If you want to become a Sword Master, I can raise you to that level with a single gesture. If you want this kingdom—or this entire continent—I can grant you that as well. I’m offering this golden opportunity, right here and now, to you, a mere human.”
“If there’s someone you love, I can cast a spell so they’ll live only for you. Want money? The most in the continent? Then I’ll fill this entire room with gold and jewels.”
Back to square one. But this time, there was one difference… they no longer needed to find Adrian Heather’s corpse.
“The scope of the wish remains the same?”
“That’s right.”
Adrian’s golden eyes softened ever so slightly. At that clear response, Mikhail blinked slowly before asking again.
“…So if I wished for you to love me, that’d be allowed?”
“Yes.”
If that’s what your wish is.
Adrian tilted his head slightly and answered without hesitation. He knew plenty of spells that could cause someone to fall in love. Though he’d never used one on himself.
He’d really allow it? Mikhail muttered quietly to himself. The words had left his mind so blank, it felt like his thoughts had ground to a halt.
“Adrian.”
His throat tightened. His jaw, clenched with effort, began to ache. But instead of giving in to the surge of anger, Mikhail chose to ask, honestly and openly.
“I want to know what you really feel. Not just some convenient excuse to get out of this.”
Thump thump— The rapid pounding of Mikhail’s heart was almost audible.
“Not even once—did you ever feel sorry? Not when I made my wish at the capital, not when you came back to this mountain to search for your body? Did you save me or give me that sword just because Ordinas wanted it? Did you ever—even once—think about me before ending things like that? Just tell me the truth. After everything, don’t I deserve at least that much?”
At those words, Adrian lifted his gaze—and immediately met the burning red eyes across from him.
“Don’t I?”
It was a strange sort of wish, once again. Adrian listened to Mikhail’s words in silence before asking quietly in return.
“…Is that your wish?”
Mikhail responded with a sharp, twisted smile.
A wish to make him love me? Mikhail would never say something like that. He wasn’t foolish enough to settle for an illusion when the real thing stood right in front of him. Taking a breath to rein in the storm of his emotions, Mikhail finally answered.
“Yeah.”
Got it.
Adrian nodded and closed his eyes.
Immediately, his golden hair lifted on a warm gust of air, his robes fluttering with the wind. A shimmering, golden haze, like sunlight made solid, wrapped around him and danced across his body. In a sudden flash, his eyes gleamed with the brilliance of twin moons.
Fsshh— The floating golden strands slowly settled, and the Dragon’s gaze turned to Mikhail.
“The terms of the contract have been updated.”
It was a wish he could grant immediately. Adrian had paused, deliberating over how to respond—but now, he whispered,
“You want to know what I truly feel?”
Mikhail nodded, face hard with resolve, fully prepared to endure whatever the Dragon said. Had he ever received such a question before? Perhaps not. But Adrian’s hesitation didn’t last long.
“No.”
Adrian shook his head as he replied. Meeting Mikhail’s gaze head-on, he continued without pause.
“This is my entertainment. And not once have I felt even a shred of remorse about it.”
There was nothing more he wished to add, and nothing he needed to take away. It was Adrian’s unvarnished truth. In answer to that truth, the scale in Mikhail’s pocket flared with a radiant glow. The same brilliant gold as Adrian’s eyes.
See? Sometimes, it’s better not to know the truth at all. Adrian thought to himself.
This cruel dragon omg /lh