Xiao Kun disliked fighting—and slaughter even less. Though born a dragon with an innate bloodthirst, he was an outlier among his kind: a thoroughgoing pacifist.
If he could avoid it, he wouldn’t kill the mercenaries or adventurers who’d sniffed out his and the little princess’s hiding place.
But now, he had no choice.
Those hunting them weren’t just heroes answering the king’s quest. Desperate outlaws swarmed too. Wandering bards loved painting dragons as greedy, vicious monsters, claiming their lairs overflowed with treasure. And slaying an evil dragon? That was glory enough to echo across kingdoms.
Countless youths dreamed of beheading the beast, bathing in dragonblood, becoming legendary dragon-slayers.
As for the dragon’s feelings… no one cared. Humans rarely did.
He pondered this, flapped his wings, and soared into the deep sky. Using his aerial advantage, he seized the high ground, lowered his massive head, and scanned the primeval forest below.
The little princess was timid. Left alone too long in the treehouse, she’d grow frightened. He wouldn’t keep her waiting.
He had to end this fast.
…
Wrapped in a blanket the dragon had “bought” from a nearby village, the little princess huddled in a corner, only her head peeking out—like a quail shivering in the cold wind.
Fear and panic gripped her. It felt like being locked back in the tower by her father.
Suffocating loneliness clung to her, chest tight, breath shallow—but trembling, she clutched the blanket tighter and whispered to herself: *Be strong.*
*Xiao Kun is strong. He’ll be fine. Maybe he’s already chased the bad guys away… on his way back.*
In the dark, she bit her lip, glanced toward the hollow, clenched her fists. *Don’t be afraid.*
“Sigh…”
A faint sigh drifted—too soft, too fleeting—melting instantly into the rustle of leaves.
Naturally, she didn’t hear it. Only the familiar *whoosh* of wings.
Wings whipped a gale. The massive dragon landed near-silently, moonlight blocked. He lowered his head, faintly glowing slit pupils fixed on the hollow. Only after confirming she was safe did his tension ease.
“Come out,” he said gently. “It’s over.”
She let out a joyful cry, tossed the blanket aside, scrambled out, and hugged his foreleg. He nuzzled her cheek softly, listening to her worries and hopes.
Then—
“Xiao Kun, you’re hurt?!”
Her expression turned serious. “Lie down.”
He sighed inwardly—*Where did my draconic dignity go?*—but obeyed, curling dog-like on the clearing.
She placed a hand on his belly, focus absolute.
Like an elf blessed by the entire Fairy Tale Kingdom, she could seemingly do anything: grow a near-dead stump into a grand treehouse, heal deep wounds.
Torn flesh knitted. Hidden organ injuries sealed. Even broken bones mended.
But her face paled sharply.
She staggered back, collapsed onto the grass, and offered a weak smile.
“All… all better. Just… a little tired. Let me sleep… okay… Xiao Kun?”
Her words faded. Body too heavy, she sank backward, eyes closing.
Asleep. Exhausted.
He watched her sleeping face a moment. Mustering his last magic, he levitated her onto his back, then trudged wearily into the stone lair.
He curled around her, nestling her against his softest, warmest flank.
Then he recalled—vaguely—humans said something before sleep. Slightly embarrassed, he murmured in human tongue:
“Good night.”
Tail-tip hooked the blanket from the corner, tucking it gently over her.
Only then did he close his eyes, reassured.
…
Dawn broke.
The little princess, lively again, patted his snout to wake him.
Dragons—long-lived, sluggish—had never known being woken. Disoriented, he grumbled and snorted before blinking awake.
Breakfast was ready. Alas, her meal wouldn’t fill a gap between his teeth.
She ate leaning against him. Midway, pitying his gaze, she offered: “Want some?”
He refused sternly. “No. I’ll hunt if hungry.”
Her face fell. She withdrew the bread.
He swallowed hard, feigning indifference, leaned closer, and murmured:
“W-well… if you *insist* on feeding me… I suppose I have no choice, right?”
Jaws parted slightly.
“…Huh?”
Confused but never overthinking, she happily tossed the bread chunk into his mouth.
Tiny to him—but he chewed earnestly, swallowed with care.
He seemed pleased.
She smiled.
After two slices and milk, full, she basked against him in the gentle morning sun.
Drowsy, eyelids heavy—then she roused herself.
“Xiao Kun?”
“Hmm?”
“Why… do so many people want to take me back?”
“…I don’t know.”
“You don’t? But you’re so strong!”
“Mm.”
“Then… if even you don’t know… I’ll never understand. I just felt lonely in that tower. I only wanted to see the world…”
Her expression dimmed. She bit her lip.
“So even a wish like that… can’t be granted?”
…
He stayed silent.
Too much to explain: human prejudice, the witch’s prophecy, the chasm between their kinds.
Even he found it absurd—the “evil dragon” vilified by bards, beside the Fairy Tale Kingdom’s princess?
Evil dragons were meant to be slain. Princesses married princes. Happily ever after.
It had always been so.
Was “always” right? Unease gnawed him. Being with her felt like defying the world. And the world would fight back.
*Am I ready for that?*
He didn’t know.
Two millennia of slumber left him underpowered. Resolve alone meant nothing. Only absolute strength mattered.
He loathed his past laziness. Too late now. They’d take it step by step.
He let out a rare sigh.
*Still… anyone who tries to lock her back in that tower…*
*…must step over my corpse first.*
Then—human voices.
Distant, refined. Not the village’s rustic accent. *Fairy Tale speech.* Noble speech.
Creak of carriages. Tremor of iron-shod hooves. Unified shouts.
An army.
He rose. Slit pupils glinted cold.
Oblivious, she blinked up at him. “What’s wrong, Xiao Kun…?”
“Danger. Go to the treehouse.”
“Okay!” She hurried off, then turned back. “Be careful! I’ll wait… good as gold.”
“Mm.”
He nodded gravely, wings stirring a gale as he took flight.
Outwardly calm—just another hero to face.
But a kilometer away, watching the silent coalition, the trailing heroes, the golden-haired youth guarded at the center…
A bitter smile touched his lips.
*Ah.*
*Sorry, little princess. I might truly let you down this time.*
*After all… this one…*
*…is the prince from the prophecy.*
[To be continued]
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