“What? You want some too?”

Cang Xiaoxi gave the water bottle a casual shake, noticing Jikuhir’s mouth hanging open, her face twisted into a bitter grimace as if she’d just bitten into something sour.

“Who—who’d want that?! Are you an idiot?!”

The little girl, fuming for reasons unknown, jabbed a finger at him and spat the word without hesitation.

“You really are strange.”

Slightly puzzled, Cang Xiaoxi shrugged carelessly. After another sip, he turned to leave.

But…

“Huh?! Gone! Everything’s gone! Where’s my gear?!”

Jikuhir’s panicked shriek reached his ears. So the little girl had finally realized she’d been robbed.

“Ah! There it is!” Spotting familiar items spilling from Cang Xiaoxi’s pack, Jikuhir snapped, “You little brat—don’t you dare walk away! Give my stuff back!”

Fuming, she charged forward, arms flung wide to block his path. This time, she was genuinely furious. Her tiny hands radiated biting cold, as if ready to tear him apart.

“So you can still cast magic.”

More than her anger, Cang Xiaoxi was intrigued she could summon magic like this—especially with her previously staunched wound now gushing fresh blood. The sight was undeniably gruesome.

“Hah? What nonsense are you spouting? Three seconds to return my things—or else…”

“Or else what?”

Unfazed, Cang Xiaoxi smirked. Right before the utterly bewildered girl’s eyes, he raised three fingers.

“One.”

“Hey, what are you counting?!”

“Two.”

“If you’re counting down to *your* death, I’ll just—”

“Three. Down.”

As the word left his lips, Jikuhir’s legs buckled. She stumbled, then collapsed to the ground with a thud. Sobs erupted into wails.

“It huuurts! So bad! Blood—blood’s flowing!”

Panicked, she tried summoning cold again to staunch the flow.

“Huh?! Why won’t it stop? No—no magic left! Darn it… hurts! Waaah!!!”

She sobbed uncontrollably, every bit the child her size suggested. Cang Xiaoxi blinked—this tearful, flailing figure bore zero resemblance to the fierce Dragon Sovereign from moments ago. A flicker of amusement danced in his eyes. Honestly, she was ridiculous.

“Hey, why crack now? Weren’t you all tough earlier? Took a cannon blast head-on and bounced right back!”

“You—you damn brat! Of course I had to act tough in front of the enemy! Besides… this is my *first time* getting hurt! You… ow!!!”

The exchange died mid-sentence as pain sent her rolling on the dirt. *So the heroine was raised sheltered*, Cang Xiaoxi mused. *No real crises before. No wonder the meltdown makes sense.*

“I see. Just a kid. I’m leaving.”

“Oh, safe travels—WAIT, NO!!! Hey! Stop! How can you just walk away? Where’s your compassion?!”

She froze mid-roll—not from pain, but sheer disbelief at his coldness. This only deepened her grudge. If looks could kill, she’d have bitten him raw.

“So what?” Cang Xiaoxi’s tone stayed flat. “What if I don’t help? Will someone scold me? What’s in it for me? You tried to kill me—why save someone who wants me dead?”

“You—!”

Stunned silent by his cold logic, Jikuhir seethed. *First a cannon blast saving my people… then betrayal by a loyal subordinate… Is this what heroines get?*

“Mmm… please!” she choked out, swallowing pride. “Just… the healing potion! I’ll apologize for earlier—anything!”

Suppressing the urge to throttle him, the Dragon Sovereign—*the highest authority, used to others begging HER*—humbled herself for the first time.

“A healing potion? Hmm… think I’ve got one.”

He rummaged through her looted items. Thanks to the [Dragon’s Eye]’s basic identification, he found it fast.

“Yes! That one! Hurry!”

Hope lit her delicate face. She waved eagerly as he approached. *Hehehe… Once healed, you’ll learn the price of mocking the Dragon Sovereign!* Her smile hid venomous intent. Magic coiled ready in her palms.

But—

“Silly~ Why would I waste this on you? What’s a little girl like you even thinking?”

“Huh?!”

Jikuhir froze. *Did I mishear? Wrong script?!*

Reality hit hard. He merely dangled the vial before her eyes—zero pity, zero mercy.

*This guy… terrifying. Absolutely terrifying.*

“Why won’t you give it?! Shouldn’t you return it?! Even across races—a beauty like me is *begging*! Is your heart iron?! No soft spot at all?! You black-hearted brat!”

“Beauty? Pfft! You? Come back in a few years, *shrimp*.”

He flicked her forehead with a chuckle. Her doll-like features *were* flawless—but with a child’s frame (save for one spot), “cute” fit far better than “beauty.”

“Don’t call me shrimp! I’m 233—I’m an adult! *You’re* the brat who hasn’t grown up!” She swatted his hand away, flustered. *Little girls hate height jokes. Universal law.*

“233… Heh. Truly an ‘another world’ trait.”

“Hah? Another world? What’re you—wait… your hair…”

Jikuhir finally studied him properly: black hair, gray eyes tinged gold—the exact mark of the human race’s summoned [Sage]. *Could this tiny brat be…?* She dismissed it instantly. *Rituals take ten years minimum. Impossible.*

“What’s wrong? Something odd about my hair?” He touched his head, puzzled.

“None of your business where I look!” She pouted, petty spite overriding pain as she stuck her tongue out.

Cang Xiaoxi wasn’t fazed. “Fine. Keep your secrets. And forget the potion.”

“NO! I’ll talk! Anything! Just give it—I’m dying! Waaah!!!”

Real tears streamed down the Dragon Sovereign’s face. First-time pain was unbearable.

“Ugh, fine! Here! Stop wailing! You’re over two hundred—act your age!” He tossed the vial with visible disdain.

“Potion… thank goodness!” She splashed some on her wound, gulped the rest. Moments later, her face cleared.

Cang Xiaoxi felt a flicker of guilt. *Maybe I went too far.* But… teasing little girls was human nature. And after past betrayals, every woman felt like a potential backstabber. Two emotions twisted into near-cruel play.

“Recovered? Then answer my question.” He glanced at the sinking sun, nudging the still-checking Jikuhir.

“I know, I know—patience, human! Ugh…” She grumbled while testing her limbs.

Once sure she’d healed mostly, a sly smile curled her lips.

“Oh, I’ll answer… right after you’re on the ground, begging for mercy!”