"Albion the Dragon, may I?"
Even now, Albion the Dragon still couldn't understand—
This reckless, frail human life-form standing before her…
By appearance alone, he was no different from the countless weak creatures she had encountered before.
And yet… why?
There was no logical reason to feel flustered.
No confusion clouding her mind.
And yet, in that moment—because of this so-called invitation from the weak—
She found herself utterly at a loss.
"...I am the strongest."
The words slipped from Albion the Dragon's mouth without warning.
"Precisely because I am the strongest dragon, it's only natural for creatures to worship me.
It's also perfectly reasonable for them to fear me—because I can tear them apart at will…
I understand your intentions, but those roundabout, sentimental phrases aren't to my liking.
To put it plainly… if you anger me, I'll rip your body apart without hesitation."
Faced with this blunt rejection, Novia showed little disappointment.
After all, he could see straight through the dragon's pride.
Accepting his proposal would mean lowering herself from her pedestal as the strongest dragon.
Her pride dictated that the strong should remain lofty, untouchable by the weak.
That belief was all that stood in the way.
Fortunately, this was no longer the Age of Gods when her kin still walked the earth—
This was the era after she had known true loneliness.
In other words…
Her emotional defenses were fragile.
If he simply persisted…
Perhaps, in time, they would crumble.
"I merely spoke words that have long been buried in my heart. I apologize."
Novia did not withdraw his hand.
He simply kept smiling gently.
"As the strongest dragon, your pride is only natural. I've always believed that.
Which is why… my words were never meant to bind you."
And then—
A contract appeared in the silver-haired boy's hand, as if conjured from thin air.
Of course, Albion the Dragon recognized it instantly.
A standard magus contract—a ritualistic document used when humans wished to form pacts with their own kind or other beings.
Its primary function was to ensure both parties honored their agreements.
It was, by far, the most commonly used magical artifact for such negotiations.
But for the strongest, such trivial formalities were utterly unnecessary.
"My friend, thinking only of my well-being, embedded this within your body during the forging process.
Please forgive Shiali's… initiative."
Novia winked toward the purple-haired girl beside him.
Shiali's expression stiffened.
There was definitely no such step in the forging process.
Who the hell embeds a contract in a weapon during crafting?!
But under that gaze, the violet-haired girl still hurriedly nodded, flustered.
"Ah… y-yes, terribly sorry… please forgive me…"
"To me… you are as noble and irreplaceable as the starlight that illuminates this world."
Novia tore the contract to shreds in one swift motion.
"You, Albion, are my only guiding star.
Your permission means the world to me.
Losing you… would be an unbearable tragedy."
...Does this human… truly revere me that much?
Albion the Dragon gazed into Novia's gentle smile,
Feeling troubled under the weight of his unwavering sincerity.
There was no deception here.
His feelings… were genuine.
"You…"
She wanted to speak, but the words faltered as she met his eyes.
For Albion, a contract was meaningless.
The strong did as they pleased—whether they consented or not changed nothing.
And yet—
This human's seemingly pointless actions…
His words…
For the first time, they stirred something within the deepest recesses of her chest.
Excitement? No…
Joy? Still not right…
How to describe this sharp, vivid sensation?
Surprise?
No.
Moved?
Not quite.
Happiness?
Definitely not that.
But try as she might, she could not suppress the inexplicable, awkward warmth blooming within her chest.
"May I… once again ask, Albion the Dragon—
Allow me, as one of the weak…
To lose my way beside you.
To ponder beside you.
To struggle beside you.
To hesitate beside you."
A frail human body…
An immature magus far beneath the gods…
Daring to gaze upon the strongest dragon,
Blissfully unaware of how foolishly overconfident he was.
And yet… and yet… and yet…
No matter how weak he was—
This human's words.
His eyes.
Every word, every glance…
Albion the Dragon accepted them.
Truly, deeply.
Though it sounded like naïve nonsense—
His sincerity reached the deepest corners of her heart.
"Hmph… looks like fortune's on your side today.
I am the strongest, after all."
"You're right…
You are, without question, the strongest."
The spear's haft pressed firmly into Novia's palm.
As they gripped each other, the boy's hand traced along the weapon's entire form.
The silver-haired youth smiled softly.
"Then… the contract is sealed."
Delicate.
Warm.
She had been held by this hand from the very beginning—
Yet now, for the first time, she truly felt his grasp.
Perhaps it was simply the cold nature of being a weapon…
But even her soul…
Felt that same warmth.
Still, Albion the Dragon straightened with renewed pride.
"Let me make one thing clear—lest you misunderstand.
I did this by my own will, through my own judgment.
Not because a weak human like you sweet-talked me.
To me, you're just one of countless weaklings I could've stumbled across.
You are easily replaceable."
In her mind, that was the simplest, most direct answer.
To obtain the allegiance of the strongest dragon,
Any weak human should be groveling in gratitude.
And yet…
For the briefest moment…
Albion the Dragon caught a flash of sorrow on the human's face.
"…Yes. You're right."
"Hmph. Just don't get too full of yourself."
Though that fleeting sadness stirred something indescribable within her—
The natural order remained unchanged.
The weak…
Must obey the strong.
Such was the unshakable belief of the strongest dragon,
Albion,
In all her boundless pride.
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