It had been a week since the Fifth True Dragon was born.
Somehow, against his better judgment, Dino had agreed to "adopt" her. Or maybe it wasn't so much a decision as it was Senric nagging him until he stopped resisting. Either way, the girl now followed him everywhere, expression blank but steps light—like a shadow that refused to leave.
During that week, Dino discovered two troubling things.
First: Senric had accidentally dumped fragments of knowledge about True Dragons into her mind. When Dino confronted him about it, the Manas had the audacity to apologize cheerfully.
(My bad. I might've uploaded the wrong file. Happens sometimes.)
"Wrong file? She's not a library, Senric!" Dino groaned, clutching his head.
Second: Ophis, as the Fifth True Dragon, embodied Infinity itself. Which, in practical terms, meant an endless supply of magicules. The thought alone gave Dino migraines—if migraines weren't nullified by his resistances.
"So you do it like this," Dino instructed lazily, raising his hand and shaping a neat orb of holy magic. He was trying—keyword: trying—to teach Ophis some basic control.
The little girl tilted her head. "...Like this?"
She mimicked him, but instead of a neat sphere, the air warped as infinite mana surged outward. The cavern shook, the pond boiled, and the sky outside dimmed under the oppressive pressure.
"Oi oi oi—!" Dino yelped, throwing up multiple barriers to keep the forest from evaporating. He groaned as his energy drained faster than he liked. "Too much! You're going to reset the continent at this rate!"
Ophis blinked, then pulled her magic back in an instant. "...Weak," she murmured.
Dino twitched. "What was that?"
Senric, ever the opportunist, was already humming with interest. (Fascinating. Between your aura and hers, there's a resonance… Yes, if I just tweak this—)
"Oi. Senric. Don't you dare—"
Too late. Dino felt something latch onto his core, a new thread of power intertwining with his own.
(There. Connection established. Now you're sharing mana directly with her. Congratulations, you're practically her life partner now.)
"What the hell did you just do!?" Dino snapped, his eyes wide.
(Relax. It's efficient. She has infinite mana, you're lazy, it balances out. Symbiosis! Besides, you'll thank me when you realize you're getting stronger just by standing next to her.)
"…That doesn't make it less suspicious."
Still, Dino couldn't deny it. Just standing there, he felt… full. His body, usually sluggish from his Sloth attribute, thrummed with vitality. He didn't even want to sleep. Well… not as much.
He glanced at Ophis. The girl was watching him without blinking, her face as unreadable as ever. Then, suddenly, she moved closer, tugging lightly at his sleeve.
"...Warm," she whispered.
Dino froze. "W-what's that supposed to mean?"
(Pfft—she likes you. She sees you as her anchor. How cute.)
"Shut it, Senric!" Dino hissed. But he didn't push Ophis away. Instead, he sighed and flopped back onto the cave floor. "…Fine. Stay close. Just don't blow up the forest again."
Ophis nodded once and sat down beside him. A second later, she copied his posture exactly—hands behind her head, eyes half-lidded—as though mimicking even his laziness.
Dino groaned. "First a nagging voice, now a dragon copycat… my life's over."
(On the bright side, you're now technically stronger than most Demon Lords. You've got a personal infinite mana battery. Theoretically, you could—)
"Stop. Don't say it. I don't want to know." Dino closed his eyes firmly. "Wake me up when the world ends."
"...Sleep," Ophis said softly, curling beside him like a cat.
"…Exactly," Dino muttered, drifting off despite the absurdity of his situation.
Later, when he woke, Ophis was poking his face.
"…Hungry."
Dino sighed. "Figures. Alright, wait here." He left the cave, snatched a few fruits from the forest, and tossed one to her.
She just stared. Then, instead of biting, she crushed it in her palm until it dissolved into magicules, which she inhaled silently.
"…That's not how you eat," Dino deadpanned.
Ophis tilted her head. "...Tasty."
(She doesn't actually need food. But she can turn matter into mana. Efficient, really.)
"You're ruining the point," Dino muttered. He bit into a fruit himself. "See? Like this."
Ophis blinked, then copied him. Bite, chew, swallow.
"…Good?" she asked quietly.
Dino blinked—then gave her a thumbs-up. "Yeah. That's more like it."
By nightfall, Dino realized Ophis had developed a new habit: mimicking everything he did.
If he yawned, she yawned. If he scratched his head, she scratched hers. If he muttered an insult at Senric, she parroted it back word for word.
When he finally dozed off, Ophis curled up right beside him, copying his exact posture—hands behind her head, leg dangling, even the same snore.
Dino cracked an eye open, groaned, and pulled his cloak over his face. "…Hopeless."
"...Hopeless," Ophis murmured in her sleep, perfectly imitating his tone.
(Congratulations. You've officially become a role model.)
"…I hate my life."
The next morning, Dino decided to at least teach her proper speech.
"Repeat after me," he said, pointing to himself. "Dino."
"…Dino," Ophis echoed.
"Good. Now, him." He jabbed a thumb at his head. "Senric."
Ophis stared blankly, then spoke: "…Useless Voice."
Dino choked, wheezing with laughter.
(…What did she just call me!?)
"Perfect," Dino said between laughs. "Keep that one. That's his real name now."
"…Useless Voice," Ophis repeated firmly, expressionless as always.
(I hate both of you.)
Dino smirked, lying back down on the cave floor. "Finally, something we can agree on."