In those amethyst-like eyes, the bewilderment originally caused by being summoned by a non-human creature—even a Phantasmal Species (a general term for existences that appear in myths/legends and transcend conventional ecology, only in the Type-Moon worldview)—instantly solidified upon hearing that magnetic, low-pitched dragon speech.
Subsequently, it transformed like a wildfire into a kind of almost frantic hope.
For Serenity Hassan, “touch” was a luxury, a curse, and even more so, a missing piece in the meaning of her existence.
And at this moment, the black dragon forged of steel before her not only ignored the poisonous aura she was both proud of and detested, but even took the initiative to issue that invitation which made her soul tremble.
“Tr… try…?”
The girl murmured to herself, her voice carrying a tremble due to extreme excitement.
She looked at the blood-red maw that slowly opened; inside, there was no expected stench, but instead, it was permeated with a unique scent similar to the mix of ozone after a thunderstorm and liquid metal.
A moist, warm, dark red long tongue covered with tiny barbs, like a red carpet extending from the abyss, slowly reached out in front of her.
Compared to the fragile organs of humans, this dragon tongue was huge enough to wrap her entire body up.
The saliva flowing on it shimmered with a viscous luster under the dim light of the cave, emitting a wave of high heat that forced even Olga to retreat half a step, but in Serenity’s eyes, this was the most sacred altar in the world.
This was the most fragile part of the whole body, with the richest mucous membranes.
If even this place did not fear her poison…
Serenity Hassan slowly removed the pale mask on the side of her head that symbolized isolation and death.
On that face, exquisite enough to take one’s breath away, a layer of morbid and intoxicated blush now appeared.
She did not hesitate in the slightest, extending the hands that had never been warmly held by anyone, and gently cradled the dragon tongue that was thicker than her waist.
“Sss—”
The moment they made contact, the deadly poison capable of killing legions surged frantically through her fingertips into the other’s mucous membrane, but apart from triggering a slight sound like water droplets falling into a hot pan, the tongue did not even show signs of swelling, still pulsating powerfully, emitting incredible heat.
It really…
is fine.
“Ah…”
A sigh mixed with crying and moaning spilled from Serenity’s throat. Visit novelping.com for the full chapter.
Like a drowning person who had grasped a straw, she could not help but lean forward.
Her smooth cheek pressed tightly against that slippery, scalding tongue surface, and she even extended her own small tongue, licking the tip of the rough dragon tongue with near-religious devotion.
That was the taste of rust and power.
It was the taste of being accepted.
At this moment, in this dark cave of another world, this Heroic Spirit known as the “Poison Girl” felt unprecedented happiness and…
desire.
Since even the tongue did not fear her toxins, then other parts, or even deeper…
Serenity Hassan’s hands trembled slightly from excessive excitement; she took the initiative to pull that moist and scorching dragon tongue, guiding it toward her abdomen, to that patch of brown skin not covered by the black bodysuit.
The moment the long tongue swept across her lower abdomen, that metallic-textured roughness and the comforting high heat caused her to let out a faint whimper like a kitten.
“Ah… yes, right here… Master.”
She half-closed her purple eyes, letting the broad tongue tip linger on her cheeks and neck.
Due to the massive difference in strength and size, the tongue could almost cover half her body with just a light brush.
When the slightly stinging barbs grazed her sensitive chest, they brought forth waves of tingling electric currents, giving this assassin who had wandered on the edge of death for years the illusion that her soul was being scorched.
Recalling that magnetic and slightly arduous language, when it echoed in the cave, it was like an invisible pair of hands stroking her consciousness.
[Do you want to… try it now… a deeper touch?]
Just recalling this invitation, Serenity’s breathing became rapid, and the blush on her cheeks spread to her chest.
She took the initiative to embrace the massive dragon head that had already dropped to the ground, pressing her body against the cold, hard black crystal scales, while carefully guiding the warm dragon tongue into the soft places between the gaps of the black fabric.
When the long tongue touched the sensitive area connecting her side waist and abdomen, Serenity’s toes curled slightly due to the overwhelming sense of fullness.
That was a pressure that ordinary people could not give; it was not just the relief of her toxin being accepted, but an ultimate sense of belonging, being completely enveloped and devoured by an absolute powerhouse.
“Your temperature… is too warm. Even though this is the source of the deadly poison, it has been touched by you.”
She whispered softly, her purple pupils reflecting Balthazar’s dark red slit pupils; there was no longer the coldness of an assassin, and that originally hollow gaze gradually became hazy and fanatical.
She began to actively lick every texture on the side of the dragon tongue, using a devotion bordering on ritual, attempting to accept all the violence and tenderness contained in this non-human body.
Then, she looked up, her purple eyes reflecting Balthazar’s massive slit pupils, as if that were her only sun.
“Only you… only you…” This chapter is updated first at g.com.
She wrapped her hands around the massive tongue tip, obsessed as if embracing a lover, her voice dreamy and firm.
“Whether it is lips, skin, or any part of the body… everything of Serenity… already belongs to you, Master.”
Balthazar seemed to sense something, and that right front claw, like black armor, stopped abruptly in mid-air.
Above those layered, dark iron scales, harder than obsidian, a strange heat flow was surging; different from the furnace core within his body, this power was purer and more rule-based.
He slowly retracted his right claw, raising it before those huge dark red slit pupils.
Seeing that on the few large main scales in the very center of the back of the claw, bright red magical circuits were frantically etching themselves.
That was not a simple tattoo or mark, but rather like red-hot molten iron poured directly into the crystal structure of the scales; accompanied by a faint “hissing” sound and curling wisps of blue smoke, three bright red Command Spell patterns, composed of complex geometric lines, gradually took shape.
That red light, set against the pitch-black dragon scales, appeared exceptionally eerie and dazzling, like a blood flower blooming on steel.
[Is this the reins?]
Balthazar stared at the red mark that was still pulsating slightly, letting out a mocking low hum from deep in his throat.
His huge nostrils puffed out a stream of white air, blowing the red light on the back of his claw until it flickered on and off.
He could feel the connection between these three red marks and Serenity, who was wholeheartedly intoxicated by Balthazar’s tongue.
This was the embodiment of absolute command authority, the proof of the so-called “Master.”
“Hmph…”
He flicked his claw disdainfully.
For a dragon, this kind of mandatory contract was nothing more than icing on the cake.
He did not need to rely on such things to maintain loyalty; his power itself was the most absolute Command Spell.
[A nice decoration.]
[However, if used as a resource that can immediately enhance combat power and timely adjust strategies, perhaps it might have some use.]
While soothing Serenity, Balthazar reserved a place in his own brain for this mark, to be used for standby.