Chapter 119: Arlya’s Treasures

Arlya moved closer to Phield, startling him. After knowing her for so many days, this was the first time she had ever approached him on her own initiative— and she had come this close.

Phield leaned back slightly, eyes wide in disbelief. “What are you doing? Don’t tell me you’re trying to strangle me. That’s illegal, you know.”

“Pfft~ I’m not that bad. Move aside, I need the dragon’s nest.”

“…The dragon’s nest? You mean this log?”

Her inexplicable bout of “chuunibyou” left Phield completely baffled. He immediately shifted half a seat away. Arlya promptly sat down, staring blankly into the campfire while occasionally licking a spoonful of wheat porridge.

The warmth of her waist made Phield feel as if a soft, high-quality cushion was pressed beside him.

Letting his thoughts wander, Phield filled himself another bowl of porridge, gently blowing on it, waiting for it to cool before eating.

Seeing that Arlya still hadn’t spoken, Phield sensed something off about her mood and asked softly.

“What’s wrong with you? You don’t seem in a good mood. If something’s bothering you, just say it. We can figure it out together.”

“I’m fine. Nothing’s wrong.”

She said that, yet continued staring straight at Phield.

Women’s emotions were truly impossible to understand. Feeling awkward under her gaze, Phield turned his eyes back to the fire and cautiously asked, “Is Milani’s death weighing on you?”

“Yes. Even Divine Chosen can die.” Arlya nodded quietly and tossed some firewood into the flames. “I’m not afraid of death. What I’m worried about is failing to complete my mission.”

Honestly, I’m worried about that too.

Phield nodded silently in his heart. Even with a second-tier Divine Chosen, he wouldn’t dare talk about things like “saving the world” or “stopping the apocalypse.” Yet this woman, with her current strength, spent all her thoughts on protecting living beings. It really was an exhausting way to live.

“Don’t say things like that. Please cherish your own life,” Phield said, clearly uncomfortable with her disregard for her own safety.

“Don’t interrupt me… um…” Arlya fidgeted awkwardly, her face turning red. “Come a little closer.”

Phield blinked. “Huh?” He widened his eyes, quickly took a sip of porridge, then smacked his lips thoughtfully. “There’s nothing mixed in here…”

“What mixed in?” Arlya tilted her head in confusion. After taking two deep breaths, she whispered, “Let’s go into the tent. I’ll show you something… ’nice.’ It’s my most precious thing.”

“Holy— something nice? Is it a new game?”

Phield sucked in a sharp breath.

He knew it. The night was dark, the wind high—this woman was about to do something improper to him!

Who would’ve thought? She always looked so cold and arrogant. He hadn’t even touched her head before, and now she was the one getting impatient. Women really were full of contrasts.

Heh heh heh…

After finishing her porridge in one gulp, Arlya waved at Phield and immediately stepped into the tent.

“Ahem. I’m actually a very proper person. Using something like this to test me…”

Phield didn’t even bother finishing his porridge. He hurried into the tent, glanced around outside to make sure no one was spying, then quickly pulled the tent flap shut.

“Why close the flap? It’s so dark.” Arlya lit a candle with magic, looking puzzled.

“You don’t close the door when you do that kind of interesting thing?” Phield frowned. “Though lighting a candle is fine. We might need it.”

“Why would I close it? Normally I just do it out in the open… ah, that’s not the point.” Arlya waved her hand, ignoring Phield’s shocked expression. “Anyway, during the time I’ve spent with you, I’ve felt very… happy. You’re not as bad as I imagined. Though you are a pervert. Why weren’t you wearing clothes last time?!”

“That’s not the point. Compared to doing things out in the open, does that even count as perverted?”

Arlya shot him an annoyed glare. “It is perverted! Unless you can give me a reasonable explanation.”

The explanation was that I played chess with Rosalia, lost fifteen rounds in a row, and ended up losing all my clothes. Totally normal, okay?

“Fine, I’m a pervert,” Phield admitted decisively. “But I’m a principled pervert. And for what it’s worth, maybe in a few thousand years this won’t even be considered perverted.”

Satisfied with the answer, Arlya folded her arms across her chest and nodded. “I’ll be leaving you soon to search for the Dragon’s Ruins. Whether I live or die on this trip is uncertain, so I want to…”

Leave a child behind?

That sentence instinctively popped into Phield’s mind.

“So I want to give you my most precious thing. Ta-da— the friendship of a dragon!”

Like a magician performing a trick, Arlya produced a sheet of parchment.

“???”

Your most precious thing is a piece of paper? Phield nearly had a brain hemorrhage.

He took the parchment. On it were two enormous stick figures and a mess of chaotic lines.

Magic? Runes? Or some strange symbol?

“Look. This is you, and this is me. And here’s your dog-flag and the army of the Nightfall Domain. I drew it back in Mountain Spring Village.” Arlya excitedly pointed out the contents of the parchment, placing particular emphasis on the two stick figures. “I’ve really been very happy during this time.”

…That’s actually a wolf flag, not a dog flag.

Phield held it in for a long moment but ultimately couldn’t bring himself to reveal the cruel truth.

“Hahahaha! Ashina is going to die of anger!” Rosalia laughed so hard inside the greatsword she nearly choked.

“Mm, very nice drawing. It has the style of the great painter Picasso.”

Phield gave a thumbs-up, not knowing whether to laugh or cry. So when she said she liked doing interesting things out in the wilderness… she meant drawing in the wilderness.

Though she had no idea who Picasso was, Arlya still snorted proudly and flipped her hair, pointing at the parchment. “Of course. Look at the details on the flag. I even drew the dog clearly holding a kitchen knife.”

That’s the Black Wolf holding a greatsword!

Rosalia’s laughter abruptly stopped. Her voice turned cold as it echoed in Phield’s mind.

“Dear Phield… would you like to eat roasted dragonkin?”

“I’ll accept your drawing. Thank you very much, Miss Arlya.”

Phield carefully put the parchment away.

“Get some rest, Phield. We’re heading to the Viscount’s territory tomorrow.” After saying that, Arlya extinguished the candle. She lifted the tent flap, paused at the entrance, then turned back with a smile. “Good night, Lord.”

“Mm. Good night.”

Phield waved back.

Nothing else happened that night.

The next day, Regin left a force behind to garrison the fortress and purge the corrupted corpses, while he himself hurriedly led the main army toward the Viscount’s territory.

Phield knew very well—Regin urgently needed achievements to make up for his mistake.

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