Chapter 34: A Spark and a Storm

Adam sent a wave of calming reassurance to Alice. “Easy now. Let me figure this out.”

He then turned his focus to the persistent Sun-Scale Lizard, attempting to project a simple, questioning thought. To his surprise, a faint, new connection snapped into place, far weaker and more simplistic than his bond with Alice, but there nonetheless.

“You… want… what?” Adam projected.

The response that came back was a jumble of primal concepts and emotions, not words, but the meaning was clear. It was an impression of awe, of submission to a superior power, and a simple, instinctual desire. The core concept that emerged was: “Strong. Dragon. Mate.”

Adam recoiled mentally. “Dragon? You think I’m a dragon? And you want to be my… mate? Is this some kind of instinct?”

The lizard, whom he now mentally dubbed ’Sparky’ for lack of a better term, just tilted its head in confusion, emitting a soft, chirping click. The complex questions were beyond its simple understanding.

The basic facts, in its mind, were clear: Adam was strong, he had a draconic presence, and he had defeated it. Therefore, bonding was the natural course of action.

“What are you two talking about?! Tell me!” Alice’s voice was a sharp, jealous prod in his mind. “Why is it just staring at you like that?!”

“You… you can’t hear it?” Adam asked, surprised.

“Hear what? It’s just making stupid noises! Now tell me what’s happening!”

Adam realized the communication was a direct, one-on-one mental link. This complicated things.

He looked at Sparky, who was now cautiously trying to approach again, its fiery aura subdued into a warm, hopeful glow. The lizard was undeniably powerful in its own right, a creature of pure fire that could be a formidable ally.

The logical part of his mind, the part honed by Human Ingenuity, agreed with the law of the wild: a pack was stronger than an individual. More allies meant a better chance of survival against the true horrors of the deep dark.

But then there was Alice. Her mental presence was a brewing storm of betrayal and possessiveness.

Weighing the potential benefits against the immediate domestic turmoil, Adam made a decision. He focused on the lizard.

“Fine. You can follow. But you are not a ’mate’. You are… a follower. A subordinate. Do you understand?”

He projected the concepts of ’following’, ’obedience’, and ’ally’. Sparky chirped excitedly, bobbing its head up and down, clearly understanding the positive reinforcement if not the precise semantics.

“And you need a name,” Adam continued. A name fit for a fiery, if somewhat simple-minded, companion. A name that sounded powerful to appease his own sensibilities. “Your name is Ignis.”

Upon receiving the name, Ignis let out a happy, sizzling chirp and began hopping up and down on its rocky perch, small puffs of smoke and ember rising from its scales.

It was at that moment Alice fully processed what had just happened. The naming. The acceptance. Her eyes widened, her fur bristled, and her tail lashed.

“You… you named it?!” her mental voice was a whisper of sheer, horrified disbelief. Then it rose into a shriek. “WHY IS THE STUPID LIZARD COMING WITH US?!”

“This is also for our own good, Alice,” Adam said in a gentle tone and tried to calm Alice down.

Alice’s mental tirade was a whirlwind of hurt and indignation. “But—! She’s stupid! And smelly! And she tried to hurt me! We don’t need her! It’s always been just us! Why does he have to—!”

“ENOUGH, Alice.”

Adam’s mental voice cut through hers, not with anger, but with a firm, weary finality that he had never used with her before. The force of it made her flinch, her mental presence recoiling in surprise.

“We almost died,” he continued, his tone grave and relentless. “Back there, against the Magma Lord. You were hurt. Badly. I watched you crash into that wall, and I thought I had lost you.” The memory was a fresh wound for both of them. “If we continue like this, just the two of us, we will be overwhelmed. Something bigger, something smarter, will come, and it will eat us. I cannot… I will not let you be hurt again because of my pride or your possessiveness.”

The raw concern in his words, the stark reminder of her own vulnerability and his fear for her, was like a bucket of cold water. Her outrage evaporated, replaced by a dawning, shameful understanding.

She had been thinking only of herself, of her place as his sole companion. She hadn’t considered the sheer, brutal math of survival in the deep dark. Her ego had blinded her to the very real possibility of his or her own death.

There was a long, heavy silence in their bond. Finally, a small, contrite thought emerged from Alice. “…Okay.” It was a whisper, filled with reluctant acceptance. “I understand.”

Adam’s stern demeanor softened instantly. He could feel the hurt and embarrassment swirling within her. He lowered his massive head and gently nudged her with his snout, then coiled the very tip of his powerful tail and stroked her back in a slow, soothing motion.

“It’s alright,” he thought, his voice gentle once more. “You will always be my first and most trusted partner. That will never change.”

Alice leaned into his touch, a soft, grateful purr rumbling in her chest. “I know. I’m sorry.”

It was at this tender moment of reconciliation that a soft, sizzling “Kekekeke…” reached them. Ignis, watching from a few feet away, was visibly trembling with suppressed amusement, finding the scene of Alice being scolded highly entertaining.

Alice’s head snapped up, her amber eyes narrowing into slits. The embarrassment she felt instantly transformed into a fresh, but now coldly controlled, animosity towards the lizard.

She didn’t yell or hiss. She simply locked eyes with Ignis, and a single, crystal-clear thought was meant for Adam alone, but carried a deadly promise.

“I’ll get even with you, you damn lizard.”

Adam sighed internally. Peace, it seemed, would be a long and complicated road.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep