Chapter 55: Chapter 55

"One has to be bold to leap when there's a chance. The shy ones often miss great opportunities," Sokram said, his voice calm but laced with a subtle challenge.

As the words left his mouth, Lucy’s eyes widened for a moment.

These were the exact words Lucille had repeated to her many times, and hearing them from Sokram felt like an echo of her mother’s wisdom.

Lucille’s lips curled into a sly smile. "Heh, it seems we are kindred spirits then, young..." She was about to call him a young dragon again, but Sokram raised his hand, cutting her off.

"Lady Lucille, please, call me Sokram," he said, his tone polite but firm. "As I said, I came to make friends. Besides, we might even become family one day."

His hand, resting on Lucy’s waist, began to gently caress her tails, causing her to gasp softly.

Yet, she didn’t protest, her cheeks flushing slightly as she leaned into his touch.

The gesture didn’t escape anyone’s notice, least of all Lucille’s.

Her sharp eyes flicked to her daughter, then back to Sokram.

"I see your words do not betray your intentions," she purred, leaning back slightly in her chair, her heavy bosom threatening to spill over her cleavage.

“But my daughter mentioned you had something to offer. She even told me she offered you the loyalty of the entire Purple Pavilion if your proposal held any truth.”

Sokram raised an eyebrow, turning to Lucy with genuine confusion etched onto his features. “Didn’t she tell you? I already proved to her the veracity of my offer.”

Lucille nodded slowly, her smile softening as she recalled the conversation.

“True, she told me that, and since her oath to me didn’t break, her words were indeed true. But Devotion, in many cases, holds a power that goes beyond Oaths of Loyalty, especially our oaths, as we always take the effects of Devotion into consideration.”

“I see, then…” Sokram replied thoughtfully.

With a gentle pat on Lucy’s bottom, signaling for her to stand up.

She did so, her tails flicking slightly as she moved aside.

Sokram stood as well, raising his left hand. He spoke calmly, “…a small demonstration is in order.”

He paused mid-sentence, his lips curling into a playful grin. “Should I ask for an Oath of Secrecy first?”

“From the three of us?” Lucille asked, unfazed by his request. ᴛʜɪs ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ɪs ᴜᴘᴅᴀᴛᴇ ʙʏ NoveI-Fire.ɴet

While the matter at hand was sensitive, his response surprised her, however.

“No, just from you,” Sokram clarified, his gaze sweeping around the room as he addressed the hidden figures lingering in the shadows.

“As the Mistress of the Purple Pavilion, Ayame, Lucy, and the four of them…” He gestured subtly toward the concealed guards, “…I believe they all have oaths of loyalty sworn to you. So, if any information disclosed in this room leaks, wouldn’t that break those oaths? Spirit Magic is a much more precious subject for the Pavilion than it is to me, no?”

Lucille’s eyes narrowed slightly, realization dawning on her.

This explained why Sokram’s elders remained silent during his negotiations, why the confident smile never faded from his face; he was no ordinary dragon.

He was shrewd, calculating, and far more mature than his years suggested.

Yet, she found herself approving of this side of him.

Her respect for Lucy’s choice grew stronger with each passing moment.

“Delightful, haha,” Lucille chuckled, her sweet voice sending shivers down Sokram’s spine.

Her alluring smile forced him to summon every ounce of self-restraint to keep from acting impulsively.

Standing up gracefully, Lucille cut a small wound on her palm with a dagger and let a single drop of blood fall onto the floor.

“By my blood, power, and heart, I, Lucille, Mistress of the Purple Pavilion, make this oath to you, Sokram, with Nhiria, the Paragons, and the Queen of the Nether as my witnesses, that everything we discuss here today will remain a secret, or may my soul be sucked into the void.”

She settled back into her seat, her three tails swaying seductively, their white tips brushing against the plush carpet.

The soft rustle of fur against fabric was almost hypnotic.

Her piercing gaze never left Sokram's face, and the faint scent of her perfume, a blend of night-blooming flowers and something distinctly feral, wafted toward him, making it harder to focus.

"Perfect," Sokram said, though for a moment, he wasn’t talking about the oath. His gaze lingered on her, captivated by her beauty.

The oath itself had left many loopholes with her choice of words, but he didn’t mind.

Instead, he raised his right and left hands.

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One hand gathered mana, while the other gathered spirit essence.

Then, with his hands facing upward, he brought them together, on top of each other.

The two energies began to fuse, turbulent at first, but soon they stabilized, merging into a single, harmonious force.

"...It’s true!" Ayame blurted out, unable to contain herself.

But Sokram also sensed a shift in one of the shadows hidden in the corner of the room.

One of the hidden guards tried to rush out the door, her movements swift and desperate.

But before she could even reach halfway, Leona moved with lethal precision, her blade slicing through the air with a sharp hiss that seemed to freeze time itself.

The sound was deafening in the otherwise silent room, followed by a sickening thud as the traitorous guard's body fell, split in two halves.

Blood sprayed outward in a wide arc, painting the already crimson carpet in the same shade of red.

The metallic tang of blood filled the air, mingling with the faint scent of sandalwood and jasmine that permeated the room.

The crimson carpet, now marred by the gruesome scene, seemed almost alive under the flickering light of the lamps.

Sokram couldn’t help but notice how the color choice suddenly made sense; it masked the stains flawlessly.

He turned to Lucille with an inquiring look. "It seems you have some rat problems, hm?"

Lucille remained unperturbed, her demeanor as composed as ever.

“Yes, rats are quite the common issue in the slums.” She turned her attention to Leona, licking her lips seductively before flashing a sly smile.

“Thanks for taking care of it, Kitty.”

The relationship between Leona and Lucille was complicated.

They didn’t hate each other and often spoke respectfully about one another.

But whenever they were in the same room, the air grew thick with unspoken tension.

And though neither harbored ill will toward the other, it was easy to see they had history.

But even in his previous timeline, Sokram had refrained from prying into that.

“Hmph! I did it for him!” Leona snapped, her tone sharp but tinged with pride.

She had anticipated that something might happen.

More than a brothel, the Pavilion served as a hub of intelligence, and every girl working there was trained to extract information from the drunken men they entertained.

Sokram understood this well, so the betrayal came as no surprise.

“Shall we discuss terms? Or do you want to take care of the other rat first?” Sokram asked casually, breaking the silence.

For a split second, the room fell utterly still, so quiet that one could hear a pin drop.

But the tranquility lasted only briefly.

Lucille raised one hand, and two of her shadows moved swiftly to block the door.

Simultaneously, Ayame summoned a Chokuto and dashed toward the remaining shadow.

Three swift exchanges followed: “Peng! Peng! Shing!”

In an instant, the second traitor lay decapitated on the floor.

Ayame cleaned her blade nonchalantly on the dead fox’s clothing before returning to her position as if nothing had occurred.

Lucille stood up and walked toward the sofas, her movements fluid and hypnotic.

She glanced at Sokram first, then at the two grandmothers, and finally at Leona before shrugging indifferently. “Well, you know the saying, keep your enemies closer, and all that.”

Turning her attention back to Sokram, she patted the seat beside her. “Come sit with me, Sokram.”

Sokram took another deep breath, struggling to conceal the effect Lucille had on him.

Hannah’s voice whispered worriedly through a sound transmission, “Is the charm still affecting you?”

“No, it’s just puberty, Nana. Don’t worry, haha,” Sokram replied aloud, his teasing tone eliciting a curious smile from Lucille.

She watched the young dragon, who would undoubtedly grow into a remarkable man, with growing interest.

Glancing at her daughter, who gazed at him with an almost entranced expression, Lucille wondered idly whether Lucy minded sharing. But pushed the thought aside with an inward laugh.

She was impressed by Sokram’s composure.

More seasoned warriors had succumbed to her allure, but Sokram, though clearly struggling, remained composed.

Sokram joined hands with Lucy and brought her to sit with them.

As always, he wasn’t afraid of playing with fire.

He sat between the mother and daughter pair, while his grandmothers and master took their seats on the opposite sofa.

"So, tell me," Lucille leaned closer to him, her finger tracing a slow line down his chest, her eyes filled with playful seduction.

"What can I offer to repay you for the Spirit Magic Technique?"

"You," Sokram said, his gaze locking with hers.

He let the word hang in the air for a moment, teasing her, before chuckling at the shocked expressions around him. "I mean, your friendship, Lady Lucille."

“Friendship, hm?” Lucille leaned back, her playful smile fading into a more serious expression.

Her gaze lingered on Sokram, searching for any sign of weakness or hesitation.

Despite the undeniable effect she had on him, it wasn’t achieving the outcome she’d hoped for.

A flicker of frustration crossed her features, quickly masked by her usual poise. "You keep throwing this word around as if it means something. Be more upfront, please."

"But it does mean something," Sokram's tone turned earnest. "For example, if I give you the technique as a favor, would you be able to master it without proper guidance? You can ask Master, she’s using it too."

He pointed at Leona, who nodded in confirmation.

Though she wasn’t using Spirit Magic to cultivate, his guidance had been essential for her to guide her daughters.

"Then again," Sokram continued, "I’m just a young dragon with a lot of potential. What else can I achieve or discover in the future that would be of value to you and the Pavilion? Wouldn’t it be better to have me as a friend instead of making this a simple business transaction? Why limit our exchange to gold coins when trading favors and building a true friendship is much more lasting and beneficial?"

As Sokram spoke, Lucy leaned in, resting her head on his chest and blushing as he continued to caress one of her tails.

Lucille listened intently, her expression thoughtful.

“Well, when you say it like that, you are indeed an asset worth investing in. But friendship is too subjective to be a starting point,” Lucille argued.

Yet, her words brought a satisfied smile to Sokram’s face.

“So, it’s something to build toward, hm? Fair. Then we start with a favor for a favor. Anytime you need me, you call me, and if I ever fail you, you won’t owe me anything.”

Sokram summoned a sealed scroll from his glove and extended it to her. “The question that remains is, how many favors would this be worth to you?”

“Sigh… Negotiating with people like you is always tiring and boring,” Lucille sighed dramatically, attempting to appeal to his sympathy.

“You know how priceless this is to us Ferals, the Nymphics, or even the Brutus. It’s the only way for us to use Magi efficiently.”

"No, it isn’t," Sokram countered, his tone firm.

"There are many ways the Ferals and the Brutus can use Magi efficiently. But we’re not quite there yet. As for the Nymphic races, you are all Drakmahs, descendants of Magnus like us dragons, elementals, and the Mystic Nymphs. You can use Magi as well as we can, but your bloodline has become too diluted for you to do so."

His words surprised everyone in the room.

“But I agree that in your current situation, this technique is priceless. That’s why I’m offering it as a symbol of friendship, between us, the Dracnakrid, the Dracony, and the Andronys, to the Purple Pavilion.”

Sokram paused as if weighing his following words carefully.

“A priceless favor can cost many small favors, or another priceless one. But by continuously favoring each other, we can build a lasting friendship. And believe me…”

He extended his hands toward his grandmothers and Master, “…be it my women, family, or my friends, I’ll always guard them under my wings and benefit them with all I have to offer. All I ask in return is reciprocation and loyalty.”

His words echoed in the minds of Leona, Margiory, and Hannah. ‘My women.’

The thought crossed their minds simultaneously.

‘Is he claiming me as his woman?’

Yet, the idea didn’t bother them at all, not even Leona, who was married.