Chapter 9: Attack his weakest point!

“I’ll give you one more chance—if you admit defeat to me now, I’ll still accept your apology.

If you end up hurting yourself, I’ll only look down on you even more.”

Bartke’s poker face remained as indifferent as ever, but inside, he was overjoyed.

He knew the temperament of the Red Dragon. With this provocation, he was certain the other would attack him even more furiously, and in the end, the one who got hurt would still be his opponent.

“Come on, let’s fight. What, are you scared, kid?”

Seeing that Gernasa still hadn’t moved, Bartke couldn’t help but prod him again.

But Gernasa didn’t show the slightest sign of anger. Instead, he turned his head to look at Goli.

He wasn’t looking for help—rather, he pulled a comical face at her, raising his brow.

Goli, quick on the uptake, seemed to guess what he was up to, but she didn’t know exactly what he had in mind.

“Just do what you want. If anything goes wrong, I’ll take responsibility as your master.”

“Alright then.”

He kept up that silly expression and turned back to Bartke, making Bartke speechless.

What kind of face was this brat making?

“Don’t pull that disgusting face at me. Hurry up and fight.”

“Ahem, alright, but let’s make it clear first—I’m going to attack your weakest spot. Are you ready?”

“Weakest spot?”

Bartke looked down, then sneered in disdain:

“Even my weakest spot is still more than you can handle. Go ahead, attack wherever you like. Otherwise, it’ll just seem like I’m bullying a kid.”

“Alright then, get ready, I’m about to attack.”

Gernasa took up a fighting stance, crouching low to the ground as if ready to pounce at any moment.

Bartke was delighted inside, eager for him to attack.

And then…

“Master has never liked you. She thinks you’re nothing but an annoying softy who could bore a dragon to death.”

For a moment, Bartke froze, the confident curve of his lips twitching.

He was trying his best to keep a serious face.

But soon—

“You bastard! You’re lying! You’re definitely lying!”

He covered his face and started crying, but immediately realized how humiliating this was in front of Goli.

He quickly wiped away his tears, looked at Goli with a twisted expression, and waited for her answer with pleading eyes, his voice full of desperation.

“He’s lying, isn’t he? He must be lying, right?”

Then, his last bit of hope finally died.

Goli’s face was expressionless:

“He’s absolutely right.”

Bartke.painful_mask.jpg

He burst into tears and ran out the main door, but behind him, a voice full of salvation rang out.

“Wait a second.”

Goli called him back, and Bartke turned hopefully.

Then…

“You haven’t given my disciple your meeting gift yet. Hand it over before you leave.”

Crack—a sound like something breaking inside.

Like a zombie, lifeless, he took something out and handed it to Goli, then burst into tears again and ran out the door.

With a bang, the main door slammed shut. Goli looked down at what was in her hand—a golden fruit.

“Well, I suppose it’s not exactly trash.”

At this moment, Gernasa walked over, still muttering:

“This guy looked all imposing, but who would have thought he was so fragile? Just a couple of words and he’s crying like that—what a disgrace to dragons.”

Goli’s mouth twitched at his words. That was “just a couple of words”?

Thinking of this, she gave him a good thump on the head.

“Enough out of you. You can’t just say things like that. Even I don’t dare say it to his face—if you really set off his temper and he stomps you to death, I wouldn’t be able to stop him.”

Gernasa covered his head, aggrieved.

“You called him a softy yourself! If he’s such a softy, what temper could he possibly have? Also, I never asked you to finish him off like that.”

“Ahem, I’ve rejected him plenty of times already—what’s one more? But you, if he really wanted to kill you, what would you do then?”

“What’s there to be afraid of? His daughter is still here, isn’t she? If things really go bad, I’ll just use her as dragon collateral—hold onto her and see if he dares do anything.”

Gernasa grinned wickedly, and Goli smiled along with him.

“That’s true.”

“Speaking of which, I can’t believe that guy actually has a daughter and still can’t get over you. Never would’ve guessed.”

With Goli’s personality, it was obvious she wasn’t the marrying type.

Bartke just said he was a prince of the Golden Dragon Clan—he must have seen all kinds of girls, so why…

“I advise you not to meddle in other people’s business.”

Goli gave a rather awkward but still elegant smile, clearly seeing through what Gernasa was thinking.

That look in his eyes—he was practically saying she was unmarriageable.

“Ahem, uh… Haha, actually, the weather looks pretty good today, doesn’t it? I’ll go get some fresh air. Been alive this long and never left the place.”

Seeing Goli’s child-eating expression, Gernasa hurriedly changed the subject.

He really was curious about the outside of the Crystal Palace. He had been reincarnated for a while but never seen the scenery out there.

“Wait, hold up a second, there’s something I haven’t told you yet. I might forget in a moment.”

Just as he was about to leave, Goli called him back, and he turned to see her making a funny face.

“Master… uh…”

“Hehe, don’t worry, I’m not going to bully you. I just got you a little gift when I was out this time.”

As she spoke, she pulled out a little red… dress.

“See? Isn’t it nice? I bought it just for you.”

“Uh… Master, I’m male.”

“I know. Does that matter?”

“…Good thing I haven’t learned to shapeshift yet, or I’d never escape this.”

“Ahem, so, hurry up and learn shapeshifting, don’t let your master’s good intentions go to waste.”

Gernasa was stunned for a moment, then his face suddenly became serious, eyes full of “wisdom”.

“Oh dear, what’s shapeshifting? Sounds so hard, I’ll never learn it. I’m off to build snowmen outside, see you!”

With that, he darted off. Goli watched his retreating back, hands on her hips, sighing helplessly.

“You kid… Oh, forget it, go play. You can’t run away from me anyway, hehe~”

She opened the door a crack so Gernasa could come and go.

A cold wind blew through the crack, revealing a world of snow and ice outside.

“This crazy woman even has a dress-up fetish. If you want to dress up, do it yourself, why drag me into it?”

Grumbling, he walked out the door.

Right then, the blizzard had finally let up. Stepping outside, all he could see was endless white snow.

A vast snowy plain, and atop a mountain piercing the clouds stood the Crystal Palace.

Outside the main door was a flat, open space, thick with piled-up snow.

With a leap, Gernasa dove into the snow, relishing this long-lost, simple joy.

And then he saw Bartke curled up by the door, utterly dejected.

“Huh? This guy’s still here?”

Bartke was hugging his knees in the corner by the door, letting the stray snowflakes carried by the cold wind drift down on him.

Judging by those empty eyes, he looked alive, but was already dead inside.

“Hmm… Maybe I should go say something, can’t have him dying at the doorstep. That’d be bad luck.”

Stepping onto the snow, he walked toward Bartke, but Bartke no longer responded to his approach.

Lifting his little paw, he poked at him—still no reaction.

“Whoa, that’s one dragon who really can’t take it.”