Demonic Dragon: Harem System - Chapter 747
Chapter 747: Waking up
Several hours passed without incident.
Night had settled over the castle like a tranquil cloak, and Scarlet’s room was bathed in a comfortable twilight, illuminated only by the soft glow of enchanted embers and the pale moonlight filtering through the curtains.
The little dragon now lay in the middle of the bed.
Curled between pillows, blankets, and the faint residual warmth of Scarlet’s magic, she slept soundly, her small body rising and falling in a slow, steady rhythm. With each breath, tiny ice crystals formed in the air and vanished before touching the sheet, as if the cold itself knew where to stop.
Strax leaned against the wall, arms crossed, silently observing.
Scarlet, on the other hand, sat on the edge of the bed.
She looked at the dragon with an expression that definitely didn’t match the fiery speech of hours before.
Carefully—feigning disinterest—she extended a finger.
And poked the hatchling’s cheek.
Gently.
The skin was cold… but soft. Closer to polished crystal than raw ice.
The dragon grumbled softly, turned her snout to the side, and made an almost indignant sound before continuing to sleep.
Scarlet blinked.
She poked again.
“…”
She frowned, as if deeply annoyed with herself.
“Hmph.”
Strax raised an eyebrow slightly.
“You’ll end up waking her.”
“I won’t,” Scarlet replied automatically, poking the dragon’s cheek again. “I’m being extremely careful.”
The little one made a soft sound, something between a purr and a crackling of fine ice, and snuggled a little further into the blanket.
Scarlet stopped her finger in mid-air.
She stared at it for a few seconds.
Then she sighed.
A long, resigned sigh.
“…okay,” she said, in a defeated tone. “I admit it.”
Strax tilted his head, curious.
“Admit what?”
Scarlet slowly withdrew her finger, crossed her arms, and looked away, clearly annoyed with herself.
“That she’s… quite pretty.”
Strax smiled.
“I knew it.”
“Don’t get carried away.” She gave him a sideways glance. “That doesn’t erase the fact that she hatched from that strange egg. That thing was awful. It looked like a dimensional trap with a shell.”
Strax chuckled softly.
Scarlet looked back at the dragon, now with less resistance.
“I mean…” she murmured, more quietly. “Look at the size of it. It’s ridiculously small. It looks like someone forgot to finish growing it.”
The hatchling stirred, opened its little mouth for a second, and released a small puff of icy vapor before settling back down.
Scarlet’s eyes widened slightly.
“…she just sighed.”
“Yes,” Strax said calmly. “She does that.”
“Of course she does.” Scarlet ran a hand over her face. “Because dragons now sigh cutely.”
She was silent for a few seconds.
Then, with extreme care, she pulled the blanket up a little higher, covering the dragoness better.
Strax watched the scene without saying anything.
“Don’t get me wrong,” Scarlet said suddenly, without looking at him. “I’m not ‘accepting’ anything. I’m just… making sure she doesn’t freeze or anything.”
“Naturally.”
“And if she wakes up and bites me, it’s your fault.”
“She won’t bite.”
“Every dragon bites.”
Strax smiled once more.
The little dragon let out another soft, almost satisfied sound, and snuggled deeper into the bed.
Scarlet watched for a few moments… and then, almost without realizing it, a small smile escaped her lips.
“…damn.”
The night passed silently.
The enchanted embers dimmed until they became only steady crimson dots, keeping the room warm without excess. Outside, the wind blew low, almost respectfully, as if the entire castle had fallen into repose.
At some point, the conversation ceased.
Scarlet ended up lying on her side, still dressed, one hand resting too close to the little dragon to be a coincidence. Strax stayed awake longer, sitting on the edge of the bed, watching—not out of distrust, but out of old habit. Only when the rhythm of their breathing stabilized did he finally allow himself to lie down as well.
The little dragon lay between them.
Small, hot-cold, wrapped in blankets that were too large. Her body remained motionless, the hibernation still evident—mana circulating slowly, like a lake frozen on the outside, but alive on the inside.
For hours, nothing happened.
The castle slept.
Until Strax woke up. It wasn’t abrupt. It wasn’t a sound.
It was… a feeling.
Something changed.
A minimal alteration in air pressure. A shift in mana so subtle that only someone like him would perceive it. Strax opened his eyes slowly, his body still motionless, instincts awakening before his mind.
The room was dark.
Scarlet slept soundly, her back to him, her face relaxed—rare.
Then he looked to the middle of the bed.
And froze.
The little dragon was awake.
She had moved just enough to lift her head. Her little body was still half-curled under the blanket, but her eyes… her eyes were wide open.
Enormous.
Crystal clear.
Light blue with silvery reflections, like ice under moonlight.
They were fixed on him.
Watching.
Without blinking.
Without fear.
No exaggerated childish curiosity—just absolute, silent attention, too profound for something that had just been born.
Strax didn’t move.
For a long second, neither of them breathed perceptibly.
Then the little dragon tilted her head slightly.
A minimal movement, almost imperceptible.
A soft sound escaped her throat—not a growl, not a chirp.
Something between an icy breath… and recognition.
Strax felt it.
Not like words, but like a light touch on his mana. Not invasive. Not chaotic. Just… present.
She knew who he was.
Or, at least, she knew he mattered.
—…so you woke up,—Strax murmured, very softly, his voice more restrained than in any battle.
The dragon blinked once.
Slowly.
And then she crept a few inches closer to him, still keeping her eyes fixed, as if she didn’t want to miss a single detail of his face.
The cold around her instinctively adjusted, becoming softer.
Safer.
Scarlet shifted slightly beside her, muttering something inaudible…
First, there was only a low murmur, something incomprehensible, followed by a slight frown—as if she were being pulled from a dream she didn’t want to let go of. She turned her face slowly toward the center of the bed.
And opened her eyes.
“…hm…?” she murmured, still groggy.
Her gaze fell first on Strax.
Then… it went down.
And met two enormous, crystalline eyes staring back at her.
The silence that followed lasted exactly three heartbeats.
“…—” Scarlet blinked.
The little dragon blinked back.
“…Strax.” Scarlet’s voice came out low, dangerously calm. “Please tell me this is a dream.”
Before he could answer, the little dragon reacted.
Her tiny body tensed.
The cold around her changed instantly—no longer gentle, but sharp, selective. A low sound escaped her throat. A thin, almost delicate growl… but laden with clear disapproval.
Her eyes didn’t leave Scarlet.
And then, with a dignity utterly disproportionate to her size, the dragon raised her snout.
Arrogant.
Clearly offended by the mere existence of the other there.
“…she just… growled at me?” Scarlet whispered, incredulous.
Strax kept her voice low. “Yes.”
“She has half an hour to live.”
The growl intensified slightly.
The dragon took a hesitant step toward Scarlet… then stopped, as if reconsidering. Her eyes narrowed—if such large eyes could do that—and she let out an icy snort, turning her snout away with utter disdain.
Then she turned sharply.
And went straight for Strax. Not aggressively—possibly.
She climbed onto his chest with surprising coordination, wedged herself between his arm and torso, pressing her entire body against him as if claiming territory.
The cold reorganized itself again.
Now firm.
Protective.
Definitive.
The dragon let out a satisfied sound—short, almost triumphant—and then cast one last glance at Scarlet over her shoulder.
It was a look as clear as broken ice.
He’s mine.
Scarlet sat there, speechless.
“…” she ran a hand slowly over her face. “…I’m being challenged by a baby.”
Strax took a deep breath, feeling the dragon’s light weight settled against him. She adjusted herself a little more, curling her tiny tail as if it had always been a part of him.
“It seems so.”
“She…she literally rejected me” Scarlet pointed, indignant. “She looked at me as if I were an unwanted piece of furniture.”
The dragon responded with a small, icy snap. She didn’t take her eyes off Strax.
Scarlet narrowed her eyes. “Don’t get excited. I was here before.”
The cold rippled slightly.
Strax tried to suppress a smile — he failed.
“Scarlet…”
“No.” She crossed her arms. “Don’t say anything. I refuse to compete with a dragon that fits in a backpack.”
The dragon raised her head slightly, staring at Scarlet again.
She growled.
Softly.
Convinced.
Strax finally ran his hand carefully over the top of her icy head, in a slow, reassuring gesture.
“Enough.” he murmured.
The dragon didn’t retreat immediately… but after a few seconds, she let out a cold sigh and rested her forehead against his chest, clearly satisfied.
Scarlet fell back onto the pillow.
“…great.” he murmured. “Now, besides sharing you with the world, I share you with a possessive ice cub.”
Strax closed his eyes for a moment.
Between them, the dragon settled, victorious, still awake—but calm.
The castle remained silent.