Beast Gacha System: All Mine-Chapter 12: Coy
"So, our bond counts as an accidental bond, yes?" Cecilia nudged Oathran, her hand still comfortably nestled in his.
Walking the bustling street beside her, Oathran smiled. With his superior transformation magic, he had concealed his injuries and even his majestic horns, allowing him to pass as a strikingly tall, if unusually pale nobleman, and for them to blend in as just another couple.
"Yes," he answered smoothly. "By all definitions, it counts as accidental."
"Hmm," Cecilia hummed, falling into deep speculation. "All I know about bonding is that you find a private place because it’s a vulnerable state for both parties, then you have to match heartbeats and try to feel each other’s essence."
"That is the technical process," Oathran nodded. "But the true catalyst is trust. You must trust me, and I must trust you, for the connection to truly take."
Cecilia frowned, her analytical mind immediately latching onto a loophole. "But... with that logic, even if one person manipulated the other... as long as both felt that trust, even if it was built on a lie, the bond would still form...?"
"You are too clever for your own good," Oathran chuckled. "Yes, Saintess. If I manipulated you and you trusted me, and because I successfully manipulated you, I trusted in my own scheme, the bond could still connect quite perfectly."
Cecilia pinched the side of Oathran’s left thumb. "Why did you immediately cast yourself as the manipulator in that scenario?"
"Do you still not realize how manipulative I am?" Oathran teased.
They walked on for a few steps in silence, Cecilia rendered speechless. Flustered, she threw her face away and wriggled her hand free from his grasp. "Don’t hold the gift I gave you with your armpit. Since I won’t hold your hand, you can hold it properly now."
She sped up her pace, marching ahead of him, which only served to widen Oathran’s infuriatingly handsome smile.
"How thoughtful of you to free up my one intact hand," he called after her, his voice full of mock solemnity. "As expected of Saintess Cecilia."
Him and that tease again!
"I am not easily manipulated!" Cecilia snapped over her shoulder, her cheeks flushed.
"On the contrary, you should be susceptible to it," Oathran countered, shaking his head with an air of noble wisdom. "Otherwise, you would just be an unimpressive, flawless Mary Sue. It is our mistakes and poor judgments that make us interesting. And making those mistakes out of a deliberate, heart-driven blindness is the most profoundly beautiful trait of all."
"Aaaah! Stop it!" Cecilia cried out, covering her ears as if to block out his words. "Y-you’re bullying me with philosophy!"
"BWAHAWHWAHHAHAHHAHAH!"
Oathran’s deep, unrestrained laughter echoed down the street, a sound of pure joy. They immediately turned the heads of a few passerby and made Cecilia’s ears burn even brighter.
They had bought themselves a change of clothes. Oathran, of course, had insisted on paying with a mana-condensed stone, created fresh in that very moment. It was a single stone worth a common person’s three-month salary!
This man...! Instead of using that precious mana to fully heal his outer injuries, he’d decided to splurge on their wardrobe!
"But I have some gold..." Cecilia started to protest.
"Where?" he asked.
When her chest began to glow with that tell-tale divine light, he moved in a flash. He pulled her into a tight embrace, hissing furiously into her ear, "You!"
"How dare you show that sacred sight to common eyes, hmm?" he whispered, his voice full of panic and possessiveness. "Cover yourself, woman!"
This ancient dragon had been trying so hard to act his apparent age, even throwing around words like ’cool’ and ’cringe’... But at his core, he was such an old-school, overprotective gentleman!
He aura-farmed in a strange direction.
Cute.
Well, she should have taken the gold out while they were still alone in the forest. Her mind had been so preoccupied with survival and system mechanics that she’d failed at simple premeditation.
Seeing him so thoroughly enjoying himself and getting away with his teasing, she felt a sudden, powerful urge to get back at him. She abruptly pulled him by his cane into a secluded, narrow alley, then spun to face him.
"Saintess...?" he asked, willingly going along with her.
His confusion turned to pure, frozen shock when he saw her spread her arms wide open.
"You hugged me just now. It felt great," she blinked up at him, her expression kept innocent. "If you truly want to cheer me up, do it again."
Oathran’s eyes narrowed, but he was already caught in her snare.
Hesitantly, he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her in a chaste, gentle hug. It lasted only a second before Cecilia pressed the full length of her body tightly against his. The soft, yielding warmth of her bosom against the hard wall of his chest was a shock to his system, stealing the breath from his lungs.
The faint, clean scent of river water and wild apples that clung to her hair flooded his senses. Her scent...
The man’s face went rigid. His pupils trembled, dilating as every primal instinct roared to the surface. He could feel the frantic, willful beat of her mana where her heart should be, a rhythm that resonated directly with his own soul,.. and a stirring south of his belt.
Down, juniors...
"Saintess..." he whispered, a strained, warning note in his voice.
In the dim, confined space of the alley, the situation had become far too suggestive for comfort.
But then, he saw a suppressed light bloom from the space between their pressed bodies. Something solid began to materialize right in the cradle of their embrace.
Cecilia immediately loosened her hold and—
CLINK! CLI-CLI-CLI-CLINK—
A small cascade of gold coins clattered noisily to the cobblestones at their feet.
"Ehehehe, I got them out," Cecilia giggled, quickly squatting down to cheerfully collect her scattered funds.
Oathran’s body remained as rigid as a statue. He stared down at the kneeling woman before him, meticulously pinching each gold coin off the ground, his mind struggling to catch up.
This woman... she had just... she had just made fun of him!
Vile old man, how dare you get aroused!
She looked up at him, pocketing her gold with a smug little smile. He immediately channeled his mana, a cold wave of energy forcefully suppressing the growing heat between his legs. Seeing his struggle, her smile only grew more mischievous.
"So," she chirped, "Shall we go eat that bone broth soup now?"
"I’m paying," he stated, his voice cold and contained, hiding the fury and frustration simmering just beneath the surface.
Cecilia giggled again, thoroughly enjoying herself. "Okay, you’re paying," she agreed, standing up and brushing off her dress. "And I’ll pay for your orc meat!"
Oathran let out a sharp, dismissive scoff. "Don’t push your luck."
"To have been a fake saintess for seventeen years and survived," she said, walking coyly past him toward the alley’s entrance, "I’d say I’m exceptionally good at pushing my luck, you know?"
Her victory lap was cut short. In a flash, he grabbed her wrist and spun her back, pushing her firmly against the cold stone wall of the alley. Cecilia flinched, her shoulders hiking up toward her ears. She blinked, wide-eyed, at the furious, towering man now caging her in.
"Do you have any idea what a bond does to a beast?" Oathran whispered, the low rumble of his voice vibrating through her.
Cecilia’s eyebrows creased in confusion. Of course she knew. She had been bonded to a beast for seven years. But Arzhen didn’t love her, had never desired her, had never so much as looked at her with a fraction of this intensity.
Oathran didn’t hate her, but he didn’t love her either... so, logically, shouldn’t it be the same...?
"You were covered in his scent yesterday," the man growled directly into her ear, his breath hot. "That nauseatingly thick scent he left on you—" His voice was a raw, animalistic sound. "It makes me go crazy..."
Gritting his jaw, Oathran leaned in, pressing his forehead against hers, pinning her flush to the wall.
"Are you so eager to get covered in mine now?"
