Show Me Your Stats!-Chapter 140

"But do we really need to date?"

Ayra, quietly slipping her tattered shoe behind the other, asked calmly.

"You said mates and lifebonds are different. Doesn’t that mean, in other words, that we don’t have to be lovers?"

Only now did Ayra realize why Janus had corrected her when she called herself his lifebond, insisting she was just a mate. Just as dragons were an uncontestable disaster to humans, a mate must be something like an unrefusable business partner to a dragon. Suddenly, she recalled something Janus had once said:

"Lifebond, huh? Now that you mention it, humans did call them that."

"There’s no standard. It’s decided at birth. No matter how much you hate it, you can’t avoid it or change it. Yeah—it’s not anything as romantic as a 'lifebond'."

All the old texts described the dragon and their mate as lovers—though perhaps the reality was something quite different. Ayra had to suppress the strong urge to demand more information from Janus on the true nature of mates. Now wasn’t the time for idle curiosity.

"Why don’t we just be friends? I’m fine with that."

Speaking in a deliberately innocent [N O V E L I G H T] tone, Ayra slipped her hidden foot forward again. Her ruined shoe and sock had fallen off at some point, leaving only her bare, pale foot exposed. Janus stared as that soft, white foot—untouched by calluses—crept up and rested atop his thigh, where he still knelt.

Beneath her sole, she could feel the thick, powerful muscle of his thigh tensing, twitching like that of a beast.

"Friends for life, then."

His crimson eyes slid slowly, tracking her foot as it glided inward along his thigh.

"A strong, dependable friend who’ll celebrate at my wedding?"

At those words, the eyes that had been hungrily devouring her foot suddenly snapped upward. Ayra smiled sweetly. Seeing Janus’s expression turn sharply cold and hostile in an instant, she went in for the final jab. Her cool gray-blue eyes sparkled.

"How about a dear enough friend to be the godfather of my child when I have one?"

For a scholar, precise definitions were important. That was why Ayra often pondered the exact meanings of stats like stamina, strength, and intelligence when looking at the status window.

But the one he found most intriguing was Favorability.

Favorability—affection, the feeling of liking someone.

Hera’s Favorability was 35. Jinas’s was 62. Bloom’s stood at 79, and Botello’s was even higher—85. Yet Ayra didn’t think any of them loved him.

While completing Pebble’s quests, Ayra had studied a broad spectrum of human Favorability types: parental love, sibling bonds, romantic passion, friendship, loyalty between lord and retainer, admiration. Favorability encompassed all these variations of affection. And what Ayra wanted to know now was:

“What kind of Favorability does Janus feel toward me?”

Affection came in many forms. And looking into Janus’s eyes now, Ayra felt he might just be able to tell what kind of affection it was.

"Like you said, a dragon’s mate can be a lover, or just a friend. Rare cases exist where they become something like a parent or sibling."

Janus spoke lazily, running his fingers over the top of Ayra’s foot as though petting a lamb.

"If you want a lover, go ahead and date someone. If you even want to marry them, I won’t stop you."

That wasn’t the answer Ayra had been expecting, and it left her a little disappointed. But then Janus suddenly yanked her ankle forward.

She toppled to the floor without warning, though the thick carpet kept it from hurting too much. This time, Janus stood towering over her. The sharpness in his eyes made her heart lurch.

"Do what you want. But if you get a lover—don’t give them too much of your heart."

He said it with a face that saw through every one of Ayra’s provocations.

"Whoever it is, your lover won’t live long. Funny, isn’t it? Sometimes humans die just from being too sad..."

It was clearly a threat—yet for some reason, Ayra found herself not upset, but... pleased. She started to say something, then stopped when Janus sighed irritably, ran a hand through his hair, and stood.

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"I’ve been holding back, but I can’t anymore. Stop whining. First time I’ve ever seen a guy cry because someone ignored him."

Only then did Ayra remember Nilma Argan, whose existence had completely slipped her mind. But unlike what Janus said, Argan wasn’t crying because of being ignored. Dragons had poor empathy, but Ayra could hear the deep grief in his muffled sobs.

She stood and walked to the bed. Nilma Argan, curled up in the corner like a corpse, slowly lifted his bloodshot eyes. Pain, sorrow, hatred, despair—all swirled in his gaze. Ayra asked what she had already guessed.

"Lord Argan. Where and how did your father die?"

❄

There were a few reasons Ayra had suspected Nilma Arbalte was dead.

He had returned to Solar, alone and badly wounded, despite having left with dozens of knights and attendants. He had never once asked to go back and rescue his father—before or after saving his own life. And that look in his eyes, burning with grief and vengeance.

At Ayra’s question, Argan began to speak, as if he’d been waiting for someone to ask.

"We... we were ambushed about two hours after leaving the city."

The first attack struck the front of the caravan. A rain of arrows from the cliffs above, then raiders charging out of the bushes. Argan had been riding in the rear, sulking over personal grievances, and that had saved his life. Even then, he’d only survived because his father threw himself in front of an arrow, shielding Argan’s arm and turning a fatal blow into a deep gash in his abdomen.

"Run! Get away! You have to survive, no matter what!"

He had looked back once, hearing his father’s desperate cry. The last thing he saw was his father taking arrows for him, collapsing from his horse, bleeding out as knights around him were cut down in a bloody storm. Argan had ridden in blind terror, not even feeling the pain.

"It was Sobletz... I’m sure of it. They left early, set up the ambush. It’s because of them—because of them my father is...!"

Argan wailed, trembling with anguish, then lost consciousness again. His condition was still critical, so Ayra summoned the physician again to examine him. Meanwhile, Ayra opened her map and scanned the area where the ambush likely took place. Only a few monsters were wandering there—no red dots, no sign of the attackers.

She would have to go check in person. For a moment, she considered taking Hera—but then glanced at Janus. There was no need for Hera. She had something far stronger. And this stronger being wouldn’t let her die.

Ayra proposed they travel together, and Janus readily agreed. They mounted up and rode to the ambush site. After about an hour, something began to shimmer in the distance. As they approached, a sharp, metallic stench of blood cut through the winter air. The corpses—dozens of them—were frozen and covered in snow.

"...Tch."

A slaughter like this would be enough to haunt someone’s dreams for life. But Ayra only clicked her tongue. Janus, of course, didn’t flinch. He simply surveyed the scene with a sharp eye.

Ayra cast a spell, blowing away the snow piled on the corpses. She wouldn’t be able to recover all of them, but at least she could retrieve Nilma Arbalte’s body. As she examined the ones shot with arrows, her expression froze.

"Ayra? What’s wrong?"

"Look at this..."

Most had died from arrows, but some had been cut clean in half—torsos and legs separated. Their eyes were open in shock, as if killed before they even knew it.

It reminded Ayra of another body. His older brother’s corpse—also sliced in half. They’d claimed it was a carriage accident, but the remains had been so mangled the undertaker had spent a whole night sewing him back together.

"Do you know any of them?"

"No... It’s just—someone I knew died like this. My brother."

His voice was cold—frigid. Whenever he thought of his family’s deaths, his rage turned to ice. It would remain frozen there until he had his revenge.

"I see. That’s unfortunate."

The dragon, entirely lacking in empathy, replied casually. Then he bent down to inspect the cleanly severed corpses.

Ayra would’ve once thought they were torn apart. But after watching Janus rip apart three assassins, she knew better. This was clean. The wounds were too precise. Definitely weapon-inflicted. Janus finished his inspection.

"A dull blade, but cut straight through. No way this was done by a normal human."

Which meant someone beyond normal human strength—a knight. Ayra recalled the hungry ambition in the eyes of the lord of Sobletz.

Now I understand why they claimed the Silk Spider Forest was theirs when the boundary stones suddenly shifted.

Bolni was too fortified to make a move there, so they lured the Solar lord outside—engineered a debt, forced him to travel. Then they eliminated both the lord and heir of Bolni. And on top of that, they got the spider-rearing secrets. No wonder they were thrilled.

Ayra’s eyes darkened with fury.