Xia Lun had always been quite fond of children.
The charm of a male incubus wasn’t limited to the opposite sex—children, too, found Xia Lun exceptionally approachable.
"Is that so? You’re the village chief? How impressive." Xia Lun crouched down, smiling as he patted Ninika’s head.
"You insolent fool! What do you think you’re doing?!" Ninika immediately swatted his hand away. "How dare you touch my head like that? I’m not a child, I’ll have you know—I’m already three hundred years old!"
"That’s fine. I’m over a thousand years old," Xia Lun replied, still grinning as he remained crouched in front of her. "Compared to me, you’re still just a little kid."
"Hmph, who are you trying to fool? You’re just a human—there’s no way you could’ve lived for over a thousand years!" Ninika glared at him, unconvinced. "I’m warning you, if you keep touching my head, I won’t go easy on you!"
Xia Lun only ruffled her hair even faster, as if determined to rub her scalp raw.
"You asked for this! Don’t blame me for what happens next!"
Ninika didn’t hold back. She reached up and clamped both hands around Xia Lun’s wrist, the one currently wreaking havoc on her head.
And then… nothing happened.
A flicker of surprise crossed Xia Lun’s face. Ninika’s strength was astonishing—so much so that he briefly wondered if the little girl before him was some kind of powerful monster.
But against Xia Lun, it still wasn’t enough.
Ninika froze in place, clearly not expecting her prideful strength to have zero effect.
She had intended to fling Xia Lun like a sack and slam him into the ground… yet the force she exerted on him seemed to vanish without a trace, as if swallowed by an abyss.
"Eh?" Ninika blinked.
"What’s wrong?" Xia Lun asked with feigned concern.
Nearby, Aina watched with amusement as Xia Lun teased the little girl. She wasn’t the type to feel jealous over someone so young.
Ninika, still refusing to accept defeat, poured all her strength into trying to topple Xia Lun. But he stood as immovable as a towering mountain, completely unshaken.
And his hand was still ruffling her hair.
"Uh—"
Ninika finally released his wrist, her expression turning aggrieved. "Who are you? What do you want from me?"
She had finally recognized the gap in their power. This man was someone she couldn’t afford to provoke.
In his presence, she truly felt as helpless as a child.
She had been muttering earlier about why the village had even let this guy in… Now, she realized it might not have been their choice at all.
"I’m quite interested in your village. Why are all of you so strong?"
Xia Lun finally stopped patting Ninika’s head and got to the point.
"Because we’re not ordinary people…" Ninika replied quietly, carefully studying Xia Lun’s expression.
"Oh." His face remained calm.
That made sense. No normal little girl could live for three hundred years like Ninika.
"We… carry the bloodline of the dragonkin," Ninika admitted. As the village chief, she was the strongest among them. If even she couldn’t handle Xia Lun, then the fate of the entire village now rested in his hands.
"Dragonkin?"
So that explained the cold, slippery texture of the two farmers he had met earlier—undeveloped dragon scales on their skin?
Was this an entire village of dragon-blooded humans?
Xia Lun pondered this. Outside, mixed-blood dragonkin weren’t unheard of, but they weren’t nearly as exaggerated as this.
"But… we’re not ordinary dragonkin. If we were, we could survive out there just fine. There’d be no need to hide in a place like this." Ninika sighed in resignation. "The dragon blood in our veins… comes from the Chaos Dragon Clan."
Xia Lun instinctively glanced at Aina.
Aina wore a perfectly timed expression of surprise and realization—though Xia Lun couldn’t tell if she was just acting for his benefit.
The Chaos Dragon Clan… Aina had once told him that Mida was the last of their kind, and that Aina herself had modified her body using their flesh.
The five-colored dragonkin that existed in the world today were manifestations of the Chaos Dragon Clan’s power… and through breeding and hybridization, they had given rise to all sorts of bizarre dragon-blooded creatures, including earth dragons.
"The Chaos Dragon Clan is already extinct," Aina interjected. "Because of the Curse of Fictitious Truth."
"Ah, yes, you’re right. Who are you? How do you know such secrets?" Ninika stared at Aina in astonishment. "An outer-god cursed the Chaos Dragon Clan. Every last one of them met unnatural ends, erased from existence by the power of fiction."
Of course Aina knew. After all, she had been the one to personally drive Fictitious Truth away—and even took a piece of it with her.
For some reason, Xia Lun felt a weight lift from his chest.
So, the extinction of the Chaos Dragon Clan wasn’t Aina’s doing.
Honestly, he had already imagined a dramatic backstory where Aina annihilated the Chaos Dragon Clan, then adopted the sole survivor, Mida… leading to a bitter tale of vengeance.
If Mida ever sought revenge, and Aina retaliated… could he really stand by and watch such a cliché tragedy unfold?
He didn’t dare ask outright, afraid that the tyrannical Demon King might take offense and drain him dry for days on end.
After all, Aina was practically invincible now. If she ever lost her temper and disregarded his feelings, he’d be utterly at her mercy—sealed on the bed like a plaything, powerless to resist.
"Xia Lun, what are you thinking about?" Aina’s voice snapped him back to reality.
"Nothing." He coughed lightly, his cheeks faintly flushed.
Turning back to Ninika, Xia Lun pressed on. "Ninika, what about your village, then?"
"We carry the blood of the Chaos Dragon Clan, so naturally, we’re also affected by that outer-god’s curse… But because our bloodline is so diluted—we don’t even have the signature dragon tails or wings of dragonkin—the curse isn’t as severe as what the Chaos Dragon Clan faced." Ninika’s expression darkened. "But we’re nowhere near as strong as they were."
"At regular intervals, our very existence fades away. When that happens, we need someone who can perceive us to restore our presence."
Xia Lun frowned.
Ninika shrugged. "In other words, if we don’t know anyone outside our own kind, then the next time the curse strikes, we’ll all be wiped from the world—no traces left behind, not even a corpse."