The heavy doors of the Twilight Tower slowly groaned shut, sealing out the chill of early winter.
“My Lady, are you alright?”
Upon seeing Villanelle return safely, Heinrich wept with joy, his voice trembling with disbelief.
The old steward did not breathe a sigh of relief until he confirmed that not even a corner of her clothing was damaged.
“I’m fine,” Villanelle said in a tone more lighthearted than ever before. She patted Ignis in her arms. “The appraisal at Dragon Cliff was wrong. See? He isn’t irritable at all.”
“That is good to hear.” Heinrich wiped his eyes. This was the best news to echo through the Twilight Tower in years.
After their brief conversation, Villanelle went upstairs to her second-floor bedroom. Using a thick cloak and several blankets, she fashioned a simple nest by the fireplace and carefully tucked Ignis inside.
“From now on, this will be your bed.” Villanelle watched as he padded around the nest before curling into a circle. The corners of her mouth curved upward involuntarily.
However, her smile soon froze.
A thought that had been masked by tension and excitement suddenly struck her.
Since hatching, the little guy seemed… seemed to have eaten nothing at all?
Villanelle felt a sudden pang of guilt, her fingers unconsciously twisting the hem of her clothes. “I haven’t fed you yet, have I…?”
This little fellow really did have a good temperament. He hadn’t even bitten her despite being hungry.
Ignis stared back at her in silence.
‘You’re just now remembering? If I were a normal, factory-standard dragon… forget it, I don’t even have the energy to complain.’
While hunger existed, humming in his abdomen like background noise, it was far from reaching the point of consuming his reason. More than that, he seemed to be bothered by a different kind of “emptiness.”
“At this hour… the kitchen should have already started preparing breakfast.” Villanelle glanced at the night sky outside the window. “Stay right here. I’m going to sneak into the kitchen to swipe some food.”
Ignis nodded.
‘She seems very practiced at this. Must be a repeat offender.’
The door was gently pulled shut. He rolled over in his little nest, listening to the footsteps fading into the distance, but his thoughts drifted back to a short while ago.
When they left the incubation room, he had clearly sensed the presence of his own kind — many of them, a vast number.
As for why he knew they were his own kind? He instinctively felt those auras belonged to the Dragon Race, to beings just like him.
The sheer quantity gave him a faint sense of dread.
This fear stemmed not only from a bloodline-deep perception of his kin but from a cold reality: this massive Human Empire had turned Dragon Training into an industry no different from raising livestock.
Ignis had originally thought the incubation room was specifically for him, but in truth, he was merely one of countless samples. One more or one less made no difference.
‘I thought I had a VIP private room, but it turns out it was just a dormitory.’
‘It seems I was just flattering myself.’
Shaking his head, Ignis decided not to dwell on these troubling matters.
He had only been in this world for a short time. He needed to get through the first night before worrying about anything else.
A sliver of wind, cold as an icicle, pierced through a crack in the window and pulled him back to reality.
Ignis looked up, glancing first at the cold fireplace and then at the thin bedding on the bed.
‘Why is this room so drafty?’
‘This Fallen Princess is truly living in poverty.’
Ignis crawled out of his nest and crouched before the fireplace. Villanelle had already piled some firewood inside, but it hadn’t been lit.
He tried opening his dragon maw, wanting to see if he could produce a bit of fire.
He possessed the powerful constitution of the Dragon Race, so he wasn’t afraid of the cold, but the same couldn’t be said for Villanelle.
His body reacted quickly. Within his abdomen, a surge of scorching energy seemed to be gathering and churning.
Ignis focused his attention. Just as he would control a finger in his previous life, he guided the heat toward his throat inch by inch.
Using Dragon Breath was an act engraved into the very marrow of his bones, but since he had been a human in his past life, this sensation of precise physical control felt exceptionally interesting.
The process was a bit awkward, like manipulating an organ that didn’t belong to him, carrying a strange sensation similar to the urge to vomit.
Under Ignis’s relentless experimentation, the heat finally surged obediently to the back of his throat. Then, his throat began to burn.
That was about right.
He opened his mouth and forcefully drove the heat outward.
*Whoosh!*
A small Black Flame suddenly leaped from his mouth, crashing into the pile of wood in the fireplace.
Orange-red warmth instantly billowed out, spreading heat and illuminating Ignis’s molten-gold vertical pupils.
Having mastered supernatural power for the first time, he felt a sudden urge to play. His eyes darted around, looking for something else to burn.
But looking at the old furnishings in the room, Ignis quickly calmed down.
‘I shouldn’t play with fire too much. It’ll be a disaster if I burn the house down. That’s the kind of behavior that earns a scolding from your mother.’
Ignis extended one claw, scrutinizing it under the dim light of the Magic Guide Lamp.
Besides breathing fire, what other secrets did this body hold?
While he was lost in thought, the bedroom door was pushed open.
Villanelle had her staff tucked under her arm, her hands struggling to hold a large basket covered with a cloth.
Ignis sniffed. The rich aroma of meat hit him — the charred scent of grilled meat, the richness of stew, and the metallic tang of raw meat.
“I didn’t know what you liked to eat, so I just took a little bit of everything…” Villanelle set the basket down, slightly out of breath. She uncovered it and began setting out plates. “Eh? The fireplace?”
She noticed the crackling fire.
Ignis raised a claw and pointed at himself before looking back at the floor.
Four or five plates of food were laid out there: sliced grilled ribs, tenderly stewed meat, and even two whole smoked fish.
The expected feast did not happen.
Ignis leaned in to sniff the food, then backed away, a look of hesitation on his face.
The meat he had loved in his previous life now smelled greasy and unappealing. It even made him feel slightly nauseous.
“Very impressive,” Villanelle praised him, but she soon noticed Ignis’s strange behavior. She knit her beautiful brows. “Why aren’t you eating? Is it not to your taste? Should I go steal something else…?”
Ignis rushed over and grabbed her, shaking his head vigorously.
‘Alright, stop stealing. I’m afraid someone won’t have breakfast tomorrow and it’ll cause a scene.’
Villanelle understood the little black dragon’s meaning. She sat cross-legged, pulled him into her arms, and stared into his vertical pupils.
“Are you feeling unwell?”
Ignis shook his head.
Villanelle was at a loss.
‘What should I do… the Dragon Training Manual and dragon research don’t mention this at all. Why would a hatchling dislike fresh meat?’
A thought suddenly flashed through her mind.
‘Does he need to be nursed…?’
She instinctively glanced at her meager chest, which currently held only a layer of soft flesh.
‘Is… is that right?’
‘No, no, no!’
‘I haven’t even developed yet. How could I nurse him?’
‘And… the little guy’s teeth look quite sharp. It’s a terrifying thought…’
Ignis had no idea what kind of brainstorm the girl holding him was having. He only saw her face turn red — and a faint, golden shimmer surrounding her.
He immediately became alert.
‘What is that? Holy light?’
Ignis stared intently at the halo. It didn’t seem like light in the visual sense; at the very least, Villanelle herself had no unusual reaction.
Suddenly, a whisper resonated in his mind:
This was his “food,” something that could fill his sense of emptiness.
Almost instinctively, Ignis gently opened his mouth.
An invisible suction quietly manifested. The faint golden light surrounding Villanelle seemed to be pulled, peeling away from her body and flowing gracefully into his mouth.
It was sweet and warm. The emptiness in his stomach seemed to be filled instantly, and a warm current surged through his entire body.
‘Is that light some kind of Emotional Energy?’
‘Is it because Villanelle is in a good mood that this energy was produced?’
While Ignis speculated internally, he stole a few more glances at the girl beside him.
After the golden light was absorbed, Villanelle didn’t seem to have any adverse reaction, as if nothing had happened at all.
It seemed that “eating” just now was harmless to her.
Several hours had passed since he hatched. Within this body, some unexpected changes were likely occurring.
That was a good thing.
To avoid appearing too unusual, Ignis eventually forced himself to chew and swallow some of the meat. A portion of the rest went into Villanelle’s stomach, while the remainder was placed in the storage room.
The night deepened. The first night for the new member of the Twilight Tower passed quickly.