Chapter One Hundred and Fifty-Two
Crow leaned back as the wind from Xar'Zenth's shifting wings gently stirred the tall grass. The great dragon rolled slightly in its sleep, curling tighter around the base of the cliff like a living mountain.
In front of him, however, was an unexpected sight.
Sylvanna, the ever-stoic Elven Primordial, stood with her arms slightly behind her back, cheeks faintly flushed. Her emerald eyes looked away—yet every few seconds flicked back to Crow. She opened her mouth… closed it again… then, quietly:
"…Head pats. Please."
Liana didn't hesitate. She stepped forward with a confident smile, tilting her head up. "It's only fair. After all, I've saved you from at least three awkward conversations with lovesick heroes today."
Then Elyndra stepped softly beside them, her presence quiet and serene, but her voice resolute. "Physical gestures of comfort are… statistically proven to improve divine morale."
Crow blinked.
He had faced demon kings, destroyed armies, and outwitted power-hungry guilds.
But now, three Primordial god-rank beings—each capable of shattering nations—were staring at him with a shared, innocent request.
"…Fine," he said.
He stepped forward and placed a gentle hand atop Sylvanna's head first. Her breath hitched slightly, her usual composure faltering as her eyes closed and she leaned into the touch.
Then Liana. The confident smirk melted into something more vulnerable as he ruffled her snowy white hair, and a soft purr—a purr—escaped her throat.
And finally, Elyndra. The stars that floated in her silver-blonde hair dimmed slightly, as if the entire cosmos paused to enjoy the simple contact of a head pat.
The air was peaceful. Warm. Radiant.
For just a moment, the world forgot war, ambition, and quests.
Crow sighed.
"What have I gotten myself into?" he muttered, patting all three again with a resigned—but faintly smiling—expression.
And somewhere in the distance, Xar'Zenth snorted in its sleep.
Possibly… jealous.