Ren entered the city with the heaviness of someone walking into a punishment center, not a traveler's paradise.
Behind him, Estar bounced lightly, her horns and tail hidden as promised, dressed in a simple gown that covered everything but her eyes—eyes that sparkled with gentle madness.
"The city's name is… concerning," Ren muttered as he read the sign:
City of the Seven Dragons – Where Iron and Fire Breathe Love!
"Isn't it romantic?" Estar asked, clinging to his arm.
"If love means screaming and dragons, then sure… super romantic."
The street buzzed with warriors, street vendors, mages holding talking crocodiles, and kids selling illegal charms for chewing gum. The atmosphere pulsed with chaotic energy.
"What are we looking for here?" Ren yawned.
"There's an underground battle arena!" Estar whispered excitedly. "They say the winner gets the 'Dragon's Eye,' a gem that reveals lies and breaks seals!"
"Do we need it?"
"No, but it's shiny."
"…Fair reason," he muttered sarcastically.
---
In the underground arena, Ren stood in the ring wearing a strange cloak he found in an alley behind a tavern. Embroidered in silver thread on the back were the words: "Professional Slacker."
His opponent was a massive fighter named Bakra the Three-Armed, a man with a third arm growing from his chest, holding a sword larger than a medium-sized dog.
"You're my opponent?" Bakra laughed.
"Unfortunately," Ren replied, examining his nails.
"I finish my enemies in three strikes!"
"Perfect. I've got three minutes before my dinner gets cold."
The crowd burst out laughing. Estar, seated on the stands, chewed on an apple with glowing eyes.
"Cut off his head, Ren!" she yelled, then added with a playful smirk, "Do it, and I'll let you sleep on my thigh tonight."
"…Now it's serious."
---
Bakra charged like a hellbound train, his three swords shining like a steel storm.
Ren didn't move.
He stood still, motionless.
Then, at the last moment, he slightly tilted his head.
One strike.
Just one.
His arm rose lazily, as if saying "I don't have time for this," and he struck the air.
The result?
A devastating burst of energy. The arena shattered, stones exploded, and Bakra flew into the ceiling of the cave before crashing down like a sack of potatoes.
"The winner!" the referee shouted, his face frozen in shock.
"Can I get the gem now?" Ren asked, stretching like a cat waking from a nap.
---
Later that night, they sat in a wooden inn room.
The gem sparkled on the table, and Ren was half-asleep, his head resting on Estar's thigh as she gently played with his hair, smiling.
"You were amazing," she whispered. "Like you were born just to turn me on… and stir up sweet chaos in this world."
He mumbled in his sleep, "I hate fighting… love pillows."
She giggled softly, then kissed his forehead and whispered:
"I'm your pillow from now on, my destructive slacker."