The salty ground lent itself well to carving runes.
Konrad didn't have glowing ink, so he resorted to the tip of his bastard sword.
Not the most elegant solution, but he worked with what he had.
Never in a fever dream would he have thought of drawing magic circles in the middle of a raid.
And modified ones at that—the dragon projecting steady images into his mind the whole time.
"You sure this'll work?" Konrad asked only once, his real concern being somewhere else. "And you can actually guide the tribesmen while we do this?"
Earlier, she even struggled with telepathy, and she seemed way more tired now.
But also confident.
'I gave them a scale for a reason,' she said, showing him a glimpse of another chamber. 'The captives are in that tunnel to the left. I sent all the goblins in the area to the right.'
"Was it your fault they attacked?" Konrad gave her a side eye, pausing his carving.
'Pfft, no? The Church neglected the defenses. They filled in some shafts, but not each one—the beasts had an easy way in. I only used them once they were here.'
He had a hard time trusting her on that, when she didn't even reveal her name, still.
'It's not that I'm keeping it a secret,' the dragon scoffed, smoke puffing from her snout. She raised her head, only to let it fall on the ground again. 'I—I forgot, okay?'
Konrad paused, staring at the majestic beast.
Not because he didn't believe her—they were in the same shoes.
Konrad was the only name he knew, even after the spirits restored his memories. He remembered his childhood friends, his egotistic boss, and even Lily now.
He knew who he was before, but not his name.
The dragon seemed to have remembered the Green Mage and Welf's grandfather, too. It couldn't have been a coincidence, sparking some sympathy towards her.
She was a prisoner for a century, while he was slaving away by himself for his past lifetime.
'Poetic,' she noted, ruining the moment. 'But you do have a name now, Konrad Halstadt.'
"Or Ostfeld," he scoffed. "I have more than enough names for one person."
He had gotten them when he was reborn, coming from parents he never knew.
'Well, if this pentagram works, it'll be like I'm reborn, too,' the dragon claimed. 'It's almost like you're my new parent—so why don't you give me a name as well, daddy?'
Konrad froze mid-stroke, eyes going wide then narrow on the beast.
Disregarding the fact that she was three hundred years old—calling him daddy—his mind went for a wild ride. He must've made that word sound dirtier than it had to be, but—
'Oh, kinky,' a bright giggle echoed in his mind. 'I wasn't meaning it like that, although—'
She left the sentence hang open, messing with Konrad's concentration.
She was a dragon, for crying out loud. And his mind was too dirty—but then, he had a harem.
He shook his head, feeling the blood rush into his face.
"A name, huh?" He tried to change the topic, but couldn't exactly look at her again.
He didn't have to. Her tail swished on the floor, close to wiping his hard work away.
She had bright red scales—they reminded him of a country's flag from his previous life.
His northern neighbour, with an iconic, red leaf between stripes. What tree was that again?
'Hmm, Maple?' the dragon asked, her tail stopping as she pondered.
Because, of course, she wasn't only projecting her voice inside his head, but had read all his thoughts, too. If there were a spell to block telepaths, Konrad wanted to learn it soon.
'But I like the sound of that,' she noted, huge yellow eyes almost glowing. 'Isn't that a person's name in that world you're from, too? It sounds cute.'
"Um, yeah, it can be." Konrad nodded, a bit confused. "You want me to call you Maple?"
A mighty dragon? It didn't exactly scream power and awe.
'And that is why,' she reasoned. 'I don't want people to fear me. I wasn't locked away because I did anything wrong—I'm a very nice, friendly neighborhood dragon.'
Konrad snorted.
"Right, that you are," he said, leaning on his sword. "If that's even a thing—Maple."
The dragon's eyes gleamed even brighter, her tail slamming into the ground.
The little things that made her excited—
"Okay, don't ruin my magic circle," Konrad shot her down. "I still have to bust you out of here."
It took him ten more minutes to finish carving, while Maple kept him updated on the rescue mission. Vargas and the tribesmen found the captives and were heading out.
They were all malnourished but alive—about a hundred extra mouths to feed in the future.
Former nobles, their families, captured tribesmen, and 'heretics'. Anyone the Inquisitor didn't want to get in his way, and couldn't escape the catacombs when Konrad did.
"You kept your word, and I won't let you down, either," he promised, making his final touches.
All he had left to do was to pour his mana into the symbols—but the dragon made it much more difficult than it had to be. The change was immediate and very distracting.
'Oh, yes, daddy,' she moaned straight into his head. 'I can feel it—you're inside me.'
"Holy shit, why are you making it sound so dirty?" Konrad complained, blushing hard.
The dizziness he felt when using so much of his mana was always part of the course, but this?
He was ready for a nosebleed, but didn't expect an erection.
'I, ah—can't help it,' she claimed, her entire body smoking now. 'The drain—for a century. I, uuh, your mana gives me such a relief. Give me more, daddy, give it all to me.'
It was almost impossible to concentrate. Was Stella feeling the same when he was—
'Oh, you can bet she had,' the dragon answered with another moan. 'If someone ever transferred their mana into you—ah-mazing.'
The closest he could think of was Lily's healing—now he could understand.
And his erection refused to go down.
He tried closing his eyes, but with Maple's ecstatic voices in his head, that was even worse.
When he blinked, though, crystals started to form.
They were shiny strands at first, coming from the fissure, enveloping the dragon's leg.
Purple, like the Griphlet's cores, they glowed as they grew thicker.
'Yes, daddy, almost there. I can feel it.'
Konrad's mana pool depleted faster than he had expected. He had at least eight hundred points in the bank when he started, and now he was down to fifty. The adamantite sword was up next.
By the time he poured in his reserves, too, the dragon's yellow eyes rolled back inside her head.
The crystal chain grew thicker than his arms. Then, as Maple let out sounds that Konrad could only describe as orgasmic, his blade came down hard.
The seal shattered into a million pieces, the magic exploding with such force—he flew back.
Even the ground shook, smoke engulfing the dragon and the entire chamber.
Intense was the only way he could've described it.
Unless—he went for dirty.
"Maple?" he shouted into the thick smoke obscuring his vision.
His mind fell silent—too silent for once. The dragon's voice disappeared.