The Handbook for Completing Demi-Human Girls

Beneath Fisher, the figure of the blue-scaled Dragon-kin gradually overlapped with the figure of Lar, the youngest among the Dragon-kin sisters back then. Yet the child who was once the most innocent and naive—so childish she was completely unaware she was experiencing slave trafficking—now appeared exceptionally calm and composed.

She hadn't yet grown shining Dragon Horns. Wisps of sweat-dampened, sky-blue curly hair stuck to her forehead, creating a somewhat hazy look. Apart from the two sharp Daggers, her body, along with her Scales and clothes, was partially covered by light armor protecting crucial areas. At this moment, wisps of steam continuously erupted from beneath it...

Fisher knew full well that this phenomenon only occurred when a Dragon-kin's emotions fluctuated.

Fisher's gaze moved down little by little, taking in everything about the other party—both familiar and surprising. Only when he saw a deep scar on her exposed neck did he barely manage to stop. He didn't know if these scars were the catalysts that birthed the anomaly fierce blue Dragon-kin from earlier.

Lar gasped beneath him. Like Fisher, she was naturally also confirming whether the man before her with long hair and gradually tattered clothes was the immaculately dressed gentleman from yesteryear.

Whether in voice or appearance, the man before her certainly was. Yet even with the answer confirmed, she continued to look at Fisher, waiting for him to respond himself.

After a moment of silence, Fisher gently released Lar's imprisoned wrists and replied,

"...It's me, Lar."

He then stood up and swept a glance at the surrounding Red Dragon Court soldiers who were still glaring like tigers as they closed in. He made no further moves, abandoning his previous plan, and simply asked,

"Where is Raphaela?"

Fisher's voice slowly pulled Lar back to reality. She sat up slowly, not replying at first, but addressing the surrounding soldiers instead,

"He is a friend, not an enemy from the Pseudo-Court. Go carry the accidentally injured Capone and Ruhr back first. Don't worry..."

The surrounding Red Dragon Court soldiers, along with the injured soldiers who had just been picked up, looked doubtfully at Lar, who now seemed to be their leader. Then, one of the Demi-humans said, "We will report this to the Dragon Queen," before turning to leave.

"I will tell her personally."

Lar added one more sentence. Only when the soldiers over there walked further and further away, entirely disappearing into the leaves and trees of the same hue as them, did Lar turn her head back to look at Fisher. After scanning the Fisher before her up and down, she laughed and asked him,

"Fisher, how did you become like this? Before, you wore a formal suit and carried a Walking Stick. Now you look just like a beggar... But you are still as handsome as ever."

The silence was broken by Lar's simple sentence. Fisher also smiled and reached out a hand to Lar, who was sitting on the ground, pulling her up.

"I also want to know how the little one who only knew how to hide in Mill's embrace suddenly knows how to use Daggers."

"It's a long story, all for the New Dragon Court..."

Lar clapped her hands and stepped closer to Fisher. In comparison, her height—which was originally less than half of Fisher's—had abruptly shot up quite a bit. Now she actually reached just below Fisher's ribs. She patted Fisher's shoulder and said,

"But you definitely don't want to hear these things from me, right? Come with me. I'll take you to see Raphaea—wow, ah, what is this ugly thing?!"

Lar was just about to say something with a smile when out of the corner of her eye, she abruptly saw what seemed to be an eye blinking at her from Fisher's chest, right in front of her face. At first, she thought it was a hallucination produced after fighting, but upon closer inspection, she discovered the thing not only hadn't vanished, but was blinking even faster, seemingly sizing her up.

She hastily took a step back and said this quite defensively.

Infuriated, Eimhart flew straight out of Fisher's chest, cursing as he spoke to Lar,

"Your mom! I am the Great Sir Book Artifact Eimhart, not some ugly thing! This is the first time I've met such an impolite Dragon-kin! Very well, you have successfully lowered my overall opinion of Dragon-kin! I've decided! I'm moving Raphaela down another two spots on the list!"

"Fisher, what... what list?"

Lar looked at the Fisher beside her with a face full of blankness. He, expressionless, pulled the blustering book back into his hand and merely explained,

"It's nothing. Allow me to introduce you. This is Sir Book Artifact Eimhart, a good friend of mine. He cares quite a bit about how others address him, just ignore it."

Hearing Fisher call him a "good friend," Eimhart slowly quieted down. Although he continued to stare at the Lar before him with a look full of hostility, he finally stopped acting as Fisher's "suicide bomber" and disrupting the rhythm of his already immensely pressured Master.

"I see. I'm truly sorry. Just now, I was... just startled by you. Fisher, come with me. Raphaela is right in Defense Line One, quite a distance from here."

"Defense Line One?"

"Ah, it's the very front of our frontlines against the Pseudo-Court."

Lar didn't elaborate further, merely picking up the grappling hook Fisher had thrown aside and slinging it over her shoulder. It seemed that even weapons like this were indispensable to the Red Dragon Court.

"You are still so powerful now, just like back then. Completely different from other humans. With so many of us, we couldn't do a single thing to you..."

Lar led Fisher, moving rapidly towards an extremely hidden direction in the mountain range. Far from taking a leisurely stroll, they bounded swiftly across dense forests and cliffs throughout the journey. Yet seeing Lar's familiar and extremely agile appearance, it was obvious she had walked this path an unknown number of times.

Naturally, they weren't idle as they walked. They conversed just as they had back on the carriage, only the questions the silly Lar asked were no longer so childish and didn't leave one not knowing whether to laugh or cry.

"On the contrary, I'm curious why you guys targeted me."

In reality, when Fisher entered the town earlier, he discovered that he unintentionally exerted pressure on existences beneath the Mythic Rank. This was something Fisher, having newly ascended to the Mythic Rank, could not control. Though in the past at the Sanctuary, he felt that for the most part, the Mythical Species—even the Nineteenth-Tier Archangels—were quite gentle.

Thus, he concluded that the Mythic Rank must possess some method to lower their presence, letting them become less conspicuous and oppressive.

He had tried recently, like subjectively restraining his actions and becoming taciturn, but from Ingrid repeatedly trying yet failing to warn him with body language, it seemed completely useless.

So, it was quite strange that these Demi-human soldiers would target him.

Lar bounded rapidly ahead. Turning back to Fisher with an extremely perplexed look, she told him,

"Ah, because we often intercept the Pseudo-Court's offensives that try to push forward, so generally, when we see strangers, we control them first... Of course, apart from you, there shouldn't be any lost travelers here. Plus, your attire has changed quite a bit from before, and so much time has passed, so I also didn't recognize you for a moment."

It slightly missed the mark of the question, but Fisher already realized that the Lar before him seemed entirely unaware he was at the Mythic Rank, merely thinking he was still very powerful.

This was a bit strange...

Fisher didn't question further, only continuing to follow Lar, whose tail swayed gently in front of him.

Her tail was shorter and thinner than Raphaela's, but Fisher always felt that, in reality, a Dragon-kin's tail—like their steam and Scales in other areas—could, to a certain extent, reflect their mood, and sometimes, the individual themselves might not even realize this mood.

Their speed was fast. Less than a quarter of an hour later, they stopped in front of a strange, naturally-formed hollowed-out cave. Yet the surroundings remained completely empty and somewhat devoid of life, so it likely wasn't Raphaela's frontline general command post.

Lar stopped in her tracks, then turned to Fisher and said,

"Fisher, could you wait here for a moment? Sorry, I temporarily cannot take you to Raphaela and the frontline command post. Not because I don't trust you, but starting from a long time ago, many of our comrades-in-arms hold prejudice against humans from the West Continent. This isn't something Raphaela alone can decide. I don't want to cause trouble for Raphaela, nor do I want your reunion after a long separation to become filled with the smell of gunpowder..."

"I understand. Thank you, Lar."

Her gaze was a bit evasive, but rather than Raphaela saying these things later, she seemed more willing to play the "bad guy" herself.

Fortunately, however, Fisher had already prepared for such a scenario before coming.

So right now, he merely nodded to express his understanding.

Lar turned to look gratefully at the Fisher before her. Then, she tossed her Dagger to Fisher in the distance. Under Fisher's perplexed gaze, she turned her back, and her voice sounded out again before she prepared to leave,

"Trim your grown-out hair and stubble. If you want, that is. Though I think Raphaela wouldn't mind anyway..."

"Because, you're exactly the same as before."

Having said that, she leveraged against the nearby cliff and leaped up, bounding toward the denser forest further away. She quickly vanished from Fisher's line of sight, her destination unknown.

"Hah, this Dragon-kin. Alright, I temporarily forgive her earlier rudeness. But this is quite rare. From their perspective, you've been gone for over five years... Exactly how long did your journey to the Southern Continent with them last back then?"

"...Not long."

"Really? Now that's strange. Formerly, I thought those 'Dragon Songs' recorded in the wilderness were fake. Formerly, I read about a black male Dragon-kin who fell in love at first sight with a female Dragon-kin of the same race. He put a lot of effort into attracting the yellow Dragon-kin's attention and eventually married her. This process only took two months. Even more regrettably, after marrying him, the black Dragon-kin's wife contracted a disease and passed away..."

Fisher walked into the cave, holding the Dagger. Eimhart stood on his shoulder, sighing,

"It's hard to imagine, but after his wife passed away, he started writing his wife's 'Dragon Song' on a wall. Until he passed away, he wrote over two hundred of them. The entire wall was covered. Dragon Song, sigh. It's an obscure and hard-to-understand language. Legend has it they are sounds emitted by the Soul. As long as you can sing it, you can feel the emotion contained within. It's just a pity the Femabaha Dragon Court has been extinct for so long. Now, there's no one left who knows how to write it. I've only seen it in ancient ruins."

Fisher nodded. He discovered a rock inside the cave carrying dripping water droplets. Beneath that rock, a pool of clear water rippled with a faint glow, vaguely reflecting his approximate appearance.

It was enough.

Fisher raised the Dagger, preparing to trim his long hair and stubble, but it was only at this moment that he inadvertently noticed a short word strangely inscribed in Nari Language on the hilt.

He looked down and saw it read,

"Bread"

Looking at this word, Fisher couldn't help but find himself not knowing whether to laugh or cry. Yet subsequently, he still raised the Dagger and began grooming his appearance.

"Snip..."

"Snip..."

"Snip..."

His movements were gentle and slow, and as the process went on, his thoughts also gradually became tranquil. Everything around became extremely quiet; even Eimhart acting bored to death—yawning, flying all over the sky, and complaining about why that Dragon-kin named "Raphaela" or whatever hadn't arrived yet—could no longer be heard.

Only when the hair on the ground fell, and then in his eyes seemingly gained life, turning into innumerable indistinguishable little black bugs wriggling about, before slowly disintegrating into flying ash, did he abruptly halt the blade in his hand.

Because at this moment, within the extremely acute perception of his Mythic Rank, behind him, from a distance away, he suddenly heard a burst of extremely hurried running sounds...

Accompanying the sound was a trace of untrappable, irregular panting, and the frictional sounds of armor against armor, armor against Scales...

He didn't turn back, merely listening to the running footsteps growing faster and faster, until even Eimhart seemed to hear it, hastily flying back into his coat and poking out a single eye to carefully survey the cave entrance, where the faint sunlight seemed to isolate the inner and outer worlds.

Yet Fisher still didn't turn back, merely clenching the blade in his hand a bit tighter.

"Step, step, step, step, step, step..."

The closer to the cave, the slower those originally hurried footsteps became.

It felt like some form of the unbelievable, some form of uncertain hesitation. Only when the figure saw the cave, saw the figure in the cave facing away from her, did her footsteps truly become exceedingly slow, as if every step was moved with great difficulty...

Until she walked to the cave entrance, blocking the sunlight, casting a scorching shadow onto Fisher's back—wearing armor, a head of long hair draped down, and a tail held high.

Eimhart gulped, watching the dragon shadow at the cave entrance.

Until she continued forward, crossing the latch forged of sunlight, and stepped into the cave.

That shadow climbed down little by little from Fisher's body until it hit the ground, crawling towards her physical form.

And at this moment, Fisher also turned his head little by little, taking in the figure not far behind him into his eyes.

It was a wisp of a soul that seemed to be burning fiercely. Under the light lingering of faint steam covering her body, her form—which clearly bore heavy armor—was rendered so graceful in Fisher's eyes.

The tail behind her rose in disbelief, then, quivering like a rattlesnake, drooped down, clinging to her feet, acting like a delicate maiden timidly surveying the gentleman from afar.

She clenched her fists slightly. The Scales serving as protection—her second layer of armor—trembled once again, seemingly drawn by an indescribable attraction.

She wasn't wearing a helmet. Above her heroic and valiant posture in armor, a head of waterfall-like crimson long hair cascaded down. On her exceedingly beautiful face, the expression at this moment was difficult to describe. Fisher only felt that the muscles around her eyes were constantly and subtly rising and falling.

Beneath a pair of bright horns, her emerald green eyes, akin to a pool of clear spring water and a lake, crashed into the man's figure. Then, layers of ripples visible to the naked eye splashed outwards.

The Dragon-kin before him was an infrequently seen true-red Scaled Dragon-kin; the Dragon-kin before him was the Dragon Queen of the Dragon Court stubbornly resisting in the far south of the Southern Continent.

The Dragon-kin before him was Fisher's Tail-Compatible Partner, Raphaela.

"Fi..."

Through the years, her appearance hadn't changed significantly. She was just as clear as when she left, but no longer impulsive.

She stepped closer to Fisher little by little. As these two people, separated for a long time, met again at this moment, even Fisher felt there should be some unfamilarity.

The longing and urgent feeling of wanting to meet Raphaela he had considered previously, the words he had brewed for a long time and wanted to say to her—at this moment absentmindedly—were entirely wiped blank by her face.

He suddenly didn't know what to say. Just like Raphaela before him, his lips quivered for a long time, yet only a single beginning syllable of his name was revealed.

Damn it, say something already!

Eimhart, staying in Fisher's coat, was an uninvolved bystander who could see things clearly. What great winds and waves hadn't he seen? At this moment, he looked east at Fisher and west at the Raphaela he was meeting for the first time. He truly wished he could blurt this sentence out and slap awake the bewilderment of these two people.

But ultimately, he didn't do so. Instead, he honestly pretended to be a lifeless, thoughtless book, leaving everything of the reunion to be felt by themselves.

Not a single sentence of dialogue was spoken, yet the distance between them kept shrinking little by little.

And amidst this approach, Raphaela's tail and Scales—or rather, her soul—had already sensed something first.

As if the correct passcode had been entered, the raised, sharp layers of Scales on her body visibly and extremely shockingly began to lay flat, spewing out exceedingly excited steam from within, akin to some joyous hymn.

The moment that phenomenon appeared, all the barriers and estrangement formed from not seeing each other for a long time dissipated into smoke. Unfulfilled, profound longing and many, many grievances that desperately needed to be poured out remained.

Raphaela's eyes stung, and then she violently threw herself into Fisher's embrace, as if she wanted to sink herself into his body.

Her tail wrapped around him coil after coil, startling an ill-timed Eimhart into flying out, leaving the space for Raphaela to lean on.

"Wuu, wuu, wuu..."

"..."

Fisher also reached out and tightly hugged her back. Even separated by a layer of armor, it still couldn't block that scorching heat.

Unexpected to both Raphaela and Fisher, at this moment, her horns—originally completely ethereal to Fisher—actually solidly touched Fisher's body. Following the point of contact between her Dragon Horn and Fisher's body, a seemingly invisible bridge was constructed, tightly connecting the two of them together.

At this moment, truly like a real Dragon-kin couple, they connected their souls with Dragon Horns and Scales, thereby possessing the Dragon-kin love eulogized by the world.

A drop of scalding tear flowed down her face. Only then did she lift her head slightly, making her Dragon Horn touch Fisher's face, bringing it closer and closer to him.

Only at this moment did she finally let down her guard...

Everything she felt now was not a dream, but truly real...

The person before her was Fisher. Her deeply missed Fisher.

She rubbed her face against his and said,

"It's so wonderful... you're back, Fisher..."

And Fisher also lowered his head, accepting everything of hers, and spoke softly,

"Yes, I'm back, Raphaela."