In the same room?

In the world of Dragonblood, there existed three primal forces: Magic, Spirit, and Divine Edict.
Though the six classes—Sorcerer, Priest, Hexer, Healer, Summoner, and Sage—had different names, their power all stemmed from Magic. The difference lay only in how they manipulated it, and their specialized focus.

Sorcerers excelled in offensive spells.
Priests in buffs and support.
Hexers in curses and debuffs.
Healers in regeneration.
Summoners in pet summoning.
Sages were jack-of-all-trades.

These six were interchangeable.
Low-tier spells could be cast across classes.

Likewise, the other six—Warrior, Knight, Swordsman, Archer, Assassin, and Pirate—drew power from Spirit, the source of physical strength.

Magic was mental force.
Spirit was bodily force.

And beyond both—there was a rare third: Divine Edict.

Every class could use it.
Each profession had its own unique Divine Edict—a powerful skill with effects tailored to their role.

For example:

A Sorcerer’s Novice Divine Edict—Soul Burst—unleashed a magical attack with 200% damage output.
A Warrior’s Novice Divine Edict—Unshakable as Mountain—granted an invisible armor layer, drastically boosting defense.
Each time a class advanced a tier, a new Divine Edict awakened.
Sorcerers: Soul Burst (Novice) → Judgment (Mid-Tier).

So as a Novice Sorceress, Elaina could not only perform cross-class alchemy—but also use Divine Edicts.

“Phew!”

After the final incantation, the once-worthless magic residue had transformed—into two droplets of black liquid, softly glowing.

“It’s real! It’s Obsidian Nectar!”

Elaina’s eyes lit up, her voice trembling with joy—pure, unfiltered happiness.

She knew it was real.
She’d stared through the window of a magic potion shop so many times, longing for just one bottle.
But she never had the coins.
Now, the image of that black liquid—etched in her memory—had become hers.

“From this moment, it’s yours.”

Black smiled faintly, pulling out two pre-prepared vials.
He carefully poured the nectar, handed one to Elaina, and kept the other.

He hadn’t gone through all this trouble just for her.
He needed her magic to refine it—for his own future breakthrough.

In the end? A win-win.

“Y-you’re really giving this to me?”

Elaina’s soft voice quivered, hesitant.

No one had ever given her something so valuable.
She nearly choked up.

This tiny vial was worth 100 gold coins outside.
To her “sisters”? Pocket change.
To her? Priceless.

“Of course. What? You don’t want it? Then I’ll take it back.”

“Thank you!”

Elaina took the vial, eyes shining.
She stood, smoothed her dress, and gave Black a perfect noble bow.

Heh. This little bunny’s so polite.

Black chuckled, about to say “you may rise”—when his stomach growled.

“Grumble.”

He flushed—embarrassed.
He hadn’t eaten all day, and after diving into the sea? Of course he was starving.

Elaina didn’t laugh.
Instead, she paused—then said:

“Come with me.”

“Where to?”

“The mess hall.”

“It’s way past dinner! The cooks are asleep!”

“You’ll see.”

She led him to the kitchen behind the mess hall.
No chefs in sight.

But Elaina didn’t hesitate.
She rolled up her sleeves, revealing delicate white wrists, grabbed a sea fish from the bucket, and—slice—began gutting and bleeding it with expert precision.

Black stared, dumbfounded.

Right.
In the original novel, Elaina’s mother died young, her father ignored her, and she was bullied constantly—often going hungry.

So she developed a habit: sneaking into the kitchen at night to cook.
Her skills became top-tier.

In the story, this talent won over the male lead’s heart—and stomach.

Soon, a mouthwatering aroma filled the air.

“Please.”

A plate of braised fish sat before him—perfectly seasoned, golden-brown, irresistible.

Black took a bite.
Elaina watched, eagerly.

He didn’t hold back—gave her a big thumbs-up.

“This dish belongs in heaven!”

“Y-yes!”

Elaina smiled, truly happy.
For a girl who’d been scolded her whole life, even one compliment meant the world.

Starving, Black dug in—chomp, chomp, chomp—devouring the fish in seconds.

Elaina sat quietly across from him, watching every bite.

In the small kitchen, warmth bloomed.

Then—an unwelcome voice shattered the peace.

“…What are you doing?”

Both jumped, turning to see the intruder.

It was Second Princess Alice of the Dragonheart Empire.

And she did not look happy.

F***

Black thought: This is bad.
The princess hated those who forgot their place.

To her, nobles were nobles.
Commoners were below.
Pirates? Not even human.

And now—before her eyes—a duchess’s daughter, a high noble, and a pirate, a non-person, were crammed together in a kitchen.

Worse—Elaina was wearing an apron, like she’d just cooked.

And for whom? The answer was obvious.

Alice’s gaze fell on the braised fish.
Her expression darkened.

She turned to Elaina, voice icy:

“Elaina. Tell me—who is your father? What is his status?”

“Her Highness, my father is Gordon Zoke—Duke of the Empire.”

“If you know you’re a duchess’s daughter, why are you cooking for a lowly pirate? Sharing the same room with him?”

Elaina glanced at Black, her mood dimming. She said nothing.

“You may be a bastard child, but you’re still nobility. You carry the honor and pride of the aristocracy. I expect you to remember that. Leave.”

“…Yes.”

Elaina knew staying would only anger the princess further.
She bowed and left.

Now, only Black and Alice remained.

The air turned cold, heavy.

Black wanted to say: “Hey, Princess, you chased Elaina away—now it’s just you and me in this room. Isn’t that a violation of royal dignity?”

But he saw Alice’s sword—still in its sheath—and wisely stayed silent.

Whoosh!

But even without words—the sword drew anyway.

Alice lunged at Black, the blade charged with sharp sword qi.
Even from a distance, it stung his skin.

The tip advanced—closer, closer—