Dance of Oath

The reality before her was unbelievable—Alice’s lips trembled slightly, as if wanting to speak, but only a faint breath escaped.
“Equality and respect… are the only bonds the Imperial Winged Dragon acknowledges.”

Black gently stroked the little dragon’s wings, slowly releasing his spirit link.

This was the game’s hidden taming method.

Simple, easy—something these characters and NPCs could never conceive.

Releasing a priceless dragon? Utterly absurd.

Blue spirit energy and golden light slowly intertwined.

Progress surged—1% to 100% in an instant!

After completion—a blue panel appeared before Black:

[Contracted Pet: Imperial Winged Dragon]
[Species Value: 700]
[Class Level: Lv.39]
[Favorite Foods: Omnivorous—red fruits, fish, ores]
[Skills: Wind Blade, Swallow Return, Lightning Flash…]

Almost identical to the game.

The only difference? After linking—Black felt a mystical connection with the hatchling.
He could sense its emotional fluctuations.

The dragon affectionately nuzzled Black—like a kitten.

“This! This! He actually tamed the Imperial Winged Dragon!”
“Literary, Martial, Dragon Duels—all three won! This guy’s no ordinary man!”
“I’ve never seen anyone win all three! He’ll dance the Oath Dance with Princess Alice! Damn, I’m jealous!”

For every noble—the night’s excitement was beyond imagination.

In Dragonheart Empire’s maritime records—no noble had ever won all three duels—let alone a mere pirate.

Back in the empire—this news would dominate headlines.

Though many disliked Black—he was now rising like the sun. Even Duke heirs wouldn’t dare mock him.

For Cyril, son of a Round Table Knight—tonight was truly shocking.

His eyes narrowed—studying the boy playing with the dragon.

His intuition screamed—this person couldn’t have been just a pirate.

After returning home—he’d need to investigate his origins.

With this affinity for dragons—maybe he could be used as key material for the Human-Dragon Experiment.

Cyril wasn’t like the brainless Seth—he was far more calculating.

Even if thinking cruel, heartless thoughts—his face might show only a gentle smile.

A snake in the shadows was far more terrifying than a wolf.

“Since you won all three contests—the Dragonvein Fruit is naturally yours.”

Duke Gran handed Black a wooden box.

This youth seemed harmless, average—non-noble—yet so outstanding?

Gran looked like a kind white-haired grandfather—but internally—plotting.

Could he have been faking? Hiding his strength?

Days ago—the Dragonblood Council mentioned the Dragonfang Blade was stolen by an unknown figure. Unknown if it was an insider or outsider.

Could that unknown figure be him?

As soon as this thought arose—Gran dismissed it.

Black was truly Level 10—Gran, a Dragon-Rank master, saw this clearly.

He could only suppress his doubts.

Black took the box—opened it—revealing a red oval fruit, still warm to the touch.

Definitely the Dragonvein Fruit.

He never expected it would end up in his hands.

Just days ago—before becoming a guard—he only wanted to eat at the ball.

By sheer coincidence—he’d participated in all three contests.

Truly, fate had other plans.

But now—he could only proceed step by step.

As long as the prologue’s ending remained unchanged—everything was under control.

Now—he had a troublesome issue to handle.

Dancing the Oath Dance with Alice.

Thinking of this—Black’s head ached.

In-game—he’d danced it before. Just reach a certain affection level—then press keys like a rhythm game.

Now—he had to dance himself!

How was he supposed to know? The original body’s memories had nothing. A village boy—how could he know noble dances?

With his broadcast gymnastics-level skills—if he danced with Alice—he’d probably step on her feet the whole time.

Him looking bad? Fine. But embarrassing the princess? Not good.

Just as Black planned how to sneak away—Alice stood before him.

Other nobles’ gazes turned toward them.

Elaina and Krystin too—but Elaina, the little bunny, looked odd—like she’d eaten a sour radish.

Krystin smiled sweetly—though her smile was slightly ambiguous.

At the ball’s center—Black stared at Alice in her dark red gown—breathtakingly beautiful—feeling his throat dry.

Her cold, gleaming red eyes watched him—less authority, more complex emotions he couldn’t read.

After the Azure Triad Contests—did Alice’s attitude toward him… soften? Become closer?

Did he raise her affection?

This was an otome game—not a galgame.

Black gritted his teeth—lowered his voice—only for Alice:

“Your Highness—I must confess—I don’t know how to dance the Oath Dance.”

Alice’s expression didn’t change—as if she’d expected it.

She leaned closer—her cool voice barely audible:

“Rules are rules. You wouldn’t want to defy the Empress, would you?”
“And—it’s just a formality. Those rumors about mystical blessings? Baseless.”

Black agreed.

Just dancing—mystical blessings? Too exaggerated.

If a girl willingly danced the Oath Dance with you—she already liked you. Her accepting your proposal later? Not strange.
Had nothing to do with the dance.

Alice paused—her red eyes flashing a subtle light.

“No matter. Just relax—follow my lead. I’ve learned the Oath Dance—I’ll guide everything.”

With that—Black had no excuse left.

He took a deep breath—gently placed his hand on Alice’s slender, strong waist.

Through luxurious fabric—he could still feel her supple yet firm lines.

Alice guided his other hand into position—then placed her own on his waist.