Tsundere

Alice froze—pupils shaking.
She slowly looked down—at the slowly sliding pile on her chest—her expression gradually losing control.

From gentle girl—regressing to her true self.

The villainess Alice was back.

Black: “… …”

This little beast—it’s doomed me.

Friend? Partner? We’re not close!

He opened his mouth—closed it—finally squeezed out:

“…Accident, Sire… just an accident!”

Alice’s fingertips began to tremble.

The culprit on her head had zero awareness—even let out a satisfied burp.

Affectionately nuzzled her cheek—smearing dragon feces all over her face.

“B-L-A-C-K!”

Alice’s voice squeezed from between teeth—filled with unprecedented killing intent.

“Innocent, Sire!” Black stepped back three steps—hands raised.
“How was I supposed to know it’d suddenly—!”

……

When Karina arrived at the training ground—the scene shocked her.

Did she enter wrong?

Her mistress was chasing Black with a sword—no, also the hatchling.

Man and dragon fleeing frantically, extremely pathetic.

“Sire is…”

She noticed—her mistress’s face and clothes were covered in something like feces—a faintly nauseating smell lingering.

No way?
Don’t tell me?

After connecting terrifying dots—Karina’s worldview collapsed.

Her cold, pure mistress—was no longer clean!

……

Late night—bright moon high.

Moonlight shone on dark sea—ripples glittering.

In a top-floor cabin of the Hodir.

Alice sat upright in her study—processing a mountain of documents on her desk.

Expression serious—occasionally pausing—brows furrowed in thought.

The room reeked of pear blossom perfume—as if deliberately hiding something.

An ordinary person would cover their nose.

Like Black now.

Black stood behind Alice—silently pinching his nose.

The dragon on his shoulder copied him—pinching its tiny nose.

Just as the hatchling couldn’t take it—about to fly away—Black grabbed its wing, forcibly keeping it.

Hmph. This little beast made him chased by Alice, scrub decks, starve all day.

Now—midnight—can’t sleep—must endure this pungent perfume.

Because of this—Black decided the dragon should feel this tired, hungry sensation too.

Gurgle.

A hungry sound—from the hatchling.

Black glared—warning: “Disturb the mistress again—we suffer more.”

The dragon stuck out its tongue—innocent look.

Gurgle.

Another hungry sound—this time not the dragon’s.

Black’s.

Black’s face darkened—lips twitching—tightened his belt silently.

“… …”

Alice’s train of thought was interrupted by these two hungry sounds.

She turned—glared at Black.

Today was definitely her worst mood day.

This princess—noble status—slightly obsessive-compulsive.

After that incident—imagine the collapse.

Afterward—she bathed for five hours straight, sprayed three bottles of perfume—only then felt slightly better.

If not for Black teaching her swordsmanship and taming methods today—she’d have thrown him into the sea for sea dragons.

“Sorry, Sire—man is iron, food is steel. Skipping one meal makes you weak.”

Black tried to soften the ice queen’s expression.

Seeing man and dragon look so pitiful—Alice softened slightly.

After a few seconds—she stiffly pushed an untouched plate of delicate pastries to the table corner.

Eyes still on documents: “I don’t like sweets… Get rid of this trash. Don’t make noise.”

Black blinked—then understood.

Huh? Didn’t this villainess’ character say she loves sweets?

So she’s a little tsundere?

Of course—he wouldn’t dare mock.

Silently took two pastries—one tossed to the dragon, one ate himself. Man and dragon kept quiet.

Alice glanced sideways—lips curling in a barely noticeable smile.

“You may rest.”

After they finished the snacks—Alice dismissed Black.

Watching them leave—Alice’s expression turned complex.

Swordsmanship. Taming methods. Black knew too much.

Too much—not like a lowborn pirate.

She’d lowered her guard—but now it rose again.

Instinct told her—Black’s identity was definitely not simple.

From the start—him knowing Jörmungandr’s intel was absurd.

But for some reason—she found it hard to distrust or hate Black.

She felt her feelings toward him were growing strange.

A feeling she’d never had toward any other man.

And if Black truly had ill intentions—he wouldn’t go through so much trouble teaching her swordsmanship and taming.

Most importantly—his spirit energy was truly Level 10.
No matter how skilled, fast—his skill power was Level 10.

“Whatever—we’ll see.”

Now the fleet neared the Caribbean Sea—she had no time for other matters.

After leaving Alice’s study—

Black’s expression turned serious—no longer carefree.

Tonight—he had important things to do.

After returning the dragon to his room—he casually pulled out a wooden box.

Inside—was the Dragonfang Blade stolen from the Dragonblood Council.

Staring at the dagger—Black’s eyes rarely showed killing intent.

Tonight—he’d use this blade to kill members of the Dragonblood Council, weakening their power.

An hour later.

Still the Hodir’s cargo hold.

As usual—pitch dark—can’t see fingers.

A creepy atmosphere spread.

Thump. Thump.

Black’s footsteps echoed—dull, oppressive in the silence.

According to his guess—the Council shouldn’t appear here tonight.

The closer to battle day—the more they’d gather in another cabin for meetings.

But after the Dragonfang Blade’s disappearance—hard to guarantee plans didn’t change.

So—to be safe—Black wore black clothes and a different mask, same as last time.

Even if he met the Council leader—with his knowledge of Dragonblood Council lore—he could likely bluff his way through.

Following the previous route—Black smoothly reached the end—the small room where the Dragonfang Blade was kept.

Taking a deep breath—Black tightened the Dragonfang Blade—pushed the door open.