A Fleeting Spring Dream

Black offered a casual excuse.

“That emblem—the interwoven dragon wings—it’s the classic sigil of the Draconic Parliament.”

Hearing this, Alice naturally believed him.

After all, few in the entire continent dared to assassinate the imperial family.

The Draconic Parliament was one of them.

Her heart sank.

Her crimson lips pressed into a thin line,a shadow of dread darkening her brow.

“If it really is them… this is far worse than I thought.”

In Alice’s mind, given the Parliament’s ruthlessness,

they likely intended to slaughter everyone on this ship.

“The Dragon Tide yesterday was already so fierce—

how could another strike today?”

“Could it be that Jörmungandr is about to break its sealand senses our threat?”

“Or… was it orchestrated by Orex?”

She couldn’t make sense of the tides’ sudden frequency.

“Maybe.”

Black had no answer for her.

He didn’t care.

Whatever Jörmungandr was planning,once they entered the Caribbean Sea,he’d fish it out himself—leaving it no time to execute any schemes.

Realizing the discussion led nowhere,they fell into silence once more.

The safe room’s walls—made of some unknown soundproof material—blocked out every external noise.

They had no way of knowing the battle’s outcome.

A deep sense of helplessness wrapped around them.

Time crawled.

The chamber was cramped—their bodies nearly touching,as close as if they were embracing.

Whenever their eyes met,both instinctively looked away,too flustered to hold the gaze.

Only their ragged breaths and pounding hearts filled the dim space.

The wall-mounted crystal flickered intermittently—plunging the room into brief darkness.

Each time it dimmed,Alice unconsciously clutched Black’s sleeve.

So she’s afraid of the dark?

Black smiled faintly to himself—

but said nothing.

Then, suddenly,he felt something wrong with his body.

At first, he thought it was just the wound healing.

But soon, his blood began to burn.

An indescribable heat surged from deep within,racing through his veins,making his skin hypersensitive—every brush of fabric sending jolts of strange stimulation.

His breath grew heavy.

His heart hammered like a war drum.

Sweat beaded on his brow—not cold, but scorching hot.

He knew this wasn’t normal healing.

“Mm…”

A soft, breathy moan—laced with unnatural, honeyed allure—escaped from beside him.

Black jolted in alarm.

He turned sharply to Alice.

The composed princess was gone.

In her place was a vision of flushed, trembling desire—her cheeks crimson as ripe fruit,her usually clear ruby eyes now hazy with lust,her gaze drifting with a seductive languor he’d never seen before.

Something was very, very wrong.

Black realized—both of them were affected.

But he couldn’t quite grasp it—his mind felt foggy, weightless.

Alice’s eyes kept flickering over Black’s bare upper torso—exposed from his torn tunic.

Her throat bobbed.

Her lips parted.

Her breathing turned ragged.

“Black…”

“Do you… do you feel it too…?”

“So… so hot… so… strange…”

She felt something thrumming inside her—an unbearable emptiness, a desperate craving.

Black, too, felt a primal urge surging through him—his blood pooling hotly in places it shouldn’t.

Hearing her voice—so sweet, so wanton—made his pulse spike.

Then it hit him.

He looked down at his arm.

Still stained with dried green dragon blood—now absorbed into his skin.

A forgotten game mechanic exploded in his memory like thunder.

His face went deathly pale.

“Shit…!”

“What’s wrong?”

Alice gazed at him with dazed, smoldering eyes,her body swaying closer without control.

“It’s the dragon blood—the Green-Ringed Sea Dragon’s blood!”

Black’s voice cracked with panic.

He remembered now—the game writer’s cruel sense of humor.

In the lore, the blood of the Green-Ringed Sea Dragonwas a core ingredient in the infamous aphrodisiac potion:

“One Night of Spring Dreams.”

In other words—a potent lust toxin.

Dragons were inherently lustful creatures—and this breed’s blood carried extreme aphrodisiac properties.

A small amount caused euphoric excitement.

But fresh, undiluted blood, absorbed directly through the skin?

Its effect was catastrophic.

Even alchemists diluted it heavily when brewing the potion.

And Alice?

She’d been drenched in the stuff.

So had he.

“The dragon blood… it’s the key ingredient in ‘One Night of Spring Dreams’…”

Black forced the words out,his voice strained as rational thought melted under the inferno of desire.

Alice, though drowning in lust,still recognized that infamous name—and froze in horror.

As a princess, she knew all too well about this potion—popular (and reviled) among nobles.

She’d even written a scathing article condemning it,published in the imperial newspaper,earning her the ire of many aristocrats.

She never imagined she’d be poisoned by it.

Shame and panic flashed in her hazy red eyes.

“This can’t be…!”

She fought it—but her body betrayed her,writhing with unbearable need.

Her hands flew to her collar—and ripped it open,exposing smooth, pale skin and delicate collarbones.

Damp strands of hair clung to her flushed cheeks—making her look devastatingly beautiful.

“Your Highness! Alice! Snap out of it!”

Black gritted his teeth,pushing against the tidal wave of lust threatening to shatter his mind.

He grabbed her shoulders, trying to hold her back.

“Use your spiritual energy—suppress it! We’ll find a way!”

But Alice had absorbed far more dragon blood than he had.

Her iron will was no match for the toxin flooding her veins.

For a moment, clarity flickered in her eyes—then vanished beneath a fresh wave of desire.

With shocking strength, she slapped his hands away.

“So hot… so hot…”

Her fingers tore at her own clothes—first the outer tunic, then the inner layers.

Soon, in the dim, flickering light,

Alice stood before him in only a thin silk undergarment.

Sweat clung to the fabric,molding it to her body—revealing every curve of her slender waist,the swell of her full, perfect breasts,half-bared and glistening.

Her long legs—smooth as polished jade—led down to delicate ankles,every inch radiating heat, vulnerability, and temptation.

And between them—the shadowed cleft, barely concealed…pulsing with unbearable allure.