Chapter 368

Watching Bell Cranel disappear into the distance, Draco couldn’t help but chuckle.

The sound was a low rumble, almost a purr, a strange counterpoint to the city’s usual afternoon din.

Draco, back in Orario after five long years, found the timing of this particular encounter to be an almost absurd coincidence.

Hours prior, upon his return to the city of Orario, Draco had briefly pondered how far the timeline of canon events had unfolded during his absence.

He had expected to spend days, perhaps weeks, discerning the current state of affairs.

But then, Bell, the innocent-faced boy, had suddenly appeared.

The sight, grim yet undeniably iconic, had provided an immediate, visceral answer.

Bell’s adrenaline-fueled flight could only mean one thing: the first Minotaur encounter.

And the Minotaur, in turn, could only mean Ais Wallenstein.

This, then, was the pivotal moment, the precise turning point that sparked the naive adventurer’s meteoric rise.

Bell meeting Ais on this very day was what had triggered his change, set him on a path to defy expectations and shake the foundations of Orario.

And Draco, after half a decade away, found himself a silent, unwitting witness to its inception.

‘Is it truly coincidence?’ Draco mused, a flicker of something beyond simple curiosity in his ruby-red eyes.

Was his return truly a random event, or was he, too, merely a piece on a grander chessboard, arriving precisely when fate deemed it necessary?

He had spent those five years far from the bustling heart of civilization, and yet, here he was, inadvertently intersecting with the very genesis of a legend.

The world, it seemed, still held a strange gravitational pull for him, even when he tried to chart his own course.

The thought raised a shiver of unease, a subtle whisper that perhaps true freedom was an illusion.

His thoughts, however, were abruptly interrupted by a light jerk on his arm.

Looking down, he saw Bahamut, her silver hair dancing like moonlight caught in a spider web.

She wore a pouty expression, her silver eyes narrowed slightly as she glared up at him.

He had, in his momentary reverie, cut short their conversation, right in the middle of a rather important part…..important, at least, to Bahamut in that precise moment.

Seeing her like this, a goddess reduced to an adorable, if slightly exasperated, grumble, was a rather cute sight from his perspective.

“Sorry,” Draco apologized, warmth seeping into his voice.

He tightened his grip on their intertwined fingers, a silent reassurance.

“Got a bit distracted by that boy earlier.”

Bahamut sighed, the sound more a ripple of air than an actual complaint.

“Well, I can’t entirely blame you,” she replied, her gaze drifting in the direction Bell had vanished.

“Hestia’s kid does seem to be quite an oddball. Running around covered in monster blood like that.”

Draco’s brow furrowed.

“You know him?” he asked, a touch of genuine curiosity coloring his tone.

He hadn’t expected her to, given how recently Bell had arrived in Orario.

“Not really, not personally,” Bahamut clarified, a fond expression softening her features.

“I only know of his description so vividly because Hestia was so persistent when she came to brag to me and Hephaestus about having finally made a Familia. Even though she’s been freeloading for quite a while, living off our generosity, getting even one member was a monumental achievement for her.”

Her voice held a playful affection, a hint of the long history between them.

‘She really likes Hestia, huh,’ Draco mused, nodding his head thoughtfully.

“Ah, Hestia is a friend from Heaven,” Bahamut suddenly exclaimed.

She realized Draco probably wouldn’t have known who Hestia was, having been away for five years.

“She descended around six months ago.”

“I see,” Draco muttered, the words low and thoughtful.

His obsidian tail, flicked curiously, a subtle movement that startled a few passing civilians who quickly averted their eyes.

“Anyway,” Draco continued, turning his full attention back to her, a radiant smile touching his lips.

“Shall we continue on our way home? I’ve got to make some preparations for our date.”

He pulled her closer, the subtle scent of her skin, filling his senses.

Bahamut’s only reply was a soft “Hmm,” as she leaned slightly against his towering frame.

And with light steps, Draco and Bahamut returned to the grand, imposing structure that was the Bahamut Familia home.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………..

Now, back in his spacious office on the third floor, Draco’s face held a contemplative expression, the evening light casting long shadows across his desk.

The earlier musings about destiny and coincidence had given way to a more immediate, albeit equally pressing, concern: the upcoming date with Bahamut.

With such short notice….mere hours, really…….to make plans, he had to get creative.

His first instinct, a romantic classic, had been to find a good restaurant.

But the thought quickly dissolved into a frown.

Having been absent for half a decade, many of the places he knew, the quiet, elegant eateries tucked away in less-trafficked corners, had either vanished, rebranded, or simply changed beyond recognition.

Orario, after all, was a city that catered predominantly to the adventurer lifestyle.

Restaurants that offered a truly refined dining experience were a rare breed, often struggling to find an audience.

There were also very few nobles who bothered visiting Orario, so the demand for high-end dining was perpetually low.

Finding a decent, let alone exceptional, restaurant on such short notice was utterly out of the question.

Contemplating a while longer, his quill tapping rhythmically and almost hypnotically on a parchment, a counterpoint to the ticking clock, Draco considered the large, sprawling garden at the back of the manor.

It was an exquisite space, meticulously maintained.

A perfect setting, in theory.

However, it was far too open.

Freya and Aasterinian, they could easily spy.

And considering what he intended to do to Bahamut later in the evening, the intimacy he envisioned, it would be rather embarrassing, perhaps even mortifying, to be caught in the act. The thought alone sent a shiver of discomfort down his spine.

Their private moments were theirs, not a spectacle for other gods.

So, in the end, Draco decided on a different, more meaningful location: the meadow far outside the city walls.

It was the very same meadow where they had shared their first date, five years ago, under a sky much like the one promised for tonight.

It was also the place where they had made that promise.

In a way, it was kind of symbolic, bringing their journey full circle.

The perfect blend of nostalgia and anticipation.

With the venue finally decided, a heavy weight lifted from his shoulders, Draco soon moved on to other logistical worries: the food, the drinks, the equipment necessary to transform a simple meadow into a magical haven.

Luckily, the equipment he had used from their initial date had been carefully stored in the basement storage, preserved as if waiting for this very night.

With most of the things sorted out, a clear plan now laid out in his mind, Draco immediately got to work.

The hours flew by, a blur of activity driven by anticipation and affection.

And in what felt like the blink of an eye, night had arrived.

The sun had long since set, its fiery embrace yielding to the cool, calming dominion of the silver moon and the infinite tapestry of starry skies.

The heavens held no speck of cloud, a vast, inky expanse dotted with diamond-like celestial bodies, and to further compound its beauty, it was a full moon, casting a luminous, otherworldly glow upon the world below.

At the front of the Bahamut manor’s front door, Draco stood, a nervous energy surrounding him. He stood tall, an imposing figure even in repose, dressed in a rather dashing navy shirt and impeccably tailored pants.

The deep, rich colour of his attire complimented his obsidian-black scales, which gleamed subtly under the moonlight, and contrasted beautifully with his long, flowing silver hair, which brushed his shoulders.

His rough, horns, usually left in their natural state, had been lightly polished with a fine oil, giving them a glossy sheen that caught and reflected the moonlight, adding an extra touch of refined savagery to his appearance.

Muscles bulging subtly underneath his clothing, were held in check, waiting in anticipation for his goddess’s arrival.

‘Phew, calm down… everything will be cool,’ Draco repeated internally, a mantra against the rising tide of his own excitement.

He had spent five years apart from her, five years dreaming of this closeness, this intimacy.

With nothing physically restraining him from devouring his goddess, from giving in to the raw, primal urges that her very presence ignited within him, Draco found himself feeling like a loose canon.

He didn’t want to ruin this, their long-awaited reunion, this carefully planned evening, due to a lack of self-restraint.

Thump. Thump.

His heart hammered against his ribs, beating like a drum, a powerful, resonant sound that seemed to echo in the sudden quiet of the night.

He could hear faint footsteps approaching the door from within the manor, light yet firm, growing steadily louder.

Creak…

With a small, almost imperceptible squeak, the massive door finally began to open, slowly, ceremoniously, revealing Bahamut in all her charm, a vision that momentarily stole Draco’s breath.

Bahamut was dressed in a flowing black gown, a garment that seemed to absorb the ambient light yet radiated an inner luminescence.

It was a breathtaking contrast against the cascade of her silver hair, which shimmered like spun moonlight, and the subtle glint of her own magnificent horns and scales.

Her silver eyes, held a softer, more dreamlike quality tonight, reflecting the full moon in their depths.

The glow of the full moon, pure and untainted, compounded the effect, transforming her into a breathtaking sight.

Draco found himself utterly at a loss for words, his prepared compliments, his witty remarks, all dissolved into the ether.

His ruby-red eyes, were fixed solely on his goddess’s form, drinking in every exquisite detail. The silence stretched long, seeming to extend into an eternity, filled only by the frantic beat of Draco’s own heart, until Bahamut, with a soft smile, broke the spell.

“Well,” she asked, her voice a melodious whisper that snapped Draco from his reverie, “How do I look?”

“You look most stunningly beautiful,” Draco replied, the words a genuine outpouring of adoration, his smile spreading from ear to ear, unable to contain his delight.

“More beautiful than any starry night, more radiant than the brightest dawn.”

Bahamut blushed, a delicate flush that warmed her silver scales, and her tail, lashed out playfully in joy at his heartfelt compliment.

Stretching out a hand, his palm open and inviting, Draco offered to walk her down the few steps of the porch.

Her shoes, he noticed, were rather high, elegant but undoubtedly uncomfortable.

He couldn’t bring himself to voice the thought, knowing full well the reason.

‘She had probably worn such high heels due to my height,’ Draco thought, a surge of tenderness washing over him.

Indeed, that was the case.

Bahamut, for all her divine power, was quite petite in size, slender and graceful, whereas Draco was a hulking mass, easily over two and a half meters tall.

The heels were a subtle attempt to bridge their physical disparity, a thoughtful gesture that touched him deeply.

“My lady,” Draco said, his voice as light and gentle as the evening air.

Understanding his intention, Bahamut gracefully placed her hand in his, her fingers intertwining with his powerful digits, and together they descended the steps.

Upon reaching the bottom, a subtle shift occurred.

Draco’s obsidian scales morphed, taking on a verdant, shimmering green hue, and a translucent ball of swirling wind enveloped them both, lifting them gently from the ground.

Draco had opted for his wind spirit transformation ability rather than simply flying with his powerful, leathery wings.

They were dressed far too finely for such a crude, potentially disheveling ride.

Additionally, his current clothing was meticulously tailored, leaving no space for his wings to sprout; any attempt would only rip the expensive fabric of his shirt apart, and the same was true for Bahamut’s elegant gown.

This method was far more refined.

Carried by the gentle, silent current of wind, like a celestial carriage, Draco and Bahamut soon arrived at their destination.

In the middle of a vast, tranquil meadow, a fair distance from the bustling lights of Orario, a large, half-open tent stood, its pristine canvas glowing softly.

Surrounding it, delicate magic lamps hung suspended on poles, casting a warm, inviting light that danced on the tall grass.

Within its half-open flaps, a scene of intimate comfort awaited: a low, short table laden with an array of delectable dishes and fine drinks, a plush fur bedding spread out for ultimate relaxation, and a scattering of hand-picked decorations that spoke of careful thought and affection.

The moonlight bathed the entire meadow in its silver glow, transforming the ordinary into something magical.

Fireflies, like tiny, living stars, roamed freely, their intermittent flashes adding to the enchantment.

Crickets sang their ancient, unbroken chorus, a natural symphony, and a cool, gentle breeze rustled through the tall grass, carrying with it the fresh scent of wild herbs and distant earth.

It was a familiar setting, one that, with every detail, every scent, every sound, made Bahamut recall the cherished memories of their past date.

Leading her to the elegantly set table, they both took their seats, facing each other, their eyes reflecting their nervousness.

And with a shared smile, their long-awaited date finally took off, a new chapter beginning under the benevolent gaze of the full moon.

A/N: Just a few more slice of life chapters, so mc reconnects with the main cast, then I will resume canon progression.

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