The cobalt village did not look like anything Itsuki had imagined a “monster settlement” to be.

  There were no crude pits or dark caves filled with bones. Instead, the forest itself seemed shaped around them—wide clearings where enormous trees had been encouraged to grow apart rather than cut down, roots woven into natural walkways. Nests of bark, stone, and bone circled massive central dens, their entrances marked with hanging charms made from teeth, crystal shards, and dyed feathers that clicked softly in the breeze.

  And everywhere… there was food.

  Itsuki’s stomach twisted painfully as the scents hit him all at once.

  Roasted game, thick and savory. Berries crushed into bright pastes. Large slabs of fish laid over heated stone. Warm, bread-like loaves that steamed faintly in the cold air drifting down from the distant frost mountains.

  He hadn’t realized how hungry he was until that moment.

  The cobalts moved differently here—less like hunting beasts and more like people. Tails swayed loosely. Ears flicked with emotion. Laughter rumbled low as food was shared and traded freely. Smaller cobalts peeked from behind larger bodies, eyes bright with curiosity as they stared at the small human walking beside the massive dragon.

  Destro had shrunk again, his form still towering but no longer overwhelming. Even so, every cobalt who passed lowered their head or averted their gaze.

  At the heart of the village waited their chief.

  He was enormous for a cobalt, even among his kind—broad-shouldered and scarred, his deep blue hide marked with streaks of white across his arms and chest like frostbite that never healed. One horn was cracked near the base, the wound old and permanent. Unlike the others, he wore metal: rough plates hammered into armor and etched with runes that glowed faintly with mana. An orange aura surrounding him, a little stronger than the others.

  When he smiled, it was wide and easy.

  “So,” the chief rumbled, voice deep with amusement, “this is the one who shook the forest.”

  Itsuki stiffened. “I— I didn’t mean to—”

  The chief laughed, loud and booming, cutting him off without malice. “Relax, little one. If every burst of power was an insult, this forest would be ash by now.”

  He turned and barked an order, sharp and absolute.

  “Feast. Now. Everything.”

  The village moved instantly.

  Food was brought forward in great wooden bowls and on wide stones, pushed toward Itsuki without hesitation. A young cobalt—orange-furred, eyes bright—carefully nudged a bowl closer with his snout, tail wagging nervously.

  Itsuki froze.

  In their culture, sharing food is trust, Destro’s voice brushed his mind, calm and certain. Refusing would wound them.

  “You… you can talk in my head?” Itsuki whispered as he sat.

  Of course, Destro replied smugly. We are connected, after all.

  Itsuki hesitated, then took a bite.

  Warmth spread through him immediately—not just physical, but something deeper, comforting. Around him, the cobalts settled as well, eating alongside him rather than apart. Their posture relaxed. Some leaned closer, openly curious, watching his reactions with interest rather than suspicion.

  The chief observed it all with sharp, knowing eyes.

  “Earlier,” he said at last, his tone shifting, “a surge of power swept through the forest. Ancient. Territorial.”

  Itsuki’s hands tightened around the bowl.

  “It told us,” the chief continued evenly, “that this land had been claimed.”

  The hunting leader dropped to one knee again, others following. “We ask permission.”

  Itsuki blinked. “P-permission for what?”

  The chief lowered himself until his massive frame was level with Itsuki’s seated height. His voice softened, but the weight behind it did not.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  “To remain here. To live. To raise our young in these lands.”

  “If you allow it,” the hunting leader added, voice tight with restraint, “we will offer everything we have. Food. Information. Warriors. Our lives, if needed. In return for protection.”

  Itsuki’s mind went blank.

  “I— I don’t— I’m not—”

  Breathe, Destro murmured. They are not demanding. They are offering stability. Your leaking aura claimed this territory whether you wished it or not. This is the law of the forest.

  But I’m not strong enough, Itsuki thought desperately.

  Strength is not only force, Destro replied. And you need allies. This benefits you both.

  The chief waited without pressing, arms folded, tail flicking once against the earth.

  Itsuki swallowed. “If… if we stay,” he said slowly, choosing each word with care, “I want to understand this forest. Where danger is. Where others live. And… I don’t want anyone fighting in my name unless it’s truly necessary.”

  The chief’s grin sharpened. “A reasonable ruler.”

  “I’m not a—” Itsuki stopped, sighed, then nodded. “Just… yes. You can stay.”

  A deep, unified sound rippled through the gathered cobalts—cheers, relieved exhales, tails thumping the ground.

  “Then we will speak,” the chief said.

  He gestured, scratching a rough map into the dirt with a claw.

  “We are here. Deep forest. Frost mountains to the north. Elves east in the sunlit woods. Orc tribes roam the southern plains. Lizardfolk dwell west in the wetlands. Those are the major tribes we know of, but there are many more roaming through the woods. Though the closest settlement…”

  His claw dragged southward. “Is here—catfolk. River disputes. Old grudges.”

  Before he could continue, the chief paused and turned his full attention back to Itsuki.

  “You should know,” the chief said, his voice lowering, “that if my son or any of my warriors have shown you disrespect, it was not intended.”

  The orange?furred hunting leader stiffened, then bowed deeply.

  “We believed you to be a ruler,” the chief continued, unashamed. “Wise. Powerful. One who commands an ancient dragon does not walk without authority.”

  Itsuki flushed. “I’m… not wise. Or powerful. I just—”

  You are both, Destro said calmly within his mind. They judge by results, not age.

  The chief inclined his head. “Still, intent matters. If offense was given, I apologize as their leader.”

  Itsuki hesitated, then shook his head quickly. “No, I wasn’t offended. I just didn’t understand.”

  He took a breath, feeling the weight of every gaze on him.

  “I… I’ll stay,” Itsuki said more firmly. “If you’ll have me, I’ll be your leader. Not to rule you—but to protect this place.”

  The clearing went utterly still.

  Then the cobalts knelt.

  A deep, reverent hush settled over the village as the chief bowed his head fully for the first time.

  “Then this land recognizes you,” he said. “As our master.”

  Itsuki winced at the word but nodded anyway.

  “There is something else,” he added quickly, gesturing toward Destro. “Destro will be staying too. We’re bound by a pact.”

  Murmurs erupted.

  “A pact?”

  “With an ancient?”

  “You named him?”

  Destro smiled lazily, eyes gleaming. “I was honored,” he said. “Few survive such a thing.”

  The chief stared at him for a long moment, then let out a low, incredulous laugh.

  “To name an ancient dragon…” he said. “No wonder the forest trembled.”

  “What are your names?” Itsuki asked, the question slipping out before he could second?guess it.

  The chief blinked, then let out a quiet huff of amusement.

  “You honor us,” he said, inclining his head, “but we do not have names. Only titles, earned through deed and strength.”

  Itsuki’s fingers curled at his sides. He hadn’t realized how much he’d expected that answer.

  He swallowed, then lifted his gaze, meeting the chief’s eyes despite the weight pressing down on him.

  “If you’re willing,” Itsuki said, voice softer now, steadier, “I can give you names. Proper ones. Names that mean you’re more than just what you fight or hunt. Not just titles.”

  The clearing went utterly still.

  Even the forest seemed to pause, leaves held mid?rustle.

  Several cobalts exchanged uncertain glances. Others stared at Itsuki with open shock, tails frozen in place. The chief did not move at all.

  Before anyone could answer, a cobalt warrior burst into the clearing, breath sharp, posture rigid.

  “Chief,” he reported urgently, bowing low. “A catfolk party has been sighted near the outer trees. Armed.”

  The village stilled again—this time with tension rather than awe.

  Itsuki’s heart hammered painfully in his chest.

  This, Destro said quietly within his mind, is why they sought protection.

  The chief straightened to his full height, scars catching the light as his expression hardened.

  “It seems,” he said slowly, eyes gleaming, “that your answer will not wait.”