[{"data":1,"prerenderedAt":-1},["ShallowReactive",2],{"origin-saya-and-the-dragon":3,"chapter-saya-and-the-dragon-saya-and-the-dragon-chapter-10":6},{"origin":4,"title":5},"english","Saya and the Dragon",{"chapter":7,"nextChapterSlug":19,"prevChapterSlug":20,"totalChapters":21,"novelImage":22},{"id":8,"novel_id":9,"title":10,"slug":11,"index":12,"content":13,"wordcount":14,"created_at":15,"updated_at":15,"volume":16,"translator":17,"content_hash":18},1705197,2177,"Chapter Nine: Sheep Offering","saya-and-the-dragon-chapter-10",10,"\u003Cp>They tied me to a pillar this time.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A big, ugly, grey thing — not even carved, just a chunk of stone pretending to be architecture. There was a bronze hoop bolted into the top, green with rust and optimism. My wrists were tied together and looped through it, so I had to stand on my toes to keep from hanging by my shoulders. It was undignified.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And hot.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The noon sun beat down like a personal insult, turning the whole hilltop into a frying pan. My hair stuck to the back of my neck, sweat rolled between my shoulder blades, and the ropes itched.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Around me shuffled the rest of the “offering.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A flock of sheep.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Twelve of them. Fat, glossy, self-satisfied. Every one wearing a red ribbon around its neck like it had just won a prize for stupidity. They bleated. They farted. They stared at me with the dumb confidence of creatures that believed in divine justice.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Don’t look at me,” I muttered. “We’re in this together.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>One of them stepped forward and started sniffing my sandal. Then it sneezed. Wetly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Fantastic.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>There was supposed to be gold. That was the deal. A chest of coins, maybe a few trinkets, something shiny enough to distract him from the gout and the existential dread. But no — these villagers decided that *sheep* counted as wealth. “The dragon will appreciate good meat,” they said.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He wouldn’t.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He was going to be *furious.*\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I twisted a little against the ropes, feeling them bite into my wrists. The pillar was rough, scraped my back whenever I moved. Standing on tiptoe made my calves cramp. The sandals didn’t help much — thin leather, already slick with sweat and sheep filth.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This was officially the least glamorous sacrifice of my career.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I took in the scene again: dry grass, a few withered garlands, a scattering of bones from the last offering (probably goats), and me — human centerpiece, sweating and cursing.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Somewhere down in the valley, the villagers were already hiding in their huts. The priest had mumbled a prayer, rung a bell, and bolted. They didn’t even bother to wait for the dragon. Cowards.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The wind shifted. The smell hit harder. I gagged.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Gods above,” I whispered, “if you’re listening, I promise to give up lying. For an hour. Maybe.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A sheep answered with a mournful *baaa*. Another one pooped right beside my foot. Steam rose.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Of course,” I sighed. “Why wouldn’t you.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The sky above was empty — bright, wide, and horribly quiet.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He was late.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Which meant he’d noticed the problem.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Which meant he was circling somewhere, counting sheep and muttering about my competence.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Oh, he’s going to be unbearable,” I groaned, tugging uselessly at the rope. “I can hear it already. *‘Saya, gold means gold.’* *‘Do you even read the briefings I give you?’*”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A bell clinked as one of the sheep wandered too close. I nudged it away with my knee. It blinked at me, chewed, and farted again.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I closed my eyes. “If he doesn’t kill me, I might kill myself.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Another pause.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Distant wind. The faint hum of heat.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Then—somewhere far above—a sound like air folding in on itself.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A ripple of pressure.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He was coming.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I could feel it in the soles of my feet, through the stone, through the air. That slow, inevitable *thrum* of wings.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I looked up at the sky, swallowed, and muttered the only prayer I ever knew:  “Please, old man. Don’t make this worse than it already is.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The air cracked with that familiar pressure—like the sky itself was exhaling after holding its breath too long.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A shadow rolled over the hilltop, stretching across the grass, the sheep, and me. The bells around their necks jingled in terrified unison. I didn’t look up. I didn’t have to. The ground trembled, a rush of wind hit my face, and then came the *whump*—wings folding, dust billowing, the faint scent of ozone and ego.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He’d arrived.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I opened my mouth before he even spoke.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Please please please *don’t get mad*,” I blurted. “I know what you’re thinking. But it’s not my fault. The village is—how shall we say—financially challenged. And, um, a little weird. They’re very into animal husbandry. Like, *deeply*. Disturbingly. The gold thing wasn’t happening.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Silence.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I risked a glance up.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He was staring at me—massive, gleaming, smoke curling lazily from his nostrils. His eyes slid past me to the flock, then back again. One long exhale.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Then, to my complete shock, he just… shrugged.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Fine.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Fine?” I echoed, blinking. “That’s it? Not even a sigh? No lecture about professionalism?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He padded closer, tail sweeping dust, wings rustling like tired curtains. “Saya, I’ve been in this business longer than most gods have been taking worshippers. I’ve learned to manage my expectations.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I blinked again. “So… you’re not mad?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He reached up with one claw, sliced through the rope above my wrists, and stepped back.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The rope fell. I gasped, rubbing my wrists. “You’re really not mad?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He gave me a weary look. “You think this is the first time I’ve been offered livestock? There was once a town that sent me nothing but turnips and a priest with gout. This is practically luxury.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He stretched his wings, joints popping like distant thunder. “At least I’m going to feast on mutton tonight.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I gawked. “You’re actually going to *eat* them?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He tilted his head. “What else would I do with them? Enroll them in poetry lessons?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The nearest sheep bleated nervously.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He sighed. “Turn around, Saya.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“What?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Turn. Around.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I hesitated. “You’re not going to make a spectacle of it, are you?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He growled softly. “Saya.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I turned. Slowly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The ropes scratched against my wrists as I crossed my arms and faced the pillar, staring at the rough stone. Behind me came the shuffle of hooves, the sharp inhale of a dragon’s breath, and then—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>*Crunch.*\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A wet, tearing sound.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Another.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The bells jangled wildly for a few seconds, then went still.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I closed my eyes. “Oh gods.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Another crunch. A slurp. A contented exhale.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Are you… enjoying yourself?” I asked weakly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Mmh,” he rumbled between bites. “Could use salt.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I grimaced. “That’s disgusting.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“That’s dinner.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The noises went on—chewing, bone-snapping, the occasional appreciative grunt.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>When it finally stopped, I heard him lick his teeth with an audible *shhhlk* that made my spine crawl.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Alright,” he said at last, voice casual. “You can turn around now.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I did.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The ground was… well. Let’s say *decorated.*\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He was licking his claws daintily, like a man cleaning wine stains off his cufflinks.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I stared at the carnage, then at him. “You’re unbelievable.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He arched a brow ridge. “What? Waste not, want not.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I sighed, rubbing my temples. “I can’t believe I tied myself to a pillar for a flock of sheep.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He smirked. “You’ve done worse for less.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I opened my mouth to argue, then closed it. “…Fair.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He snorted smoke that smelled faintly of roast. “Come on. Let’s go before they send me a thank-you basket.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And just like that, he lumbered toward the horizon, leaving me to step around what used to be twelve tributes and the shreds of my dignity.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Next time,” I muttered, trailing after him, “I’m negotiating the payment *myself.*”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Behind us, the bronze hoop glinted in the sun, still swinging gently in the wind.\u003C\u002Fp>",1227,"2026-06-06T14:39:25.900Z",1,"novelbin.me","924da576db1c4216c9f670fad64ea39ec719c282b79ca87935b4d42f7a7484e1","saya-and-the-dragon-chapter-11","saya-and-the-dragon-chapter-9",228,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Fsaya-and-the-dragon-cover.jpg"]