[{"data":1,"prerenderedAt":-1},["ShallowReactive",2],{"origin-saya-and-the-dragon":3,"chapter-saya-and-the-dragon-saya-and-the-dragon-chapter-9":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},1705196,2177,"Chapter Zero: How I Met My Dragon","saya-and-the-dragon-chapter-9",9,"\u003Cp>They didn’t even ask if I was a virgin.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Which was rude, frankly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They just saw a pretty face, a scandalous amount of thigh, and decided I was altar material. Strapped me to a stone pylon like a particularly slutty lawn ornament and dumped a handful of gold coins and a note in a bowl beside me.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It read: “O Great Beast. Please accept this humble offering. We’re very sorry about the shepherd.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I squinted at it. “You’d think they’d at least spring for calligraphy.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The wind howled. My nipples stiffened. My ankles were bleeding slightly from the manacles. A goat watched from the bushes, chewing something judgmentally.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>So, yeah. I was having a day.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And I was scared. I’ll admit that now. I hadn’t planned this one. I didn’t con my way into the role. I was just passing through, dusty and hungry and looking for somewhere to sell my last pair of shoes. Next thing I know, I’m trussed up on a promontory like an appetizer.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Then the sky changed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It always does, before they arrive.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The clouds darkened—not storm-dark, but something heavier, older. The air stilled. The goat ran. I considered doing the same but was short on wiggle room.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Then: the roar.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Not a sound, really. A feeling. Like your spine remembered being prey.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He landed with a thunderclap. Wings spread. Scales like tarnished armor, smoke curling from his nostrils like an exasperated teapot. He was beautiful and terrible and clearly overdue for a facial.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I screamed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Because it seemed appropriate.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He ignored me.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Just padded toward the offering bowl, claws clicking on the stone. He sniffed the gold, sneezed, and muttered, “Cheap bastards.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Then he looked at me.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Really looked.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I sucked in a breath and prepared to be eaten, or ravished, or both in a complicated order. I twisted my hips slightly for effect.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But he just tilted his great horned head and said, “Hmph. Human.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Y-yes?” I managed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He snorted again. “Relax. I’m a dragon, not a man. I don’t fuck sacrifices.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I blinked. “You... don’t?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“What would I do with you? I have gout.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Oh.” I paused. “What about devouring?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He made a face. “Do you have any idea how many tavern wenches and runaway thieves these villages offer me? Full of anxiety and mutton fat. Indigestible.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“So you’re… not going to eat me?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I said I’m a dragon, not a human. What use would I have for a loud, sweaty little harlot?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Hey!” I said. “I’m only loud when I want to be.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He squinted. “You smell like sex and broth.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Thank you,” I said instinctively, then frowned. “Wait—”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He turned back to the gold, sighed dramatically, and began sweeping it into a cloth bag with one claw. “Gods, even the coin is greasy. Is that… lard?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I cleared my throat. “So... what happens now?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“You get off that rock and go back to whatever brothel or barn you escaped from. I take the gold. The villagers sleep easy for three weeks. Then I flap off to the next hellhole and repeat the performance.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“You’re just going to leave?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Yes.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“But I—” I scrambled after him, trying to keep up without tripping over the hem of my nearly nonexistent tunic. “You can’t just— I mean, I wasoffered. Like a meal. Or a... consort.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He snorted. “I’m nothungry. And I’m definitely notlonely.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I planted myself in front of his snout before he could unfurl his wings. “Take me with you.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He blinked once. Twice. Then said, with the infinite patience of someone who’s dealt with far too many screaming villagers, “No.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Whynot?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I’m a dragon.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I noticed.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I don’ttravelwith people.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I’m not people,” I said quickly. “I’m...useful.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Useful?” he drawled, like the word had personally offended him. “Can you cook?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Yes!” I lied instantly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He narrowed one golden eye. “Tend wounds?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Absolutely.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Track prey?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Of course.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Speak ancient draconic?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Fluently.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Tell the difference between poison hemlock and parsley?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Obviously.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Recite the lost epics of Bal-Hadra’zhuul?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Backwards.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He gave me a long look.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I smiled. Wide. Innocent. Maybe a little deranged.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He opened his mouth.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Closed it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Then said flatly, “You’re lying.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Not about all of it.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Which parts?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I guess you’ll find out.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He exhaled a puff of smoke straight into my face. I coughed, fanned it away, and kept smiling like a lunatic. He shook his head, muttering something about divine punishments and foolish wenches.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I stepped closer. “Look, I’m not asking for much. Just a ride. A chance.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“To what? Loot, burn, and seduce your way through the countryside?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Yes. Obviously. I thought that was the plan.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He groaned. “Gods, youtalkso much.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“And yet, you haven’t flown away.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Pause.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“You remind me of a magpie I once met,” he muttered. “Pretty, loud, and constantly trying to hump shiny things.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Iamshiny.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He closed his eyes. “Fine. You can walk behind.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“What?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Behind.Farbehind. If I smell perfume or hear singing, I’m dropping you in a swamp.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I grinned. “Youlikeme.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Itolerateyou.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Youbegrudgingly respectme.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He sighed, spreading his wings with the weariness of someone who knew they were making a mistake and doing it anyway. “No touching my hoard. No asking about my age. No humming during flight.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I did a small, triumphant dance.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Oh, and if youevertry to ride me sidesaddle again—”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I won’t!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“—I will land midair and let gravity sort it out.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Understood!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He beat his wings once, testing the air.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Then, without looking at me, he muttered, “Well? Are you coming or not?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And that was the start.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Of something big. Chaotic. Probably doomed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A greedy girl.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A grumpy dragon.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And a sky full of bad decisions.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>So. Apparently, soaproot isn’t food.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Who knew?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The cauldron belched a gout of blackish-grey smoke that smelled like boiled regrets and maybe feet. I stood over it like a war widow, ladle in hand, face streaked with soot, sweat, and something sticky I absolutely didn’t want to identify.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Behind me, I could feel him watching.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I didn’t turn around. I didn’t need to. His silence was loud enough to rattle spoons.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Finally, he spoke.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“You don’t actually know how to cook, do you?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I stiffened. Kept stirring. Something inside the pot made a glorp noise and twitched like it was trying to escape.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“That’s a rude accusation,” I said.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“It’s an observation,” he replied. “You boiled mint leaves and charcoal. And what is that floating on top?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Flavor.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“That’s a fingernail.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I blinked. “Oh.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He exhaled smoke like a disappointed art critic. “You told me you could cook.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I can! This is just a... rustic peasant stew. Very authentic. Earthy.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Earthy,” he repeated, walking around to get a better look. “It’s bubbling like a curse.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I dropped the ladle. It stuck upright in the goo.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He gave me the look. “So. Cooking’s a no.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I patched your tail that one time.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“With a stolen shoelace.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“And love.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“You tied it like a corset and poured wine on the wound.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“It healed, didn’t it?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“It itched for two weeks.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“You’re welcome. Built character.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He glared. “You also said you could hunt.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I can. I’m just more of a... hunter of opportunity. A gatherer of unattended meat.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“You brought me a half-eaten squirrel with rigor mortis.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Still counts as protein.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“And ancient poetry?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“There once was a man from the coast—”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Stop.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I sighed. “Okay. So maybe I exaggerated a tiny bit.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“You lied.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I *embellished.*”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He rubbed his temples. “You contribute nothing except chaos, thievery, and near-fatal dinner attempts.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I also moan convincingly in fear and passion. That counts.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He stared.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“It’s a *skill.*”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He looked back at the bubbling black ooze threatening to climb out of the cauldron. It  was dead. Just a scorched ring of goo clinging to the bottom like a metaphor for my dignity. Smoke still hung in the cave like a bad mood. The Dragon was curled up beside the embers, tail twitching occasionally like he wanted to slap me with it but didn’t want to risk the arthritis.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He yawned. “So,” he said, “what are you exactly? Not a cook. Not a healer. Not a scout. Not a huntress. Not a bard. A barmaid? A whore? Very useful in the wilderness.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Wow,” I said. “Flattery.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Maybe I could sell you to slavers,” he added dryly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Excuse me?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I’d get at least a cauldron out of it.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Rude.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He stretched his wings lazily. “Convince me otherwise. You said you could be useful.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I *am* useful!” I said quickly. “I can cook—”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Proven false.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Tend wounds.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Barely survived your last attempt.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Scout!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“You got lost in a clearing.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Then what *do* you want from me?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Proof you’re worth keeping.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That stung more than I expected.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I crossed my arms. “I *am* worth keeping. I just… need the right context.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He looked at me like a teacher waiting for the wrong answer.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And that’s when it hit me.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Alright,” I said slowly. “You’re a dragon. Big, scary, ancient. You fly in, roar a bit, and everyone loses their minds, right?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Correct.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“And I,” I said, tapping my chest, “am small, tragic, and human. So when I show up at a village, crying about how the Great Dragon burned my home, everyone believes me. They scrape together gold, jewels, virgins, whatever you want—just to make you go away.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He tilted his head. “Go on.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Then you swoop in, take the tribute, look terrifying, and fly off. No fire. No death. Just drama.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“And if they don’t believe you?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Then you actually *do* burn something small. A goat. A haystack. Maybe their pride.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He hummed, eyes narrowing. “And the hero problem?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Oh, I handle heroes,” I said. “Distract them. Confuse them. Get them to drop their guard.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He squinted. “You mean you’ll sleep with them.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“*Distract* them,” I repeated. “Same outcome, fewer stab wounds.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He was quiet for a long time.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Finally, he said, “We split the gold.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Evenly,” I lied.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He gave me a long, smoky stare. “You’re a terrible cook.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I’m an excellent liar.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That earned me the smallest smile—crooked, ancient, and dangerous.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Fine,” he said. “One village. One scam. If it fails, I sell you to slavers.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Deal.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He grunted. “Get some sleep. We plan at dawn.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I curled up beside the fire, smug and exhausted.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Behind me, he muttered, “This will end badly.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But his tone—his tone said *finally, something interesting.*\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I hesitated. “Do you... ever shapeshift? You know, to blend in?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He gave me a tired side-eye. “I can. Into an old man with a bad back and no libido. And before you ask—yes, also gay.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I blinked. “Well that’s disappointing.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He grunted. “For whom?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I looked down at my chains, then up at him. “Will you at least untie me?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He sighed again—like he’d been put on this plane of existence to suffer minor inconveniences—and extended one talon. With a flick, the chains snapped.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I rubbed my wrists. “Thanks. That was chafing.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“You’re welcome. Now go. Before someone thinks I’m recruiting groupies.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I didn’t move.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He watched me for a moment. “Why are you still here?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I tilted my head. “You know,” I said slowly, “you’re the first dragon who’s ever spoken to me.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I should hope so.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“And definitely the first one who didn’t try to eat, burn, or bed me.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He blinked. “You’re disappointed.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Honestly?” I stood, brushing soot off my thighs. “A little.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He stared at me. I stared back.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And then—for reasons still unclear—I smiled.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“So,” I said. “Need a partner?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He narrowed his eyes. “Partner?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I’ve got ideas,” I said. “I can cry on command. Moan like a saint in heat. And I know how to make peasants panic in three languages.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He tilted his head. “You’re shameless.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“And flexible,” I added helpfully.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He was silent for a long moment. Then, with a low huff of smoke, he muttered, “Get on.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“On what?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“My back.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I grinned. “Oh, darling. You do like me.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Not even a little.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Liar.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He crouched, wings flexing.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And that, children, is how I went from nearly-sacrificed tramp to business partner of the most neurotic, arthritic, treasure-hoarding lizard west of the Iron Hills.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>You know what they say.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>If you can’t beat the dragon...\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Rob villages with him.\u003C\u002Fp>",2030,"2026-06-06T14:39:25.900Z",1,"novelbin.me","33a553d2bc66ce336720a14e485f1adac0fd82e58d7fe4d204c90614e73775d8","saya-and-the-dragon-chapter-10","saya-and-the-dragon-chapter-8",228,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Fsaya-and-the-dragon-cover.jpg"]