Dragon King's Harem Chapter 539. Good or Bad?
Dragon King's Harem Chapter 539. Good or Bad?
We walked slowly through the marketplace after that, sampling different things.
Sunbloom fritters shaped like tiny roses.
Dewdrop jellies that shimmered translucent blue and tasted faintly of citrus and mint.
Petal wraps filled with herb-glazed root vegetables that even I admitted were decent.
The town’s tension began to ease slightly as they saw us simply… eating.
Just existing.
I felt it.
The shift.
That mattered.
A dragon king in a border town, casually buying pastries, told a story no proclamation ever could.
Still.
Underneath the sweetness and soft laughter, my mind never fully turned off.
I noticed the dwarven traders watching carefully from a distance.
Not hostile.
Curious.
Calculating.
Word would reach dwarven territory before we did.
Argod stopped in fairy land. Argod brought a small escort of a dwarven lady and the exiled nymph princess. Argod bought flower cakes.
Information moved fast.
I wondered how the nymph queen and the dwarven king would interpret that.
Careless?
Confident?
Provocative?
I bit into another blossom.
Marissa walked closer to me as we moved past a stall selling luminous vine tea.
She smiled faintly.
But her hand brushed mine lightly.
‘Thank you,’ it seemed to say. ‘For letting us breathe.’
I did not squeeze back.
But I did not pull away either.
Behind us, Al purchased an entire box of iridescent sugar petals “for research.”
Sela was asking detailed questions about edible pollen crystallization techniques.
Evelina was negotiating fairly with vendors, so no one felt pressured or exploited.
And I was pretending not to hear it.
The whispers.
At first it was just a soft ripple under the normal market noise. The clink of coins. The rustle of paper wrappings. The hum of fairy wings.
Then the ripple sharpened.
“It’s the Dragon King.”
“He’s the one who saved one of our tribe from the lizard tribe.”
“I heard he revived the dead.”
“That’s impossible.”
“No, no, he and his wife, the fox princess, did something with soul-binding technique.”
“That’s forbidden magic.”
“I heard he took over the orcs and made the minotaurs bow in one war.”
“I heard he killed the orc king for his first wife.”
“Really? He doesn’t look that intimidating.”
“He married the snow elf queen.”
“That’s impossible. No two leaders of tribes marry each other.”
I kept walking.
Didn’t turn my head.
Didn’t react.
But I heard every word.
It’s funny how reputation travels faster than wings.
Some of it was true.
Some of it was twisted.
Some of it was pure imagination stitched together by bored merchants and dramatic storytellers.
Revived the dead.
If only they knew it was just a gamble.
Made minotaurs bow in one war.
As if wars were that simple.
Killed the orc king.
I did do it for Evelina, but mostly… for Draconis.
And the snow elf marriage?
That one was real. And it still confused half the continent.
Al slid back into step beside me, a small smirk playing on his lips as he tucked the box of sugar petals under his arm.
“You are very famous, Your Majesty,” he murmured.
“I’ve noticed.”
“Good or bad?”
I shrugged slightly. “Depends on who’s telling the story.”
He chuckled. “Legends are rarely accurate.”
“They’re rarely kind either.”
We passed a stall selling carved wooden trinkets shaped like miniature wings. The vendor bowed slightly but didn’t approach. Respectful distance.
The whispers continued behind us.
“Do you think he’ll burn the dwarves?”
“Maybe he’s here to spy.”
“He looks… calm.”
“That’s worse.”
I felt something tighten faintly in my chest.
Not anger.
Not pride.
Just awareness.
This is what being visible meant.
You become an idea before you are a person.
Before I could spiral too far into that thought, something small tugged at the hem of my coat.
I looked down.
A fairy child stood there.
No taller than my waist. Hair pale green. Tiny translucent wings fluttering nervously behind him.
He held out a small wrapped bundle with both hands.
“For you,” he said, voice barely louder than a whisper.
The entire street seemed to hold its breath.
I knelt slightly to meet his height.
“Is that so?” I asked gently.
He nodded quickly. “You saved a fairy. From the lizard tribe.”
I reached for the bundle but paused.
Instinct.
‘Analyze.’
The skill activated quietly, mana flowing through my palm in a subtle pulse. Threads of energy traced across the wrapping, scanning for toxins, curses, enchantments.
Clean.
Just flour. Sugar. A hint of nectar mana.
Safe.
I accepted it.
“Thank you,” I said.
The child’s eyes widened slightly at my voice up close.
Then he smiled.
A huge, bright, unfiltered smile.
“You’re welcome!”
And that was it.
That single exchange.
It triggered everything.
Another vendor stepped forward hesitantly, holding out a jar. “For your soldiers,” she said.
A dwarven trader approached with a small leather pouch. “Dried stonefruit. Good for long travel.”
Someone else handed Evelina a bundle of herb sachets.
Marissa received a bottle of floral tonic.
Sela was suddenly holding two extra pastry boxes she didn’t remember agreeing to buy.
I blinked.
Then another item was pressed into my hands.
Then another.
Then another.
“Please accept this.”
“For protection.”
“For your journey.”
“For thanks.”
“For luck.”
Within seconds, my arms were full.
Food wrapped in paper. Small carved wooden tokens. Tiny potion vials. Flower crowns that someone tried to put on my horns and thought better of it halfway through.
Al laughed openly now. “This is delightful.”
“Take it,” I muttered under my breath.
He took a few items from my overloaded arms without complaint.
Evelina stepped in smoothly, accepting bundles and thanking each person with soft, composed grace.
Marissa was smiling in a way I hadn’t seen in days.
Not guarded.
Not tense.
Just… moved.
Sela looked overwhelmed but proud at the same time.
I tried to keep track of who gave what.
It became impossible quickly.
My hands weren’t enough.
At one point someone handed me a carved figurine of a dragon mid-flight.
“Looks like you,” the old fairy said shyly.
“It has only one horn,” I replied automatically.
She blinked. “Oh.”
“I’m joking.”
She laughed nervously.
More people approached.
Some offered drinks.
Some small charms.
One elderly dwarf pressed a flask into my hand and said, “For courage. Or boredom. Whichever comes first.”
Al snorted.