Dragon King's Harem Chapter 540. Monster or Savior?

Dragon King's Harem Chapter 540. Monster or Savior?

The crowd swelled briefly around us.

Not aggressive.

Not chaotic.

Just… eager.

Grateful.

Curious.

It felt strange.

Being the center of something that wasn’t fear.

When the last of the gifts were finally give, the crowd slowly dispersed.

Murmurs softened.

Market noise returned to normal.

But I stood there for a moment, arms full.

The weight of pastries and trinkets oddly heavier than armor.

I had trouble moving.

Not physically.

Emotionally.

I hadn’t come here for this.

I came for strategy.

For positioning.

For chess.

And here I was, nearly buried in flower-shaped gratitude.

Al leaned closer again. “You look like you’ve been ambushed by affection,” he observed.

“Worse than arrows,” I muttered.

He grinned.

I shifted the items in my arms, trying to balance everything without dropping a jar of honey tonic.

It was ridiculous.

A dragon king stuck because civilians kept giving him snacks.

Behind the humor though, something lingered.

Those whispers earlier.

Some painted me as monster.

Some painted me as savior.

Neither version was entirely true.

But the child’s smile?

That was real.

And that made everything heavier.

Because if I miscalculated at that wedding.

If politics turned ugly.

If war spread again.

It wouldn’t just be kings and queens paying the price.

It would be people like him.

People who offered pastries because they believed in something.

I didn’t say that out loud.

I just adjusted my grip on the carved dragon figurine and started walking again.

“Next time,” I said quietly to Al, “you handle the gratitude.”

He looked horrified. “Absolutely not.”

Marissa laughed softly beside me.

Sela hugged two pastry boxes to her chest protectively.

Evelina’s shoulder brushed mine lightly as we walked.

And for a brief moment, I felt less like a war piece on a board and more like something else entirely.

Still dangerous. Still strategic. But human enough to be handed flowers.

And that might be the most terrifying reputation of all.

Because monsters are easy.

Saviors are complicated.

I stood there another second too long, arms overloaded with pastry boxes, carved charms, and jars of honeyed something that smelled aggressively floral. The crowd had mostly dispersed, but a few people were still watching from a safe distance, whispering excitedly about how they’d just fed a dragon king like I was some oversized pet.

This was getting inefficient.

I exhaled slowly and snapped my fingers.

Mana answered instantly.

A soft pulse rippled outward from my hand, and every single item in my arms lifted gently into the air. The wooden figurine. The pastry boxes. The potions. The wrapped bundles. All of it floated neatly around me in a controlled orbit.

Gasps.

Of course.

Fairy children pointed.

A dwarven merchant muttered something about overcompensation.

Al clapped once slowly. “Ah. Dramatic minimalism. I approve.”

“It’s practical,” I said.

“It is extra,” he corrected.

The floating gifts hovered obediently at shoulder height behind me like a parade of gratitude refusing to walk.

But it worked.

No one approached anymore.

Apparently telekinetically orbiting presents signaled that the dragon king was at capacity.

I turned toward my wives.

“I guess we should head back now,” I said casually. “Share this with the soldiers before it melts, ferments, or turns sentient.”

Evelina nodded immediately. “Agreed. They will be happy.”

Sela adjusted the two pastry boxes she had already claimed and narrowed her eyes slightly. “But Sela will keep some.”

Marissa laughed softly. “I will confiscate at least one of those nectar jars for later.”

“Inventory them first,” Al muttered automatically.

I started walking back toward the clearing.

The floating gifts followed smoothly behind me like obedient little spirits.

The crowd parted again, but this time it wasn’t tense.

It was entertained.

I could hear faint giggles behind me.

“Look, they’re flying!”

“Is that how dragons shop?”

I almost turned around to answer that one.

Almost.

The walk back to the riverbank felt shorter.

Maybe because I wasn’t carrying the weight physically anymore.

Maybe because something inside me had lightened.

The soldiers came into view first.

They were seated in loose formation under the shade of river trees, armor loosened slightly but still disciplined. A few had skewers of grilled meat. Others were passing around dried provisions.

Then they saw us.

Or more accurately, they saw the floating cloud of gifts following behind me.

Conversation stopped.

One soldier blinked.

Another straightened so fast he nearly dropped his meat skewer.

I let the floating items drift slightly higher for dramatic effect.

Al leaned toward me. “This is your favorite part.”

“It is not.”

“It absolutely is.”

We reached the clearing fully.

The soldiers rose almost in unison.

I waved one hand dismissively. “Relax. Eat.”

Their eyes, however, were not on my face.

They were on the floating pastries.

“What… is that?” one of the younger soldiers asked cautiously.

“Lunch upgrade,” I replied.

The items lowered gently, settling into neat hovering rows in front of them.

For half a second, no one moved.

Then Sela stepped forward, grabbed one of the lavender moonpetal pastries, and held it up like a demonstration.

“It is edible,” she declared.

Marissa followed, picking up a jar of nectar tonic and waving it slightly. “And surprisingly good.”

Evelina knelt beside one of the soldiers and handed him a wrapped bundle personally. “It’s from the market. Please try.”

That broke the hesitation.

One soldier reached forward slowly and picked up a blossom pastry.

He sniffed it.

He bit it.

His eyebrows shot up.

“…It tastes like flowers,” he said.

“That’s the point,” Al replied dryly.

Another soldier opened a jar and dipped a finger in.

“Sweet,” he murmured.

Within moments, disciplined formation dissolved into controlled curiosity.

Large armored men who had just been eating roasted meat were now carefully holding delicate pink pastries shaped like peonies.

It was absurd.

I stood there, arms folded, watching.

And something in my chest shifted again.

They were laughing.

Actually laughing.

Another pretended to inspect a flower crown before one of the fairies’ gifts ended up placed on his head by Sela.

“Sela approves this aesthetic,” she said seriously.

The soldier froze.

Then nodded solemnly.

Al leaned back against a tree trunk and opened his box of sugar petals. “If anyone wants something slightly more refined…”

No one listened.

They were too busy discovering that fairy jellies fizzed slightly when bitten.

I didn’t realize I was smiling until one of the soldiers caught it.

He straightened slightly. “Your Majesty?”

“Yes?”

“…Thank you.”

It was simple.

I nodded once.

“You’re welcome.”

He went back to eating a pastry shaped like a daisy.

I turned slightly away from the group and walked a few steps toward the riverbank.

The water shimmered under sunlight. Fairy mana sparkled faintly across its surface like scattered stars.

I crouched and dipped my fingers in.

Cold.

Clean.

The current flowed steadily toward dwarven land.

I stood slowly.

Turned back toward them.

“All right,” I called out casually. “Enjoy it. We leave in twenty.”

Groans.

“Already?”

“Yes,” I said firmly. “This was a lunch break, not retirement.”