CHAPTER 104: PREPARED? NOT REALLY.

What exactly was the concept of sensation?

Was it just the mental process resulting from the external stimulation of an organ?

A bodily feeling?

A sense of awareness?

A state of interest?

There are likely several definitions and chemical reactions associated with sensation, but Riley Hale was definitely not inclined to find out more about it.

In fact, he’d rather no one thought about anything related to freaking sensations!

But one demon—ehem, dragon lord—was of an entirely different mind.

"Hngh—!"

"H-hey! W-wait! Isn’t this too much?!"

He bucked up, muscles straining as he struggled against his natural instinct. He’d been at it for a while now, and Riley still couldn’t wrap his mind around the absurdity of the situation.

"Faster."

"Wait! Right now, I-it’s not possible!"

"I told you to position yourself better."

"You did, but what good is that—!"

"Ow! Ow!"

"Can’t it be harder?"

"Harder?! H-how can I possibly do it harder?!"

"Breathe properly so it won’t hurt."

That was so much easier said than done! How could he possibly just breathe through this!

Still, Riley tried. He sucked in a sharp breath, steadied his arms, shifted his balance. But before he could brace himself, he slipped forward, chest colliding, and a shrill sound ripped out of him.

"AH—!"

Kael clicked his tongue at the noise, unimpressed.

"You’ve been prepared well before this, so why are you like that?"

Oh.

Ohh, he did not just say that.

"Well, all hail your golden honor," Riley snapped breathlessly, "but I have never once tried to punch a dragon’s chest ever in my life!"

Yes. He really said that. And he was pretty sure that even the resting dead probably heard that one.

Riley Hale was tasked with the absurd job of checking which sensations they shared and how far those sensations went.

So, in his infinite wisdom, the greatest lizard of the millennium told him to test it by seeing if Kael could feel the same pain whenever Riley pinched himself.

But apparently, Kael was against self-harm. Against his self-harm, at least. So, naturally, it became Riley’s job to do the honors.

Kael had even said—with that infuriating calm—that it was Riley’s chance for whatever vengeance he wanted to take.

Oh, wonderful. A once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

So there Kael lay, sprawled out with what Riley could only ever describe as a permanently smug face—one that apparently only existed in his mind—and waited. Waited for a beating Riley had only ever dreamed of.

And no wonder it had only ever been a dream.

Because the first time Riley swung, he realized instantly why there was no such thing as a job listing for "Dragon Disposal."

The first hit sent pain shooting up his wrist, and Kael only gave a mild blink, like he’d just been brushed by a breeze.

Riley winced, shaking out his hand. "Sir, with all due respect, what the hell are you made of, steel?!"

The next moment, somehow, he found himself on top of the dragon lord, straddling him like a completely unhinged beast as he tried pounding on his chest again.

It wasn’t dignified. It wasn’t graceful. He looked and sounded like a desperate animal trying to dent a mountain.

Apparently, Kael had thought that at this rate, Riley would need gravity’s help. Which was how Riley ended up there, above him, pressing down with all the force his mortal frame could muster.

But even gravity was useless.

Because hitting Kael felt like slamming his fists into solid metal.

"Why are you so weak?"

Riley nearly screamed.

So weak?! What kind of nonsense was that? In his mind, it wasn’t that he was weak. It was that Kael was too damn hard!

Sure, he’d been "prepared for combat." Kael had shoved him into training before, insisting he learn at least the basics. But those lessons had been about dodging, not attacking dragons.

If there was one thing Riley could do, it was screech while flailing and narrowly avoiding death. He was excellent at that. In fact, he was pretty sure he was flexible entirely because he was good at that.

But actively punching a dragon? Who in their right mind would try that? Even the others in training weren’t insane enough to attempt it. Also, it’s not like any of the dragons would stay in place to welcome a hit!

What made it worse was that Kael didn’t always feel like this. He wasn’t permanently truck-like. No—this was a dragon who had skin smooth enough to make humans envious, who somehow managed to remain completely untouched by anything unsightly. So why, why, was it impossible to get one clean hit on him now?

"Sir, are you using magic to make this difficult? Because if you have absolutely no desire to get hit, then just tell me so I can stop!" Riley’s voice cracked between fury and desperation.

At first, he hadn’t wanted any part of this experiment. But a tiny part of him—call it stubbornness, call it pettiness—wanted to land one strike. Just one. As revenge.

After several tries, however, that tiny part grew into something else. A genuine need to figure out what the hell Kael was. Why he felt like this. Why his fists hurt while Kael barely blinked. In fact, he was pretty sure that Kael hadn’t felt any of the blows he’d attempted to land.

So then it dawned on him.

If this dragon was just playing with him—just lying there smugly while Riley broke his own knuckles—then his hands were suffering for absolutely nothing.

"No," Kael said calmly, almost bored. "I’m literally doing nothing save for waiting."

"Then why is it like this?!" Riley burst out, fists still throbbing.

Kael raised a brow. "Like what?"

"Like THIS?! Like, like—" Riley flailed, words tangling as he struggled to describe what he was experiencing. Then, suddenly, something clicked in his head.

The dragon lord was basically like an Oobleck. Except... not even a fluid. Confusing, yes, but it was the only explanation Riley could gather.

It was as if Kael’s skin was gearing up for impact, hardening instantly as a defense whenever it sensed a strike.

Kael tilted his head, watching Riley freeze mid-motion. The look on his aide’s face was so intense, so strange, that for a rare moment, the dragon lord actually felt a flicker of alarm.

And then it happened.

Instead of the usual closed fist, Riley’s hand opened and landed squarely on Kael’s chest with a smack.

"???"

Kael stared. What was this?

But then he saw Riley’s face—lighting up, blooming with triumph like he had just cracked some forbidden code.

"What?" Kael asked flatly.

"It worked!" Riley muttered, half to himself, grinning in disbelief.

Sure enough, Kael’s skin under his palm felt... normal. Not indestructible, not metal-hard, just warm, living muscle. Still solid, yes, but no longer punishingly unyielding.

Squeeze. Squeeze.

Riley was so caught up in his discovery that he didn’t even realize he was absentmindedly squeezing Kael’s chest, testing the theory over and over while his brain processed the result.

And Kael?

Kael narrowed his eyes, entirely unsure why he was being groped in the middle of asking to be hit.

"Hey," he said finally, voice low. "Are you done?"