Virion.
The name struck like a hammer to the skull.
A system message from last week flashed behind my eyes—
[Hidden Scenario Triggered: Gaining a Primordial Beast's Interest]
The image of a winged serpent, coiled with casual menace, drifted behind my eyelids. And now, here it was—hovering lazily in the library air, wings like folded starlight and eyes the color of fractured emeralds.
There was no doubt.
This guy was undoubtedly a Primordial Beast.
Shoot!
My pulse spiked.
I didn't know what exactly a primordial beast was—or what it could do—but the fact that it had taken interest in me meant one thing: danger. The kind no clever plan or lucky dodge could overcome.
And according to my encyclopedia of fiction clichés, primordial beings didn't meddle in mortal affairs without a reason. If it had noticed me, even once, I couldn't afford a single misstep.
- Act natural.- Don't let it know you recognize it.- Don't show emotions.
Its tongue flicked out, tasting the air between us like it was sampling fear.
"You've gone quiet, boy," it said, voice smooth as oil on steel. "Normally I prefer silence, but unfortunately, we do have business to discuss."
I kept my face neutral and rubbed my temple, feigning thought. "Sorry," I murmured. "Just… surprised, that's all."
"Hmm..." Virion's eyes narrowed—and for a heartbeat, I felt exposed.
Like I was standing before a mirror that reflected thought instead of form. Like every flicker of panic was drawn out and pinned under his gaze like an insect beneath glass.
Had it realized I knew?
I didn't move. Not a twitch. Not a breath too deep.
Then—Virion chuckled. A soft, amused sound that made the fine hairs on my neck rise.
"So," he said, curling his tail lazily, "will you help them?"
I blinked once, slowly.I hadn't been caught. But I still had to tread carefully.
"…Help who?"
Virion tapped a claw against the book balanced in his coils—"1001 Ways to Subtly Manipulate Two Idiots Into Romance."
"Zephyr and Luna," he said dryly, as though that alone should explain everything.
"Ah," I said. "Them."
The serpent tilted its head, wings rustling faintly. "You've seen it, haven't you? Their glorious symphony of miscommunication. It has been two years since they have been engaged, and still speaking to each other like diplomats in a hostage negotiation."
Haha, yeah, I can imagine that.
Virion gave a soft hum, like an old professor preparing to lecture. "They are... earnest, I'll give them that. But put them in the same room, and it's like watching two scholars attempt courtship via thesis rebuttal."
His way of speaking is something else.
He gave a casual flick of his tail.
"She leaves hand-stitched bookmarks in his bookshelves. He assumes the staff misplaced something."
Another flick.
"He gifts her rare tomes and delivers them with all the charm of a librarian under duress—'Read this,' he says. Nothing more. She thinks he's scolding her."
Yeah, he probably made it sound like she is an idiot.
"Ha..."
A faint shake of his head.
"They are—how do humans phrase it, yeah, an epitome of a walking disaster."
A small laugh threatened to break loose. Though I quickly suppressed it.
But the image was vivid. Two brilliant minds fumbling through social interaction like toddlers with swords.
"But they're trying, you know," Virion said, gaze drifting. "I like that, in a way. Zephyr does watch her—more than he realizes. And Luna, sweet girl, listens to every word he says like it's scripture."
He turned back to me. "And still, they're hopeless."
"I have tried to put the two together and ease their relationship. But as you can see, there's no result." He paused, then added, almost gently, "I thought perhaps you might lend a hand."
Well, this is why a powerful beast asking for help. Logical. Anyway, I promised to help the two get closer anyway. But...
"I agree," I said slowly, "but I have one request."
Virion's eyes narrowed slightly, not in suspicion, but in curiosity.
"And so do I," he replied, voice mild.
Oh.
Then, we both said it at the exact same time—
"Nothing inappropriate."
We stared at each other.
Then smiled.
Virion's grin was all fang and fond mischief. "Good to know we're on the same page."
I gave a subtle nod. "Just easing their relationship. No forced proximity, no suggestive scenarios, no weird potions..."
"No love letters disguised as curses," Virion added dryly perhaps recalling Zephyr's tries(It would be funny if it is real). "And definitely no closet traps."
...
"That's oddly specific."
He didn't try it himself, right?
"Because I've seen it happen."
"Oh, I see..."
He didn't witness others-!
"..." I sensed Virion's chilling gaze and quickly stopped and didn't press further. Who knows if it can read minds.
Instead, I exhaled, letting my stance ease slightly. "Alright then... how can I help?"
Virion hummed, the sound low and echoing faintly across the stacks. His gaze drifted past me, through the shelves, like he was staring at something far away—or someone.
He can see them from here, can't he?
Even without looking, I could feel their presence. Zephyr's overly-restrained breathing, Luna's occasional soft shuffle of papers. My Echo of Life ability whispered their signatures into my awareness—two flickering lights orbiting each other at just the right distance to never collide.
"They're still standing like that, aren't they?" I smiled.
Virion didn't answer directly. He just smiled.
"I'll explain the plan later," he said. "After dinnertime, in your room."
"In my—?"
"Of course. I'll come by. Make sure to prepare a cool bath."
A beat of silence passed.
...
Is he gonna take a bath at my room?
"For the pill," Virion quickly clarified, as if I should already know. "You want an expert's help, don't you?"
The Clearflow pill.
Well, if a Primordial Beast was offering assistance, even as payment—there was no way I'd refuse.
"I'll have it ready," I said, nodding quickly. "Come by whenever you want after dinner."
I turned to go, then paused.
"Oh, and my room—312. East Wing."
Better I tell him directly. I couldn't afford him thinking I knew he already knew.
Virion blinked once. Then let out a light, serpentine chuckle. "Don't worry."
His emerald eyes gleamed. "I know everything."
Of course he did.
I gave a slight bow—not out of formality, but practicality—and stepped back into the hallway.
As I walked away, the faint sound of Virion's voice followed me, murmuring almost absentmindedly as his attention shifted back to the pair of hopeless scholars.
"…Can't even invite her to the academy ball. Tsk. At this rate, the universe might collapse before those two share a proper dance…"
I paused at the corridor's edge.
The academy ball.
So that's what this was about.
That was the catalyst. The coming event that threatened to drag Zephyr and Luna deeper into awkward oblivion… unless someone stepped in.
Unless I stepped in.
I sighed, rubbing my temple. This was going to be trouble. Trouble with capital T.
And somehow, I had just agreed to help a Primordial Beast play matchmaker.
Great.