For a full half minute, Gawain silently looked at Melita, and Melita silently looked at Gawain.
The former was dumbfounded; the latter was utterly confused.
In the end, Gawain was the first to react. The corner of his mouth twitched as he subconsciously pointed at Melita's long pale-purple hair. "How could dragons not have hair? You..."
"Our Human Form is a spell effect. Of course a spell effect can look like anything—I look like this simply because I like it," Melita said matter-of-factly, pointing at the top of her head. "My dragon form is my true body—I grow scales. Where would hair come from?"
Gawain said, "You... actually have a solid point..."
After thinking about it, Melita kindly added, "It seems your friend will be disappointed—Tarlonnd has no similar products or technology. If we had to name the closest industry, it would be scale polishing and dyeing, as well as implantation technology. It counts as a form of beauty treatment. If your friend doesn't mind, he could try implanting a layer of scales. There are many colors to choose from, and his scalp would be protected from sword thrusts and knife slashes afterward..."
Gawain could not detect even the slightest hint of a joke on the agent's face—she was clearly quite serious. Yet the moment he pictured Sordelin with a dragon-scale scalp, he shuddered and shook his head repeatedly. "Forget it, forget it. He's already... well, bright enough."
Thinking it over carefully, Gawain felt that Melita's suggestion did have a certain appeal. Setting aesthetics aside, a head made impervious to blades and bullets through implanted synthetic scales would clearly be highly practical. A true powerhouse should not mind such a thing. But it did not matter whether Gawain approved—the key was that Sordelin would never accept it...
Realizing that increasingly