Carius could feel his hold thickening, the air around the dragon becoming more distorted. But he didn't say anything. It was paramount that Draktharion came to this realization himself.
Draktharion exhaled sharply, his molten gaze boring into Carius. His massive, clawed hands clenched and unclenched as if battling an unseen war within himself.
"I want a mana contract."
Carius remained silent for a moment, his eyes betraying nothing. Then, with a simple motion, a golden contract materialized in his hand.
It shifted fluidly as he engraved clauses into it with the motion of his fingers. When he was done, he sent it forward.
Draktharion caught it midair, his fiery eyes quickly scanning the clauses. It was to the point. No excess wording. No hidden manipulation. It contained exactly what he needed, nothing more, nothing less.
His expression remained stormy, but his taloned hand pressed against the parchment.
The contract ignited.
Golden motes surged from its pages, splitting into twin streams of energy that sank into both of their chests.
The moment the contract was complete, Draktharion felt it.
A tether.
A connection.
Subtle, but there.
Then, Carius spoke, his tone eerily calm.
"Don't do anything to stand out."
Draktharion's massive body tensed.
"Put your head down and await orders."
A slow, ominous pause.
"Also," Carius continued, his voice dipping lower.
"Avoid any and all contact with him."
Draktharion's fists clenched even tighter, his molten rage flaring. His jaw worked, his sharp teeth grinding together.
'Damn him!'
But, he nodded.
With a deep, guttural growl, fire erupted around him, shattering the darkened space and revealing the dense, emerald-green forest.
Then, without another word, he shot into the skies, disappearing into the horizon.
Carius didn't move.
Didn't acknowledge his departure. Didn't turn his gaze toward the skies.
His expression remained unchanged, like a god overseeing an ant colony, as though this entire exchange had been nothing more than a routine task.
The deal was done. Another step in his plan.
His eyes drifted slightly, scanning the surroundings.
He had chosen this particular dense forest on the collective island where recruits met for their specializations.
He needed privacy.
"Did you really sign a mana contract with him?"
Despite the sudden voice, Carius's gaze remained forward. His voice was placid.
"His perception of reality has long since been under my control."
A soft chuckle followed.
"How cruel."
From the foliage, a figure emerged.
Hair white as snow. Slender frame. Glasses gleaming under the faint light.
His aura, while deep, sat only at Expert- rank. Far, far beneath Carius.
Lucas Ravenstein.
The moment he stepped forward, he pushed his glasses up, his expression unreadable.
Carius didn't acknowledge him.
Lucas sighed.
"What do you need him for?"
Carius remained dismissive.
"You should know your place."
His voice carried a weight and an unseen force settled on Lucas's shoulders, pressing down like an invisible hand of the world itself.
Then, Carius turned, finally looking at him.
"Are you ready for your fate?"
Lucas clenched his fists. His knuckles turned white.
But his face… remained blank.
"You make it sound like I have a choice."
Carius's expression didn't shift.
"The weak have no right to a choice."
Lucas's fingers dug into his palms, but he didn't argue.
Instead, his voice came out quietly.
"What do you plan on doing with him?"
For the first time, Carius's abyssal eyes flickered.
For the first time, his expression cracked.
A flash of something.
Anger. Disgust.
His fingers twitched as memories surged in.
The cold crimson eyes staring through him.
The gleaming blade that had almost beheaded and ended his life.
His voice came out cold.
"He will be taught the way of the world."
Lucas's expression hardened.
He took a step forward, his teeth grinding.
"Will they be okay?"
Carius didn't even turn his head.
"Your deal has nothing to do with me."
His tone was final.
"Prepare to fulfill your duties at the banquet. Minimize contact."
Lucas's throat dried up, but before he could speak—
Carius disappeared.
Vanishing like a blip.
Lucas stood there, the forest deathly silent around him. His fist clenched.
So hard, his nails bit into his palms.
So hard, blood ran down his fingers.
"Shit."
He exhaled, his voice low.
…
The week went by quickly, and the day of the banquet arrived.
Atticus stood in front of a full-body mirror inside the "small" building he had built on his first day in the military training camp.
Only, now it was far from small.
Over the past few days, Ozeroth had turned what was meant to be a simple structure into a whole estate, designating different parts for things as absurd as the last.
But as long as it didn't interfere with his training, Atticus had resolved to let it go.
He adjusted the bow tie at his neck, checking himself out in the mirror. The tuxedo fit perfectly, its dark fabric sleek and formal. He didn't particularly care for these kinds of events, but at the very least, he wouldn't embarrass himself.
"Still falls short of the great Ozeroth," the spirit scoffed, unimpressed.
Atticus rolled his eyes. "Of course. You exist on a level that transcends us mere mortals."
"Yes!" Ozeroth declared with absolute confidence. "I'm glad to see you're finally coming around to recognizing my greatness."
Atticus shook his head, unable to suppress a smirk, before heading outside.
The sun was already dipping beyond the horizon, streaking the sky with warm hues of orange and violet.
The banquet would be held at night, and it seemed the others were already dressed and gathered, waiting for him.
The key figures were all there. Aurora stood at the front, her usual fire barely contained as she crossed her arms.
Kael's expression remained unreadable, as always.
Nate, as expected, was loud and energetic, exchanging jokes with some of the other leaders.
Among them were also a few representatives from different races, elves, dwarves, demons, and angels, all dressed in sharp, formal attire, waiting for their leader.
Atticus took his time scanning the group, adjusting the cuffs of his jacket.
"What took you so long?" Aurora challenged.
"Greatness takes time." Atticus smiled.
Then, his brow furrowed. 'Shit.' He grimaced inwardly. 'I'm starting to sound like Ozeroth.'
Ozeroth erupted into laughter. 'It's good that you're choosing to learn from true greatness, Bond! You're making progress!'
Atticus ignored him, instead letting his gaze sweep across the gathering.
His eyes landed on Zoey.
Their gazes met.
For a moment, time seemed to slow.
There was only one word to describe her.
Beautiful.
No, enchanting.
Like a fairy from the old myths, draped in soft purples and silvers, the hues complementing her vibrant violet hair and shimmering eyes.
The faint glow of spiritual energy around her only added to the effect, making her look otherworldly.
Atticus got a grip on himself, shaking off the distraction. He had a banquet to attend, and a sudden appreciation for Zoey's beauty wouldn't change that.
He quickly scanned the rest of the group, until he realized something.
His eyes sharpened.
"Where's Lucas?"
There was a slight pause before Nate responded.
"Said he had some class in rune engraving this afternoon. I haven't seen him since. It's on the same island, so he'll meet us there, I guess."
Atticus remained quiet for a moment, processing the information. Something about it didn't sit right with him.
Since they had arrived at the training camp, Lucas had been distant, keeping to himself for most of their training.
Atticus had never pried, but now that he thought about it, he had noticed something.
Lucas was always carrying a particular emotion.
Regret.
It had been there since the very first day. Atticus exhaled slowly.
'I wonder what he regrets…'
He made a mental note to speak with him when the chance came.