Hearing that word—him, again stirred sothing in Ethan’s chest. It reminded him of his mother, who was still fighting desperately for her life. How many battles had she endured by now? His eyes flickered as he pressed a hand to his brow.
"Contract, manifest..."
A dazzling, multicolored hexagram shimred into being before him.
"Consider yourself fortunate," he murmured. "Soone’s pleading for you. Offer your blood essence..."
Before he could finish, a sharp whoosh cut through the air. A single scale on the Dragon of Consumption’s neck split open, and a drop of blood—large as a water barrel—burst forth, splattering directly onto the glowing hexagram. In an instant, the colors drained away, leaving only one: deep crimson.
"Uh..." Ethan froze, staring. The creature hadn’t even bothered to see what kind of contract it was. It had offered itself too eagerly. The spell he’d just cast wasn’t so simple pact—it was a genuine servant contract, one he had never used before. He’d half-expected the dragon to resist or bargain. Clearly, it was too terrified to care. The longer one lived, the more one feared death.
As the bond settled into place, the sky above gave a faint tremor. Ethan ignored it. The Dragon of Consumption was no longer targeted by the swirling five-colored vortex, which, having lost its prey, gradually slowed and dissolved into the void.
"Master, I’ll return and rest first," ca the dragon’s voice, weak and trembling. Without waiting for Ethan’s reply, its massive body shrank rapidly until it was no bigger than the little Golden Dragon—but pitch black. A flicker of dark light, and it dove straight into Ethan’s lower abdon.
Ethan probed with his Soul Sense. The creature had nestled itself within his Core, coiling around the roots of the Tree of Life like a sleeping serpent. Its breathing was faint, its body gently shifting as though drawn by so invisible rhythm.
Then another flash of light—a golden one this ti. The little Golden Dragon appeared before him, chirping a few quick sounds, waving its tiny claws in what seed like an attempt at communication. Before Ethan could even respond, it too darted into his lower abdon and vanished.
Ethan could only let out a helpless sigh. "What a ss..."
Inside his Core, there were now seeds, dragons, and that strange sprout reaching all the way into his brain, its branches intertwined with his organs. And in his Mindscape... a group of childlike spirits still resided. He couldn’t help but wonder if he was even human anymore. More and more, he felt like a vessel filled with things beyond comprehension.
He shook his head, pushing the thought aside. Looking around, he saw that the entire island lay in ruins. Above him, sunlight poured through a clear sky—the waterspout that had once engulfed the island had vanished without a trace.
Then his stomach dropped. Right... the people.
Were they all caught in the destruction? He quickly spread out his Soul Sense, searching. Relief washed over him when he felt their presence belowground. They were alive—terrified, but alive. Judging by their panic, they must have thought a tsunami or earthquake had struck.
Still, the Wyrm Tribe that had ruled this island was gone—completely annihilated. Only six remained elsewhere on Sacred Sea Island, and Ethan had no intention of sparing them. He had discovered what they truly were when he found a massive boneyard hidden on the island: piles of animal skeletons and countless human remains.
These were the victims, the ones the tribe had fed upon.
To consu human flesh... such creatures had forfeited the right to exist.
"Shatterstar, get another ch suit!"
Ethan’s voice carried a trace of irritation. His previous suit had been destroyed by the Dragon of Consumption, and the thought made his jaw tighten. That creature deserved another beating. The ch had been forged from tal mined from the Umbral Star—a substance that didn’t exist anywhere on Earth. The strength of that ore was hundreds, even thousands of tis greater than the finest steel on the planet. And now, one of those rare suits was gone. Only nine had ever been built, and more than a tenth of them had just been reduced to scrap.
After equipping the new ch, Ethan’s first stop was the boneyard. Standing before the endless field of bones, he felt a quiet heaviness settle in his chest. He couldn’t leave these remains to bleach under the open sky.
He raised his hand and brought his palm down hard.
Boom!
A massive rock shattered into dust, scattering over the skeletal remains. One by one, Ethan moved the larger stones from around the island, working without pause. When he finally stepped back, the boneyard was covered beneath a thick layer of rock and dust. He gathered smaller stones and piled them flat across the top until the mound stood firm and silent.
"I can only do this much," he said softly, gazing at the grave. "Rest here in peace. The view isn’t bad."
After a long breath, Ethan turned away and began walking toward the place where the captives were held. He soon found a wide burrow leading downward. Retracting the ch, he stepped inside and disappeared into the dim tunnel.
---
"Blackie, hurry up! The boss is waiting for us!"
Across the vast ocean, two Flying Dragon cruise ships cut through the waves, engines roaring. On the deck of one ship, Micah stood at the bow, shouting ahead. In the distance, two thick ropes extended over the water, each tied to a black figure sprinting across the surface of the sea.
The figure turned his head, revealing two large, glowing purple eyes. "What’s the rush? You try pulling it yourself!" he barked.
It was Blackie—his true form—straining to drag both cruise ships forward.
"Tch, who else but you can run on water? If I could, I would!" Micah shot back, completely unbothered by the complaint.
Blackie huffed, his breath ragged. "It’s not like I’m the only one who can do this..." he muttered under his breath.
From the other ship, a calm but unmistakably sharp voice drifted over the waves. "Are you saying you want to pull instead?"
The Dragon Child stood at the bow, her tone soft but carrying the faint echo of a draconic growl. Everyone on both ships heard her clearly.
"Uh—no, no, that’s not what I ant!" Blackie’s neck shrank into his shoulders. Without another word, he picked up the pace.
The crew tried not to laugh, but a few smirks slipped through. The image of Blackie—the mighty dark beast—humbled so easily was too much to resist.
When they had first arrived at Sacred Sea Island, they’d been ambushed by six white-robed figures trying to show off. The fight ended before it began; the six were crushed instantly. The group had been ready to attack the Dissenters’ forces on the island when a man nad Ery Shaw appeared. Celeste had stopped them and spoken with him, and after so conversation, they learned a great deal—including that Amber Zane had been captured by soone. The group was already preparing a rescue when Ethan’s ssage ca through.
He needed a ship.
Naturally, they seized two of the fastest they could find. But once they set sail, they discovered the unpleasant truth—these "Flying Dragon" cruise ships weren’t nearly fast enough. At their current speed, reaching Ethan would take nearly a week. To make matters worse, the captain admitted there wasn’t enough fuel for a round trip.
That was when Blackie had opened his mouth, suggesting that he and the Dragon Child could each pull one of the ships to speed things up.
It seed like a great idea at the ti—until the Dragon Child took him aside for a "chat." When he returned, one of his eyes was swollen black and blue.
Now, as he dragged both vessels through the water, no one dared bring it up again.
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