Within the hidden realm of the Soul Contract, the slumbering dragon of the Western Lands lay curled in silence, bathed in a soft, sacred glow.
Levi gazed at its tightly shut eyes, his heart pounding with an uncontrollable thrill.
"A second dragon…?"
"In the span of a single day, I've forged contracts with two dragon hatchlings?"
"This… this is the kind of thing that only exists in legends."
Had he not experienced it himself, he would have never believed that such an impossible stroke of fortune could befall him.
A dragon—king among beasts, the apex of all living creatures—was something countless knights could only dream of glimpsing in their lifetime, let alone bonding with.
Drawing in a deep breath, Levi sank his consciousness into the contract sigil and murmured softly:
"Release the Black Dragon."
In the next moment, a shimmer of light pulsed in the air, and the colossal beast appeared in the center of the room, still locked in its slumber.
Its sheer size rivaled that of a four-wheeled cargo wagon, its body armored in scales as black as forged steel. Half-spread bone wings hinted at the raw, crushing power it possessed.
Levi did not awaken it—he merely stood there, watching in silence for a moment before withdrawing his mind back into the contract realm.
Within that void-like expanse, alongside the two mighty dragons, lay an ancient parchment map and a pair of ghostly blue-glowing wings.
Levi reached for the map and unfurled it. The faded ink depicted a shadowed mountain valley, its surface marked by five crimson seals, each like a droplet of blood.
The strokes were rough, the details sparse—there was no clear sense of the terrain.
"What place is this?" Levi muttered under his breath.
From within the depths of the sigil came the familiar, ancient voice of the elder dragon:
"This is the Valley of the Evil Dragon, a gorge where dragonkind dwell. As for the bloodlines within, their numbers, or their strength… such things are unknown."
"The five seals mark the possible locations of dragon lairs. They may belong to a single great wyrm… or to several, each ruling their own domain."
"Carry this map, and you may follow the path to reach them. If you possess the strength, you could tame the wild dragons within… but if you do not, any contract you attempt will turn to dust."
Levi rolled the map back up and returned it to the contract space.
Just the three words "Valley of the Evil Dragon" were enough to make him understand—this was not a place he should set foot in at his current stage.
"Forget it. I'll bide my time… and only set foot there when my wings are truly ready to soar."
As for the pair of ghostly blue wings, he didn't bother asking. They were clearly some sort of refined material.
The Dragon Tongue Fusion Rite required at least three such materials; he had only one. The ritual was impossible for now.
"I'm still missing one more material… perhaps I should make a trip to the Beast Taming Market."
In this world, anyone could tame beasts, and the markets tied to this trade were among the largest industries.
In those bustling marketplaces, one could find not only the sale of living magical beasts, but also the trade of scales, bones, arcane crystals, and other rare components.
Some tempered weapons with beast bone.
Some crafted flight cloaks from enchanted feathers.
Some collected the bloodlines of spirit beasts to strengthen their own bodies.
It was common knowledge among beast tamers—forming a contract with a spirit beast granted one a reflection of its power.
Contract a bull, and your strength would become like a mountain.
Contract an ape, and your agility would double.
Legends spoke of a demigod in the Western Lands, known as the "Monkey King," who had contracted ten thousand spirit apes—capable of lifting an entire mountain with his bare hands.
The strong could do anything… and the road to becoming strong began with that very first beast contract.
…
Inside the room, Eloise hovered gracefully in midair, light as a wisp of dream; the Western dragon slumbered heavily, its breathing deep and resonant.
Levi's gaze lingered on the two dragon hatchlings—so utterly different from one another—his lips curling into a faint smile.
Though they were still young, the power of the contracts had already begun to subtly reshape his physique—his strength felt more solid, his reflexes sharper.
When they matured, his body would ascend to an unimaginable level.
His thoughts drifted to the unused Gift of Extraction sealed within the contract sigil—one chance to claim a talent from dragonkind.
From the name alone, he understood: it would grant him an ability directly.
"With Eloise as the medium… execute the Gift of Extraction."
Compared to the still-slumbering Western dragon, Eloise's power was far more mature.
Deep within the depths of the contract sigil, the voice of the ancient dragon resonated:
"Ability Extraction—begin."
"…Ten percent… thirty percent… seventy percent… complete."
"Congratulations. You have obtained—Dragon's Might."
A vast, oppressive aura seemed to surge across time and space, slamming into Levi's chest and stealing his breath.
"Dragon's Might—the power to suppress all beings whose bloodline is weaker than that of dragonkind, including humans. Its potency will rise and fall in accordance with your cultivation."
Levi froze for a moment. He had expected something like fire-breathing or earth manipulation—never such an exalted and primal gift.
"Dragon's Might… so this must be an innate instinct of every great wyrm… and I can inherit it as well?"
The corner of his lips lifted into a faint smile.
"What a pleasant surprise."
…
He did not bring either dragon with him. Instead, he locked the door behind him and made his way alone toward the nearest Beast Taming Market.
In a grand city like this, such markets could be found in every district. The larger the market, the more diverse and exquisite the goods—and the more astronomical the prices.
This time, he was only scouting the terrain, so he chose a mid-sized market.
Half an hour later, he stepped into the bustling flow of people.
Even on an ordinary day, thousands came here to trade. The air was thick with the mingled scents of beast hide, spices, and tempered steel.
Tap. Tap.
Levi moved with calm composure, scanning the stalls one by one, each laden with rare and exotic creatures.
A tiny, rainbow-hued ant—no bigger than a fingernail—caught his eye. Its iridescent shell shimmered, and its antennae twitched with uncanny precision.
"How much for this one?" he asked.
The vendor looked up, speaking casually but with firm confidence.
"Juvenile Rainbow Ant—two hundred and fifty thousand gold coins. No tricks, no lies."
Levi raised an eyebrow and walked on. A mere finger-sized beast… priced at two hundred and fifty thousand gold.
Then what would a true magical beast cost?
A dragon's market price would surely start in the billions—and even then, such creatures were nearly impossible to find.
The thought made him chuckle inwardly. No wonder people thought his talent had been ruined.
In their eyes, even the weakest dragon hatchling was a treasure surpassing the wealth of kings and princes.
And now… he possessed not just one.