Charles scanned through the entire battlefield rather slowly to see if there were any other dungeon beasts standing—perhaps a goblin that had escaped their onslaught or a Direwolf that still had the will to attack when least expected.
But there was none of that present here.
No being was left alive but the humans present there.
It was then Charles turned around to gaze upon the wall of the dead to see who their savior had been, and feasting his eyes on the person, he had a frown rather than a smile grow upon his expression.
In a low tone only he could hear, he muttered,
"Drake."
Meanwhile;
Drake stood on the edge of the wall, gazing at his system.
{Stats}
Name: Drake Drakon
Rank: SSS Rank
Talent: Dragon Necromancy
Level: 2
Soul Core: 18/40
{Number of Dragons: 1}
{Army: 0 souls sensed}
{Draconic Body: 3}
{Evolution: None}
A few things had certainly changed.
'I'm level 2 now, and my soul core seems to have expanded, meaning the further I go, the more cores I need to consume to level up,' Drake established.
The next thing was the change to the army option.
"Can I have an army now—" he stretched out his hand to tap on the notification, and immediately a new interface appeared before his eyes.
{Army 0}
{Information: Per every dragon, 10 dead can be brought back to serve you as slaves from the dead.}
{Army 0/10}
{Necromancy List}
*Twenty-four Goblins
*Sixty Direwolves
*Eight Humans
{Choose whichever to revive... You have limited slots.}
Drake took his time to read through the notification and was immediately surprised by it all. 'I possess the ability to raise the dead, at least just ten of them, which can't even be roughly considered as an army for now.'
Apart from that, he wasn't sure how far the ability worked. If he were to resurrect ten Direwolves under his ability at this moment, did that also mean he could not dismiss them to take a different term of another species?
Direwolves were strong...
However, these were wolves at the bottom rank of their species.
He couldn't risk his slots being permanently filled with weak-based beasts.
'Becoming the strongest won't be achieved if I don't utilize all I am capable of well enough... Until I'm sure how necromancy works, I'll have to keep these slots open till I get to the level of killing SSS-rank demon-tier beasts.'
Finishing up with this thought, a few groans called Drake back to life.
Looking all around him, he could see the cohort already on the platform, all keeping their distance as they stood alert, monitoring him—and mostly the dragon.
Drake turned to Kyvern and smiled, "You are dismissed."
With that, the massive summon dissolved into darkness and was gone instantly.
Immediately after this, Charles walked forward to Drakon, and a few others followed, one including Gary.
Charles, upon reaching Drake, stretched out his hand for him to shake.
However, all he got in reply was an indifferent stare from him, letting the awkward hand hang in the air for a while too long.
One of the boys who had followed behind tried to shake Charles instead, not wanting to leave him hanging, but the proud leader of the cohort refused to pity and tucked his hand into his pocket with a frown.
"We wanted to say thank you for the help in taking down the horde," Charles said, barely able to contain his pride from bursting out into disrespectful glowering.
But Drake wasn't interested in all that. "How many cores did you gather from the dead?"
His gaze instinctively fell onto the others behind Charles.
They felt his presence seeping like poisonous gas, clogging their lungs—immediately opening their mouths to speak but stuttering...
"Cores?! Why the hell would we give you that?" Charles cut in before any of them could speak. "I commend you for saving us, but that doesn't give you any reason to take our cores."
Drake furrowed his eyes, a bit bewildered.
"Uhm... Charles, if he hadn't stepped in, we would have all died—" Gary stepped in saying, but paused after Charles gave him what looked like a murderous glare.
Then he turned to Drake once more. "I am also an Original. Just because I awakened with an A-rank talent, I am still better than a summoner. Just because you saved us doesn't mean you get a say over my authority. This is my cohort, and just because you are a hero doesn't make you a deity over us."
Drake's lifeless eyes settled on Charles with bloodlust. "Hero? Who said anything about me being a hero? You think I stepped in to save the lot of you out of loyalty, honour, or heroism? They're all greedy lies taught to the weak-minded to keep them trapped in a box of delusion."
"Unlike that, I am someone who prefers to honour my own desires. I discard my heart to the best I can to gain the clearest thoughts. Now tell me—why would I ever put my neck on the line just to see a few more people alive, living well, while I despair deep within?"
Charles gritted his teeth, more enraged. "Drakon, you bastard! How dare you call me weak-minded! You bloody waste of an Original!"
Drake shook his head. "Do you think you can push me to provocation with your simple words? No—only fools would place their nose to a trash pile and say it smells like roses."
"I'll make it easier for you. Give me the cores you attained—or else."
Charles opened his hand, and in it, his rapier appeared from thin air. "Or else what—"
Before he could complete his words, a mighty pool expanded beneath Drake's footing, and out of it emerged the mighty dragon Kyvern with the most menacing demeanor that meant death aimed towards Charles.
'Fuck, what the hell is this? A summon? Why does it look so dangerous!' Charles found his throat go dry and his entire being suddenly feel so small before the cascading figure of the enormous monster.
He tried his best to keep his composure, turning to the others behind him.
"G—Give him what he wants."
The statement stunned the group of Awakened behind him, as none of them had ever seen their leader this agitated. Even during their time in ALCRAN Academy, not once had Charles been this horrified.
Without fail, two men carried out a large sack of cores up to the two, dropping it a good distance away from Kyvern as they were too scared to go closer to the summon.
Drake kept him out for the purpose of intimidation.
Walking up to the sack, he grabbed onto its tied end and loosened it, checking if the cores were truly intact and this wasn't a ploy from the cohort.
However, it seemed his message had been well carried out. There was no trick, and this was their actual haul from the raid.
After he was done checking, he straightened his stance and addressed the cohort. "I know you all worked hard for this loot. However, you owe me your lives. But I'll extend a bit of generosity—to give you all twenty percent to share amongst yourselves if you work with me till the end of this raid."
At his statement, the number of outraged expressions in the crowd seemed to drop drastically—all but Charles, whose pride as an Original only seemed to boil even more.
Gary, on the other hand, had a smile plastered on his expression for some unknown reason.
The reason in particular—Drake Drakon had called for their cores and rescued them in the first place because of an information he had seen on the interface while being on the wall of the dead...
{Strengthen your summon}
{Information: Feed the cores of the dead to allow your summon to grow exceedingly.}
This was something he looked forward to. If the strength of a dragon summon at its base level was this powerful, what changes would occur in strength when fed?