Lucian held the bluish-green wolf egg before his eyes.
Even through the thick shell, he could feel the pulse of life beating faintly within.
But he didn't have a good way to carry it. The egg was too large, and he couldn't store living creatures inside the spatial disk anymore — not after he'd modified it for lightweight carrying.
So perhaps the only way was to just hold it in his arms.
He looked at Selinsax.
Now that he had a true dragon at his side, perhaps it was time to think about becoming a Dragon Knight.
It had always been his dream — to soar through the skies atop a dragon's back.
After all, in any world where dragons exist, who could resist the temptation to ride one?
"Selinsax."
Hearing him call, the dragon girl turned, her golden eyes leaving the wolf egg in his arms.
"Yes? What is it, my lord?"
Lucian met her gaze squarely.
"May I ride you?"
Selinsax froze for a moment. Then her fair skin flushed crimson all at once.
"W–Wait! I… I haven't mentally prepared myself for that yet…"
Lucian blinked, realizing a moment later that what he said might have sounded… ambiguous.
For a normal mount, saying "ride" would be perfectly fine. In the Lands Between, even spectral steeds like Torrent were bound only to their masters — "riding" them was just the usual term.
But this was different. The other party could take human form.
She wouldn't have misunderstood that… would she?
Whether she did or not, Melina definitely had.
Lucian could feel a chill creeping from behind him — an unmistakable, murderous chill.
Just then the king felt true fear for the first time.
"Uh—no, no, you misunderstand!" he stammered, hands raised. "I meant when you're in dragon form, letting me ride on your back, to fly together!"
Selinsax blinked in confusion.
"Hmm? What else would you mean?" she asked innocently. "Is there… another kind of riding?"
Lucian fell silent.
"…Then, may I ask why you reacted so strongly just now?"
Selinsax turned her head aside, glancing at him from the corner of her eye, her cheeks still faintly red.
"For us Ancient Dragons, allowing someone to ride upon our backs isn't something we grant lightly," she said quietly. "It's not… something just anyone can do. We must first forge a sacred pact — an oath of old."
Her hands fidgeted, fingers pressing together shyly.
"I—I did say I wished to serve by your side. So… I suppose this was bound to happen eventually. But bringing it up so suddenly… at least let me prepare myself first."
Lucian: "…"
Still, he noticed that the icy aura from behind him — Melina's displeasure, had dissipated. He exhaled in relief.
Wait. How didMelina even know there was another meaning to "ride"…?
He decided not to question it. For his own safety.
Returning to the matter at hand, Lucian said, "A pact and an oath, then. That's fine. So, you agree, yes?"
Selinsax lowered her head bashfully, pressing her fingertips together again before giving a small nod.
That counted as consent.
Lucian didn't quite understand what kind of ritual the dragons used for such oaths, but he could tell it meant a lot to her. Ancient Dragons stood at the pinnacle of life — for one to allow another being to ride upon them likely carried profound significance.
But for now, the most important thing was: she had agreed.
With that settled, Lucian decided to resume exploring the Night's Sacred Ground.
There was still much within this place left unseen.
Last time, because of the time limit imposed by the Wind Spirit Moon Shadow's weight-clearing ability, he had only grabbed the Fingerslayer Blade and made a quick trip to the cathedral — where Ranni's "brother" should have been before leaving.
He hadn't dared to waste time exploring further. If the Moon Shadow's grace expired mid-way, he would've been stranded.
But now that Selinsax had pledged to become his mount, Lucian could afford to take things slower.
He and the dragon left the underground chamber and began a deeper survey of the Night's Sacred Ground.
This time, he approached a building to the right of the Cathedral of the massive chair.
The architecture mirrored that of the cathedral area, though it seemed more like a residential district at first glance.
Inside, however, it wasn't quite what it appeared.
One of the buildings was indeed like a mansion — filled with ornate furniture, distinctly different from the common dwellings of Nokron.
Clearly, this had been a residence for the ruling class.
Lucian gave the place a cursory inspection; nothing particularly caught his interest, so he moved on.
The other nearby structures, however, were completely different.
According to Selinsax, they had once been research facilities.
Intrigued, Lucian entered one such building.
Inside, he found many silver tear constructs standing guard — along with a few defective Silver Tear Mimics that could only assume incomplete Nokronian forms.
Floating among them were orbs of pure lightning.
In the game, these "lightning balls" were simply environmental hazards — unable to be locked onto, lacking health bars, but capable of spamming bolts like deranged storm gods.
Here, though, they behaved like unstable lifeforms. Fortunately, two good hits were enough to disperse them, and their explosions weren't as overwhelming as he had feared.
Still, they fascinated Lucian.
These lightning orbs had no flesh, no consciousness — just an artificial soul woven from pure energy.
In the Lands Between, every living being was composed of three essential elements: body, soul, and will.
And these creatures clearly lacked two of the three.
"Fascinating," Lucian murmured. "No body, no mind… yet still alive."
If only he had a way to control them — what an incredible study they'd make.
He continued exploring, one laboratory after another.
Much of the ancient technology here was beyond his understanding — the civilization that built it was separated from his era by countless ages.
Still, some of the results of their research were fairly easy to interpret.
For instance, in one room, he found a peculiar corpse.
The body had once been submerged in silvery liquid, though the containment chamber had long since shattered.
Its flesh was metallic-white, limbs shriveled and thin — unmistakably a Child of the Golden Order, yet larger and more imposing than any he'd seen before.
Lucian thought for a moment.
"Could this be… the prototype?"
He remembered the Albinaurics and their mysterious origins. Perhaps the sorcerers of Raya Lucaria hadn't created them entirely from scratch — maybe they had found this.
If so, the "albinaurics of old" mentioned in the Albinauric Staff might have referred to such a being.
It made sense. Even the Dragonkin Soldiers of old bore the same leg deformities, suggesting a shared line of imperfect biological craft.
Lucaria had likely uncovered these prototypes from the ruins of the Eternal Cities, studying and replicating them — hence the striking resemblance.
And come to think of it, the Consecrated Snowfield might have been connected to the Eternal Cities as well.
It too housed gigantic silver beings — and even the spectral Dragonkin Soldiers.
The terrain there, filled with petrified pillar-like roots, seemed all too similar to the underground realm below.
There must have been some deep connection in the distant past.
Lucian descended to the next floor — and there, something new awaited.
An enormous chamber stretched before him, entirely open, with no partitions at all.
In its dim expanse lay colossal, dragon-like corpses, each with hollowed abdomens and shriveled scales, all slumped against the wall in eerily similar poses — as though they had all died the same way.
The corpses lying before them were none other than those of the Dragonkin Soldiers.
These beings, who fought by wielding their flesh and lightning of ice, were by no means weak. That frost and thunder were powers unique only to them.
They had never once witnessed the true heavens, nor the thunder that raged across the skies—thus, they created their own imitation: ice-lightning.
Their bodies were arranged neatly in two rows across the vast chamber—three on each side—filling the entire level to its very edges.
Judging by their still, undisturbed forms, it seemed they had never once moved since the day of their creation. Perhaps… they had never been awakened at all.
Selinsax followed beside Lucian, carefully holding the wolf egg in her arms.
When her eyes fell upon the Dragonkin Soldiers—each bearing faint traces of ancient dragon features—she couldn't help but comment with a huff,
"We true dragons look much better than this."
"I can't imagine what sort of madmen thought it wise to stitch together such strange creatures."
Lucian didn't respond. In truth, he found the Dragonkin Soldiers rather impressive—almost stylish, in their brutal, artificial way.
They reminded him of some kind of berserk, man-made biological weapon.
What truly surprised him, however, was that these Dragonkin Soldiers had left behind ashes.
Inside the abdominal cavities of two of the corpses, he discovered bones that glimmered faintly—each holding a fragment of lingering spirit.
Their souls had anchored themselves to a single rib bone, which had fallen and rested deep at the base of the abdomen.
Bones that carried souls like this were, for all intents and purposes, Spirit Ashes.
Without hesitation, Lucian collected both of them.
After all, the Ancient Dragons had once been the impenetrable bulwark of kings.
The Nox royal family had forged these Dragonkin Soldiers in an attempt to assist in the creation of their artificial deity—the Mimic Tear, a mockery of the true King of Night.
Though these Dragonkin Soldiers had been deemed failures, Lucian did not turn his nose up at them.
He ascended to the highest floor of the structure, where a small circular domed chamber awaited—its entrance sealed tight.
Yet, with a bit of "forceful persuasion", Lucian easily broke through and stepped inside.
There wasn't much in the room—nothing, in fact, except for a single pedestal at its center.
Atop it rested a magnificent silver chalice, its surface adorned with intricate, swirling engravings.
It looked different from the many golden chalices Lucian had picked up before.
This one was flatter in shape, its rim wider, and within it shimmered a violet liquid, dense with an aura of pure Mystery.
Or perhaps… it wasn't merely mysterious—this liquid was Mystery itself, distilled into a tangible form.
Lucian gazed upon the chalice and its strange, luminous contents, unsure of its purpose.
Upon closer inspection, he noticed how tiny specks within the liquid twinkled like distant stars, while its surface bore faint metallic striations, eerily similar to those found on the Mimic Tears.
"Could it be… the Tears were born from this?" he murmured.
He scoured his memory for any lore or detail that might correspond to this chalice and its enigmatic contents.
Nothing came to mind—until a sudden flash of insight struck him.
He recalled Asimi, the missing Mimic Tear from earlier.
In one of the discarded storylines, players were said to seek the "Tear Chalice of Nokron, the Eternal City."
There, they would drink a special droplet from within the chalice to empower Asimi.
It was also known by another name—the Cradle Chalice.
If that were true, then this must indeed be the same sacred vessel—the chalice from which the Mimic Tears were birthed and strengthened.
If so… then the violet liquid within must be the "Dewdrop" itself.
Whatever its true nature, Lucian wasn't about to leave it behind. He quickly stored the Silver Chalice into his Spatial Disc.
He could figure out the rest later—better to keep it first than regret it later.
And with that, Lucian had fully explored every corner of the Night's Sacred Realm.
Finding nothing else left to uncover, he turned toward the outskirts of the dark realm with Selinsax at his side.
By now, the duration of Wind Spirit Moon Shadow's flight ability had long expired. To leave this place, Lucian would have to rely on Selinsax herself.
Which meant only one thing—their Contract Ritual had to be performed.
Lucian glanced toward her and asked,
"Selinsax, about that contract you mentioned earlier—how exactly does it work?"
She twirled a strand of hair around her finger and smiled faintly.
"Hmm… It's actually quite simple. Nothing too complicated."
"We merely need to leave a mark—one belonging to each of us, upon the other."
Lucian blinked, slightly confused. Something about that explanation sounded… suggestive.
"Uh… how exactly do we do that?"
Selinsax stepped forward, closing the distance between them until their bodies were almost touching.
The air grew faintly charged, the atmosphere… strangely intimate.
Lucian instinctively held his breath, heart racing faster with every second.
Selinsax bit her lip softly; even she seemed nervous.
The Ancient Dragons were a proud race—rarely would they mingle with other beings, much less permit another to ride upon their back.
In her understanding, such a thing was only acceptable after a contract was forged.
"I've… never done this before, truth be told," she murmured.
"But please, leave it to me."
She gently took his stiff hand, pressing her right hand over his.
In the next moment, a surge of draconic lightning flowed into Lucian's body, altering the Dragon Communion Seal upon his hand.
When she withdrew her touch, a crimson ancient dragon crest glowed vividly upon the back of his hand—crackling with red lightning.
He could feel the storm within him respond in kind.
Then Selinsax turned around, lifting her long braid aside to reveal the smooth, pale skin of her back.
"Please… place your hand upon me," she said softly.
"Leave upon me your mark. Do not worry—I will guide you."
Lucian hesitated only a moment before resting his hand against her back. Her skin was warm and soft—nothing like the rugged scales of her draconic form.
Her body trembled slightly beneath his touch; clearly, she was not as calm as she tried to appear.
Channeling his own magic, Lucian allowed her to guide the flow, forming the imprint.
Slowly, a crest took shape—a soaring hawk, wings spread wide, and behind it, a rising sun.
When the marking was complete, he could sense the exchange of essence—Selinsax now carried traces of storm and sunlight within her.
This contract, he realized, was not merely symbolic—it was an exchange of power, a binding of souls.
She turned back toward him, explaining softly,
"For us dragons, the meaning of this pact is sacred."
"We rarely, if ever, forge such contracts with other races."
"A dragon will only form one contract in their entire lifetime."
She paused, her expression slightly embarrassed.
"Actually… this isn't a perfectly equal pact."
"Usually, the dragon holds the dominant role—but I took the liberty of… making you the dominant one."
Their eyes met briefly before she bowed her head, cheeks tinted faintly red.
And then, with a shy voice barely above a whisper, she said—
"My… master…"
Afterward, guided by her, Lucian swore the Oath of Bond:
that he and Selinsax would watch over each other, never to betray the other.
Though the ritual held no trace of romantic intent, there was no denying it forged a connection deeper than mere companionship.
Riding atop Selinsax's neck, Lucian still felt dazed, recalling what had just transpired.
He hadn't expected the Ancient Dragon Contract to carry such gravity.
No wonder she had reacted so strongly back when he'd first asked if he could ride her.
Compared to this… that simple request seemed downright innocent.
He couldn't help but think—
'How is this any different from marriage?'
'A contract for a moment of bliss… and a lifetime of future chaos.'
Lucian sighed inwardly. Somehow, he had a feeling the coming "battles" of the heart would be far harder to survive than any battlefield.
Still… a beautiful dragon maiden calling him "Master"?
Who in the Lands Between could resist that?
And with the face of Fire Keeper, no less—
that was just unfair.
Saved a dragon in a dungeon, she transformed into a dragon maiden, swore eternal loyalty, and now served as his companion—
Was this even the Lands Between anymore?
Or had he wandered straight into the script of a Light Novel, or maybe a FanFiction?