Anser's heart jolted, and he was overjoyed.
"A rare wondrous item!"
Rand did not even have a mount of his own, yet he gave him a magic item capable of contracting an otherworldly mount. Thoughtful and generous—truly a warm guy.
"Wait… his mount wouldn't have died, would it?" Anser suddenly thought of this possibility.
Following a Paladin was indeed dangerous. Chances were that more than one of his mounts had died already. Otherworldly creatures might be able to sense the traces of a soul contract; perhaps they had already "blacklisted" him.
An otherworldly mount was very similar to the Paladin-exclusive 2nd-level spell Find Steed, except that Find Steed was compulsory. The creature it summoned was more like a specific type of magical creature, with its strength tied to the spell slot used.
Clutching the holy symbol, Anser could not wait even a moment. He stood up and walked behind the trees to avoid being seen by the refugees.
Bratt and the other person had no idea what he was about to do and silently stayed nearby on guard.
Anser held the holy symbol against his chest. He first prayed inwardly that he would not summon anything strange, then poured his innate magic power into it, activating the holy symbol.
In the next instant, he felt his mind being drawn into the holy symbol, and vague planes appeared one after another within his perception.
Dreamlike, despair, chaos, wildness, joy, vitality, warmth, benevolence, malice, madness…
Anser had some understanding of planar lore. The two planes closest to him should be the Feywild and the Shadowfell, both within the Material Plane.
"Looks like I can't choose randomly. The evil alignment might cause trouble, while the good alignment would be too restrictive…"
After a moment of thought, he chose the Feywild.
Following his intent, an invisible ripple quietly probed into the other plane through the holy symbol as a medium.
He did not really understand this process and could only wait patiently.
After several minutes, a hazy consciousness lightly touched his mind through the holy symbol, carrying a hint of curiosity and tentative probing.
Anser immediately learned its identity: a variant horse. It seemed that the holy symbol would only issue requests to species that met the criteria of a "mount."
After a while, several more consciousnesses responded to the summons—there were deer and sheep. Their strength was quite ordinary, and none of them could fly.
"Among animals, strength reigns supreme. Perhaps those powerful creatures don't think much of me," he sighed inwardly.
The spell's effect was about to end, and Anser had to make a choice quickly. Of course, he could also give up and try again tomorrow.
After a brief consideration, he decided not to wait any longer. Trusting his intuition, he chose the variant horse that felt closer to him and activated the holy symbol to establish a magical contract with it.
Threads of magic power interwove, forming a complex mass of arcane sigils that were branded upon both of their minds, tightly binding the two together.
"Come," Anser called softly.
A few seconds later, a black steed burst out of the void without warning, galloping around the woodland clearing in playful circles.
Then it trotted up to Anser, lowered its head, and met his gaze with large blue-black eyes.
"Hello, my name is Anser."
This was telepathy. It ignored language and race; with a mere thought, communication was possible. The maximum communication range was about two kilometers.
He gently stroked the horse's face. The touch was resilient and cool—surprisingly, it was not fur, but extremely fine scales.
"You have dragon blood?" he asked in some surprise.
The black horse shook its head, sending back a somewhat simple-minded mental fluctuation: "Born that way."
"What's your name?"
The black horse tilted its head and thought for a long time. "Nornoth?"
"Haha, then I'll call you Nornoth from now on," Anser said. He felt that its intelligence was a bit lacking, but for a horse, that was not the most important thing.
He walked around Nornoth once and discovered that it was excessively tall. Its shoulder height was close to two meters, its head height around two and a half meters. Its ears were long and pointed, and its entire body was covered in black scales that were nearly indistinguishable to the naked eye, giving off a faint bluish sheen in the sunlight.
Along its neck grew a row of heavy neck plates like sword spines. When spread, they formed a fan shape that could protect its body.
A blunt protrusion sat on its forehead, like a horn for ramming. It was only a few centimeters long, but as hard as iron.
Its tail was long and slender, ending in a flattened, conical tip—pitch-black and looking quite impactful.
At that moment, the die turned lightly and popped up Nornoth's attributes.
[Name: Nornoth]
Race: Fey (Large)
Level: 0
Experience: 0
Hit Point: 35
Alignment: Chaotic Neutral
[Strength: 18]
[Dexterity: 14]
[Constitution: 16]
[Intelligence: 6]
[Wisdom: 11]
[Charisma: 13]
Life Link: When either the master or the mount regains Hit Point, the other also regains the same amount of Hit Points. Life Link is severed when the distance exceeds two meters.
Fey Bloodline: Nornoth cannot be put to sleep by magical effects, and has advantage when resisting charm or mind-affecting spells.
Psychic Slam: When Nornoth attacks, it also deals 2 + 1d8 (1–8) psychic damage.
Fey Step: Spell-like ability. Nornoth teleports with its master to any location within 36 meters, once per day.
Unlike before, Nornoth's character sheet was quite detailed.
"Maybe it has something to do with the soul contract," Anser guessed.
He touched Nornoth's blunt horn and said in surprise, "You're actually a Fey?"
He knew about fey dragons, but this was the first time he had seen a fey horse. It looked strange, yet it was indeed spirited and imposing.
A fey horse was a Fey, and a fey dragon was a dragon. The creatures of this world were just that wondrous.
Nornoth's attributes were very good. Aside from its Intelligence being painfully low and its Wisdom being average, its other attributes were all quite high.
Its traits and skills were also quite practical. Psychic Slam hit even harder than Anser's Sorcery Burst; the downside was that it could only be used in melee.
Fey Step was a lifesaving divine skill. Even if he accidentally fell into an abyss, there was still a chance to teleport out.
All things considered, Nornoth's combat power was comparable to that of a novice professional.
Although he had not contracted the flying mount he had dreamed of, Anser was still very satisfied, circling Nornoth and touching and inspecting it again and again.
Nornoth thought Anser was playing a game with it and excitedly pranced back and forth.
Nearby, Bratt and Finn were already staring in astonishment.
Bratt stepped forward two paces. "This is…?"
"It's called Nornoth, from the Feywild—my mount, hehe…" Anser's smile never broke.
Seeing the two approach, Nornoth snorted, lifted a hoof, and scraped the ground twice, showing some resistance.
Anser hurriedly soothed it through their mental link. "They're my teammates. This is Bratt, and this is Finn."
The two of them were full of envy. Who could understand the value of having a mount in the wilderness—especially a fey horse?
Bratt said in amazement, "It's so tall. Really beautiful."
"Stylish!" Finn said concisely.
Nornoth understood Common. It raised its head slightly, and its gaze toward the two softened considerably.
"Let's run a couple of laps."
Anser waved to Bratt and Finn, swung himself up onto Nornoth, carefully grasped its neck plates, and with a thought, Nornoth set off at a brisk walk.
Anser had never ridden a horse before, and without a saddle he clamped his legs tightly, half-prone on the horse's back, trembling with caution, his posture far from elegant.
Fortunately, rider and mount were linked mind to mind. His sense of balance and coordination were decent, and he gradually began to feel a bit of the pleasure of riding.
Nornoth was very tall. Sitting atop it gave him a wide view; his body rose and fell with the horse's back, the wind rushing toward him, giving him a sensation of freely dancing, of flying low through the air.
After riding for more than half an hour, he returned to the woodland clearing.
Bratt came over. This time Nornoth did not show hostility, but it still did not allow him to touch it.
"Ah—why doesn't it like me either?" he said, both envious and dejected.
Anser tied the group's packs together and placed them on Nornoth's back, comforting him. "It's just not familiar yet…"
"All right."
The group set off again, but this time lightly equipped and far more at ease.
Nornoth was strong and robust. Even carrying Anser and more than a hundred kilograms of gear, its steps remained light and steady.
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