A collective misunderstanding sunk the atmosphere into silence. Drake was internally questioning whether the name he haphazardly chose was problematic, while Ariella pondered why she had summoned an ancient dragon from some distant plane of existence—a wonder made all the more inexplicable by the successful establishment of a contract between them.
'Drake, what's going on? Did something malfunction with you, AI?'
Drake was no fool. He coolly examined the intricate patterns beneath him, which seemed to form a magical array, even if he couldn't decipher their meaning. The idea of a dragon that relied on technology for interdimensional travel ending up in a magic circle was utterly unbelievable.
[My apologies, Host! To traverse dimensions, precise coordinates and a stable construction of a passageway are required, both of which demand vast amounts of energy. My own power reserves were insufficient for such a journey. When passing through the dimensional tunnel, I detected a divine response from the world of Saint Soren and used it to establish a connection, constructing the path we took. Fortunately, Host, we arrived in this world without mishap.]
The AI's matter-of-fact response caused veins to bulge on Drake's forehead.
'So you thoughtlessly zoomed in on a strange coordinate because you wanted to save energy?'
[Yes, Host! It was the optimal choice at the time.]
'Optimal my tail!'
At that moment, Drake wanted to curse out loud. This so-called supreme intelligence seemed more like the pinnacle of idiocy. He'd had a straightforward plan: hide in a remote place in this magic world, evolve using its magical energy, and return to Earth as soon as possible. Safety was his top priority.
But this 'intelligent' entity, more of an imbecile, had leaped through dimensions at the first sight of an unfamiliar coordinate without considering the dangers that awaited them, such as arriving someplace lethal at first glance.
From his current assessment, he seemed to have landed in the realm of elves—a pleasant sight, to be sure, but a far cry from his original plan.
'From today onwards, you're 'Dunce' to me.'
[...]
The AI fell silent and didn't retort.
'What's the deal with this contract?'
Drake was aware of a contract between himself and the woman claiming to be the Elven Queen. It was an equal pact, hence his divine core hadn't protested, and he had instinctively felt the contract was significant, so he had agreed to it without much thought. In retrospect, that instinct must have been his magical creature self's elation at finding this world's coordinates and his longing to arrive here.
[The contract is a unique power of this world, unfathomable even to Tyren's science. The signatories of a contract must fulfill their respective obligations, or else pay a severe price. Not even the gods of this world can easily nullify a contract.]
Despite being labeled 'Dunce,' the AI still served some purpose, providing Drake with a slight edge in understanding this magical world, albeit a limited one.
'Now I've got to fulfill the contract, too. How bothersome.'
Drake was quite vexed. He knew the terms of the contract, which was why he had agreed to it in the first place.
The deal with Ariella was straightforward: she provided divine energy for Drake to descend onto this continent, and in return, Drake would secure victory in her war.
Interestingly, Drake's name in the contract initially consisted of just two Chinese characters, but after his impromptu self-introduction, it had somehow morphed into that cumbersome, lengthy name, as if the world itself had recognized and affirmed it as his true name.
'Ariella' was indeed the Queen's given name, as contracts cannot lie. However, her surname seemed to be deliberately obscured within the contract, visible only as a blurred image—reasons unknown for her reluctance to reveal it.
Nonetheless, these matters weren't for Drake to ponder at the moment. Even though he had spoken with the AI for a bit and had many thoughts swirling in his head, to the others, he had merely been silently contemplating the Elven Queen for a few seconds.
"Your Majesty Ariella, I am cognizant of the contract. The honor of a dragon cannot be tarnished by any race. Since thou hast paid thy price, I shall honor our agreement and bring thee victory."
Thank goodness Drake had read countless juvenile novels; he knew how to feign composure as he spoke. However, his voice, rather than youthful, resonated with an effortless authority, whitening the faces of the surrounding elves who staggered at the mere sound of it. It seemed his words alone exerted a substantial pressure on them.
Drake realized, after speaking, how taxing it felt on his body, even the divine core within his soul quivering. After consulting his newly awakened instincts, he discovered this 'Language of the Dragons' was actually divine speech, every syllable laden with immense power, barely speakable without divine backing.
Ariella trembled slightly, but she fared far better than the other elves. Receiving Drake's affirmative response, she bowed slightly as her melodious voice, akin to a singing stream, flowed once more.
"Thank you for your generosity and assistance, Lord Galakrond..."
This time, the Queen refrained from using the divine tongue and opted for Elven instead, obviously straining from the effort of speaking such a sacred language.
Drake felt somewhat uncomfortable with Ariella's form of address. After all, it wasn't the name he had grown up with.
'Dunce, this mess is your making, so figure out what to do. Can I win a fight in my current state?'
Drake was utterly unfamiliar with warfare in another world. He wasn't a fully grown dragon; how could he win a war while still a fledgling?
[Rest assured, Host. Upon deciding to use this contract as our coordinate, I had already devised a foolproof plan. Your divine core still holds a substantial amount of divine power. By utilizing the energy stored within the divine crystal, you can become a 'god' in this world for a short period, easily dictating the outcome of a war in this primitive civilization!]
AI's words eased Drake's anxiety, prompting a change in his demeanor.
'Not bad, baby!'
[...]
The AI remained silent.
Drake, now in high spirits, seamlessly adopted his new title.