Zmey raised his palm to Aura's eye level, his thoughts dark and heavy. 'I'm just a pawn in their scheme. I still don't understand why he framed my father or threw me into this chaos. My life means nothing—just a weak, damned human who dies immediately after respawning. I'll end this now.'
A familiar thrill coursed through his body. As he closed his eyes, he saw blood dripping onto the haze-covered surface below. In the vision, the injured one held his hand high, a red cloak billowing behind him. The air whistled around two figures standing at the center of the throne room.
Blood fell relentlessly, yet the crimson beast maintained his raised hand before the man facing him. The other person stood slender and ready, a headband across his forehead and a large axe at his side. The creature clutched a peculiar dagger—its handle woven from thick cobwebs, a crimson gemstone glowing within.
Multiple visions of the same ritual with different participants flashed through Zmey's mind.
Opening his eyes, he felt the cold air against his face. He raised his left hand, mirroring the memory. His heart pounded—the bloodshot dragon had never doubted its power, sometimes reaching beyond mortal limitations.
'I shouldn't doubt. I am him now, his power flows through me. The power will come when called...'
A sharp chill shot from his legs upward. Despite his attempt to hide it, the shiver was visible to Aura. Yet she merely raised her eyebrows slightly, showing only mild curiosity at his reaction.
Before he could act, he felt something cold gripped tightly in his other hand—the one not raised to the white dragon's eye level. His gaze darted downward, and immediately, a red gleam cast dull light across his face. Though unexpected, the sensation felt familiar, as if he'd held this dagger countless times before.
The handle's rough texture pressed against his skin—the same material the red dragon had used to slice his palm in the vision.
Heat rose in his chest as understanding dawned. He would need to cut his palm as well.
'I can't believe I'm following this madness. No wonder that dragon achieved a third-rank mage body—he clearly embraced insanity. I've lost count of how many times he performed this ritual.'
Yet something about the blood-letting felt essential. His mind buzzed with fragments of knowledge—insights, reasons, implications. The fire emperor must have had a compelling purpose. No wonder this was his first action when entrusting responsibility to Aura.
Without hesitation, Zmey raised the dagger and drew it across his palm. Red liquid coated the blade as the scar stretched from one end to the other. He set the dagger aside and met Aura's gaze. She squared her shoulders, standing straighter.
As blood dripped steadily onto the surface below, Zmey's thoughts crystallized. 'The Blood Oath binds its participants to an unbreakable fate. They must abandon all else to fulfill their sworn word. They will because they must.'
'My plan's success will cost my life. I'm acting in my own interest, but what of the dragon? I seized his soul, body, and memories, only to face new sorrows and cause fresh disasters. He had his own wishes, his responsibilities, his legacy to leave behind. He became tangled in my ninefold journey through his misdeeds, yet that doesn't make him deserving of this fate.
I should protect his realm, but that path is closed to me now. Still, I can't simply vanish. I must ensure someone capable carries his legacy forward. Aura—she may not realize it, but Zmey always trusted her. He saw her as his potential successor if he failed to reach the highest stage of dark magic cultivation.'
His gaze lingered on the wound across his palm. The ancient words flowed from his lips, each syllable precise and powerful:
"By the blood that binds. Through fate, unyielding. I sever my will to forge this bond. Let no shadow break, no time to forget. This vow is etched in a crimson tide. What I swear, I must fulfill. For the blood remembers, and the soul commands."
He lifted his eyes to meet Aura's. Her expression held tenderness and reserve, while his blazed with determination. This moment marked a crucial step for Zmey, proving that his humanity remained despite the weight of mysteries he'd witnessed.
Tension thickened the air. After the final word of the mantra, an immense weight settled in his legs, sinking deep into his bone marrow. His outstretched hand felt pulled by an unseen force, as if an invisible thread stretched between them, forming a bond stronger than mere words could forge.
Aura swallowed hard. She had witnessed the emperor perform this Blood Oath with numerous Transformers from various fire creature classes in the Infernosphere. While Transformers were rare among beasts, their numbers still reached into the thousands, given the vast population of creatures.
Among fire creatures, the dragon lineage claimed only two Transformers—those capable of assuming human form. These two were the dragon emperor himself and his confidant. Other lineages boasted slightly higher numbers.
She had seen it all. Sometimes, she'd escorted oath-takers from the palace after their binding. Those who failed to fulfill their sworn duties forfeited their lives after their final chance expired. Some returned to Zmey Ashbane's palace, begging for more time as their ultimatum approached. They'd received their wished-for power but failed their assigned tasks.
'He spared no one who broke their word...'
A shiver ran through Aura's frame. The Blood Oath served as his greatest weapon, one only he could wield. Life and death of all who participated lay in his hands.
'His methods may have seemed ruthless, but he sought only fairness. Though I gain nothing in return, I will make this oath!'
"Are you certain you want to…?" Zmey began.
"I will do it!" Aura cut in. "Please proceed!"
Zmey's mouth fell open, his eyes widening slightly. He quickly composed himself.
"Very well," he said, features settling back to neutrality. "Place your hand over mine. Swear to protect the realm in my absence, but remember—speak only what you can truly fulfill. No false promises..."
Without hesitation, Aura placed her hand over his. Blood bound their palms together, creating soft crackling sounds with each slight movement.
Her voice rang clear and strong: "I, Aura DrakeBorn, hereby swear at the expense of my life, amidst this crimson bond, to defend the realm during the emperor's seclusion. From this moment, I dedicate my cultivation and practice to the realm's protection. All inferno creatures shall benefit from my intelligence, insight, healing powers, and defensive skills. I shall face even the gods should they threaten our security. This I swear!"
"I warned you against impossible promises," Zmey said, his tone carrying a note of concern.
Aura's eyes flashed with determination. "Still, I promise you. I will!"
Zmey nodded grimly. 'What a remarkable character,' he thought, gently turning their joined hands so his rested on top, sealing the oath. A vibratory thrum pulsed between their palms.
A mark appeared on Aura's forehead, bringing a momentary sting that barely drew a flinch from her. The symbol glowed with dull, fiery light for two heartbeats before fading. Zmey studied the design—an erect sword entwined by a dark, reptilian creature. At first glance, it resembled a dragon, but looking closer, it transformed into a serpent poised to strike.
'We're finished here,' Zmey thought, withdrawing his hand. Aura rubbed her forehead, showing no sign of discomfort.
Everything was resolved save one final step. His heart hammered against his ribs, though he couldn't tell if from excitement at approaching freedom or anxiety about the pain ahead. Being tamed on Earth held no certainties. The humans had witnessed his destruction and knew his capacity for devastation. The Beast Exorcists would emerge as heroes, certainly using their most powerful spells and weapons against him. The pain would likely surpass anything he'd experienced before.
'No other options remain... I must face what comes.'
He offered Aura a gentle smile. Before walking past, he squeezed her shoulder briefly. While other beasts used the Pathway—a bridge between Earth and the Infernosphere—Zmey knew he had no need for it. The Pathway offered magnificent views of the fiery realm, but what use were such sights to one who possessed a Wraithbound Mage Body?
A sorcerer with such an enigmatic form could slip between planes effortlessly.
Aura spun around suddenly, her face etched with a mix of curiosity, anxiety, and fear.
"Where are you headed, Lord Zmey? I can accompany you."
Zmey halted a few feet from the golden door he'd first seen upon waking in this body. He turned back grimly.
"Earth," he said simply, then added, "You told me to rest."
Aura stepped forward unconsciously, eyes widening. "You're going to Earth alone? Don't you know how dangerous…"
"It isn't dangerous anymore," Zmey interrupted. A shadow crossed his expression, but he quickly masked it with a reassuring grin. "I'm only going to rest. Besides, I need to study those I wish to forge treaties with. How better to learn their behavior than from close observation? You're making me doubt your judgment already."
His eyes sparkled with gentle humor. "Don't worry. I've learned to conceal my dragon horns."
With a final smile, he turned away. Now one challenge remained: how to activate the mage body's unique ability.
He scowled at the empty air before him.
Aura watched intently. 'Why isn't he moving?'
Zmey stared blankly at his surroundings, searching for any clue to wielding this power. But he saw only endless clouds on both sides and the intricate designs of the throne room.
'Curse it... why does the dragon's memory come to me in such fragments?'
Aura drew closer, studying his rigid posture. "Did you... have a change of heart? Perhaps you should…"
'I need to use the Wraithbound Body's ability to cross between planes. Why can't I access it?'
"…be heading to the Pathway. Why aren't you moving?"
Zmey's frown deepened. Why was she mentioning the Pathway? As the dragon's closest friend, surely she knew he had no need for it. The memory surfaced clearly now—he didn't require such mundane methods...
Aura's heart pounded. 'He said he's going to Earth. The next step should be the Pathway. That's what we all use...'
The silence stretched taut between them.
'Transport me to Earth...' Just as the thought formed, he felt it—something spreading from deep within. The sensation swelled, as if his very essence expanded...
Shew!
"Your Majesty!" Aura's cry echoed through the chamber.
But Zmey Ashbane had vanished. Only dark specks drifting in the air marked where he had stood.
She clenched her jaw, fingers curling into fists. "No! Has he forgotten the prohibition against teleporting through the mage body's ability? He never attempted this before. Why now?"
The question hung unanswered in the empty throne room, dark motes slowly settling in the still air.