Meanwhile, back at the villa, Dimitri Miller moved down the quiet hallway, his mind swirling with thoughts of the Pry members and their recent meeting. There was a certain smugness to them that unsettled him, and it left a bitter taste. He muttered to himself as he passed by each room.
"Soon enough... Young Lord must be cautious before taking further action, but I'll not let him face these snakes alone."
Dimitri's train of thought shifted to Arlon's recent dedication to his studies. It seemed that lately, Arlon had spent more time in the study, his focus unwavering, his complaints almost nonexistent.
Even the tea had gone untouched by criticism—a rare feat in itself, as Arlon usually had some complaints, especially on his difficult days. Perhaps, Dimitri thought, the black tea with its rich nutrients was finally making a difference, helping him focus and think more clearly.
With his young lord's health improving, Dimitri felt a newfound pride. "They underestimate him," he muttered, "but they'll regret it..."
Just then, Dimitri's eyes caught something by the window. A piece of paper lay on the floor, and an inexplicable sense of dread settled in his chest.
"What…?" He snatched it up quickly, eyes scanning the note. His expression darkened, heart racing as he realized its implications.
Without a moment's hesitation, he rushed toward the study room, yanking open the door. His eyes darted around the room until he noticed it—the missing book on the table. His heart sank. "The book…"
A new urgency gripped him, and he sprinted to Arlon's chambers, Dimitri strode through the quiet villa, the faint smell of black tea still lingering in the air. Something felt... off.
Throwing the door open without knocking. But the room was silent, and the bed untouched.
Dimitri's stomach twisted. "He's not here... Could it be...?"
Back in the stormy mountain cave, the atmosphere shifted. The wind steadied, the chaotic energy dissipating. The Soul Sky Guardian, still as a shadowy figure with piercing red eyes, stared at Arlon in utter disbelief.
"Are you joking right now?" the Guardian questioned, his tone heavy with skepticism. The idea of this frail human claiming he could "save" him seemed laughable.
"Huh? Um... Well, how about a 2-year contract, how about that?" Arlon offered, his voice tinged with a hint of surprise, as if realizing the words as he said them.
The dragon shifted backward, eyeing Arlon with disbelief. Anger flickered in his gaze, this weak human daring to strike a deal—this one he could squash with a single blow. But Arlon's offer lingered, making the Guardian pause in his frustration.
The dragon's voice rumbled like distant thunder. "A weakling like you dares to make demands? What can you offer that I would accept?"
Arlon swallowed hard, meeting the glowing red eyes despite the fear twisting in his gut. "Freedom," he said firmly. "A way out of this mountain—on your terms."
The Guardian's laughter was sharp and cold, like the crack of lightning. "Freedom? From a human?"
"Not from me. From them," Arlon said, gesturing vaguely toward the stormy skies outside. "You know what's coming. They won't stop until they bind you to their will."
The Guardian fell silent, its shadowy form rippling. "And you? You would be different?"
Arlon smirked faintly. "I just want to survive. You need someone, and so do I. A contract isn't submission—it's an alliance."
The Guardian seemed to sense something genuine in Arlon's resolve, but his suspicions held strong.
"Tell me your true intentions before I agree," the Guardian demanded, his voice deep and commanding.
Without a hint of hesitation, Arlon replied, "If that's what it takes to make you agree, all right. I'll tell you." His voice carried confidence, the resolve of someone determined to find a way to survive, no matter the cost.
He knew the stakes—without this pact, he'd return to the villa empty-handed, risking everything for a slim chance at escaping the entangling dangers of his fate. He began to explain, laying out his reasons, his needs, and his motives.
The Guardian listened intently, his piercing gaze unwavering. He hadn't expected this human to truly bear his intentions so fully, but he stayed silent, absorbing every word Arlon spoke.
The cave remained cloaked in darkness, but the first light of dawn hinted at the cave's mouth, casting a dim glow over Arlon and the dragon spirit. The Soul Sky Guardian, now thoroughly shocked, couldn't believe the human standing before him.
This mere mortal wanted a contract—not to harness his power, but simply to be by his side, to live a peaceful life despite the risks.
He must be insane, the dragon thought.
"I see," the Guardian finally spoke, his voice low. "So those people you spoke of, they're truly as vile as you say. And they're planning to make a contract with me to fight against the Empire."
"Not only the Empire," Arlon replied, his tone steady.
The dragon sighed, his voice thick with disbelief. "Fine, I'll accept your deal."
Arlon's eyes widened. "Do you believe me now?" he asked, still uncertain if the Soul Sky Guardian thought his words were anything more than foolishness.
The Guardian loomed closer, its crimson eyes narrowing. "You're bold for a mortal," it said, its voice laced with mockery. "Most would grovel for power, but you… You want my freedom?"
Arlon nodded, keeping his voice steady. "It's a fair deal. I help you; you help me. We survive together."
Even if you have that attitude, I can't let you go, Arlon thought. Not when others will come for you.
The Guardian stared at him for what felt like an eternity. Then, with a low growl, it spoke. "Very well, human. But heed this—I will not suffer fools lightly. Break our agreement, and I will destroy you."
A surge of dark energy swirled around Arlon, sealing the pact. He grinned faintly, though his heart still raced. "Deal."
Woooosh—
Suddenly, dark smoke began to spread around the cave. Arlon felt an ominous surge of power—a raw, destructive energy, like the calamity of a storm brewing in the heavens. Is he going to attack me!? Arlon thought, taking a cautious step back. The ground trembled subtly beneath his feet.
Shudder—
The Guardian's form shimmered, its crimson gaze burning brighter. "Your name, human. Speak it, so our pact can begin."
Arlon straightened, meeting the dragon's glare with steady resolve. "Arlon Throndsen."
As the Guardian roared its acceptance, the storm outside seemed to calm for just a moment.
Arlon couldn't help but smirk. "Let's see if this gamble pays off."
The dragon's voice cut through the air. "Give me a name."
"Huh?" Arlon blinked, murmuring, "A name..." He repeated the words softly, letting the request sink in.
Arlon's expression shifted as he considered. This name had to be more than a title—it had to capture the essence of this powerful being. It needed to be something unforgettable, something that symbolized the dragon's strength and uniqueness.
After a moment of thought, he said, "Ace."
The dragon tilted its head, red eyes narrowing as the cave grew eerily silent.
"Ace… That will do," it said finally, its tone carrying faint approval.
Swoosh—
A sudden gust filled the cave, but the wind wasn't violent; it swirled gently around him as if wrapping him in the dragon's essence. In the midst of it, a small purple light appeared, illuminating the cave with a soft yet intense glow.
Arlon's gaze fixed on the orb floating before him, its dark purple light casting ethereal shadows. "The Sky Dragon's soul," he whispered, mesmerized by the mystical sight.
The dragon's voice resounded with gravity, filling the space. "I'll be part of your soul once you accept me."
The orb pulsed gently, as if alive, and Ace's voice continued. "Once you accept the Sky Dragon Soul, you'll carry its power—calamity from the skies. It's a force of endless destruction, untamable unless you fully embrace it." The dark purple light moved closer, floating just within reach.
As Arlon reached out, he felt Ace's emotions through the bond forming between them—a mixture of happiness and fear, both subtle but undeniable.
He must be worried about something, Arlon thought, yet he could sense a strange warmth behind the Guardian's stoic mask.
Whoosh— Swoosh!—
The moment Arlon's fingers brushed the orb, a searing light shot straight into his chest, spiraling into his heart. All the black winds in the cave twisted together, swirling around him before getting absorbed entirely.
thump— thump— Thump—
"Urk!—" Arlon grunted, feeling the intense pulse of his own heartbeat as it throbbed in response to the Soul orb's power. A hot, almost burning sensation hit his chest, and he sucked in a breath, trying to calm himself.
With each slow inhale, something within him began to shift, filling an emptiness he hadn't even realized was there since awakening as Arlon Throndsen.
The hollow feeling in his body was easing, replaced by a strange vitality. It was disorienting—one part of him felt exhausted, as though he'd fought a hundred battles, but another part buzzed with fresh energy, eager to be unleashed.
With his eyes closed, he let himself sink into that renewed warmth, feeling just a trace of life filling what had once been an empty vessel.
He opened his eyes, momentarily dazed, but was quickly jolted out of his thoughts by a voice echoing in his mind.
"Because you can understand my language, I'll use it to talk to you," Ace's voice resounded in his mind, laced with a hint of amusement.
Arlon's eyebrows twitched. So he's already finding ways to talk directly into my head. Ignoring the dragon's sly tone, Arlon bent down, picking up his mask and adjusting it before heading for the cave exit.