Rayder carefully slid off Im's back, landing softly on the rocky ledge outside the Red Dragon's lair. He stood to the side, quietly observing the scene in front of him—a rare, almost surreal sight. Three dragons, each unique in their presence, were gathered together: the mighty and healthy Black Dragon Im, the aged and battered yet still majestic Red Dragon, and the lively, golden-scaled Kidora, whose three tiny heads flicked about with curiosity and excitement.
The air was thick with heat, the charred scent of roasted Sandworm meat mingling with the iron tang of blood. It wasn't exactly a welcoming aroma, but it certainly suited the current company.
Rayder knew the dragons had to eat their fill first. Only when their primal hunger was sated could he proceed with what truly mattered—gaining the Red Dragon's trust.
He stood still, his arms folded behind his back, his gaze calmly scanning the ancient creature. The Red Dragon was a creature forged through the fires of time and torment. Winning over such a beast would not be simple. Feeding it was a good first step, but far from enough. His task wasn't just to befriend the dragon—it was to form a soul-binding contract. One that could only be achieved through mutual will and respect.
The system's cold notification had already reminded him earlier:
> "Only with the dragon's willing approval can a contract be sealed. No force. No deception. Willing submission only."
Which meant, no matter how strong he was or how many tricks he had, he needed to earn this dragon's trust. Maybe even its… friendship.
That was a daunting thought. Rayder let out a quiet breath, his expression firming.
The Red Dragon, despite its sickly state, wasn't stupid. In fact, Rayder suspected it was even more intelligent than Im. He likely understood human language, perhaps even far better than anyone gave him credit for. But understanding wasn't the issue—communication was. And actions, Rayder knew, spoke far louder than words.
That's when the answer became clear.
To gain his trust, Rayder would have to cure him.
The curse that had plagued the Red Dragon for who knew how long—causing its scales to rot, its wings to wither, and its strength to fade—had to be lifted. Only then, perhaps, would the dragon be able to look at Rayder not as a stranger, but as someone worthy of his allegiance.
With that decision in mind, Rayder opened the system space. He pulled out his longsword and, along with it, a goblet that looked ancient—an artifact from some long-forgotten age.
Without hesitation, he drew the blade across his palm.
The sharp steel cut deep, and warm crimson blood spilled forth, dripping rhythmically into the goblet. The cup began to fill, glowing faintly from the potency of what it held—his own life essence, now infused with Kidora's blessing.
He watched as his blood swirled within the goblet, shimmering faintly in the sunlight. It was a mixture of human resilience and divine enhancement. His healing factor had improved dramatically—he noticed this. The wound on his hand had already started sealing, faster than even yesterday. Kidora's bond was growing stronger, amplifying his vitality and regeneration. A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth.
He placed the longsword back into the system space and wrapped his now-healed palm. With the goblet of blood in hand, he slowly approached the resting Red Dragon.
The massive beast had finished feeding and was now sprawled on the ground, his head lowered to the side, one half-closed eye watching Rayder with a mix of caution and weary curiosity.
Rayder hesitated just a moment, remembering the last time he got close. Back then, the dragon had allowed him to touch its snout. He hoped the same would happen again.
He reached out slowly and gently placed his hand on the dragon's nose. The skin was rough like cracked stone, but warm beneath the surface. The Red Dragon emitted a low growl—not threatening, just warning—but didn't move.
"Easy, old friend," Rayder said softly. "I brought something for you… something that might take away that pain."
With his free hand, he gently patted the dragon's snout again and then gestured for it to open its mouth.
At first, the Red Dragon did nothing, clearly puzzled by the strange request. But after a moment, it tilted its head slightly, studied Rayder for a long beat… and then, slowly, warily, opened its mouth.
The inside was dark, vast, and hot—like staring into a blazing furnace. A heavy stench of sulfur and rot wafted out, nearly making Rayder gag.
He steeled himself and poured the blood carefully into the beast's maw. The liquid glowed as it disappeared into the darkness of the dragon's throat.
The Red Dragon made a low rumbling noise, a guttural sound from deep within, as if its body were reacting violently—but not yet resisting.
Rayder quickly stepped back, watching closely for any sudden reaction.
As he moved away, he felt a familiar warmth at his back. Turning, he found Im pressing his enormous head gently against him. The Black Dragon let out a low, satisfied rumble, clearly content after the shared meal with Kidora.
Rayder chuckled and patted Im's snout affectionately. "You're in a good mood today, huh?"
But his attention quickly returned to the Red Dragon. Something was happening.
He held his breath.
Almost immediately after the blood was swallowed, Rayder heard something strange—a faint, eerie sound. A scream. No, not a scream—a wail. It echoed not in his ears but in his mind, like the cry of a tortured soul being dragged away.
It lasted barely a second. When he tried to listen again, the sound had vanished. He shook his head. Had it been his imagination?
But whatever he heard or didn't hear, the effects were real.
The Red Dragon's body began to change before his eyes.
Where the skin had once been flaking, dull, and festering, now the crimson scales were beginning to brighten—just slightly at first, then more rapidly. The tarnished armor of his body regained its sheen, as though life was being pumped back into him with each passing second.
The grotesque tumors that had once made him look more monster than dragon began to shrink—slowly, then faster—melting like snow under the sun. Foul growths that had plagued him for decades evaporated into wisps of black mist.
"It's working," Rayder whispered, his hands clenched into fists. "It's actually working!"
He stood motionless for the next half hour, watching intently as the transformation continued.
The Red Dragon's decaying flesh wings, though still bearing scars and signs of long-term damage, were no longer rotting. The blackened edges had vanished. Pus and rot were replaced by clean sinew, hardened veins, and signs of new tissue regenerating.
More than just his body, his aura had changed.
Gone was the oppressive, deathly stench of a cursed beast. Now, in its place was something far more majestic—a battle-scarred veteran, cleansed by pain and reborn in fire.
The countless scars left behind by years of combat and suffering crisscrossed his body like a warrior's tattoos, telling stories of survival.
Yet the most startling change came from his eyes.
They were no longer clouded or dim. They blazed with intensity, like molten lava beneath volcanic glass. Two pools of golden-red fury, wisdom, and soul.
They weren't just eyes. They were watching Rayder.
Studying him.
Evaluating him.
Rayder felt a chill crawl up his spine—not from fear, but from sheer awe.
This was no longer a dying creature struggling to stay alive.
This was a sovereign beast reborn. A true ancient dragon who had tasted death and come back stronger.
And he was staring straight into the heart of the man who had freed him.
Rayder swallowed, then slowly dropped to one knee—not in fear, but in respect. He didn't say a word. Words weren't necessary.
The Red Dragon's gaze lingered on him for a long while.
Then, with a soft snort, the dragon slowly laid its head down—not in exhaustion, but in calm acknowledgment. His body relaxed, eyes narrowing slightly, the fire within dimming to an ember of peace.
Rayder stood up, a smile breaking across his face.
The first step had been taken.
The wall had been breached.
He hadn't won the Red Dragon's allegiance yet, but he had earned something far more valuable—his respect.
And in the world of dragons, that was the seed from which unbreakable loyalty could grow.
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