The morning after his eighteenth birthday, a strange flow of information suddenly flooded his mind.
"Conditions met. Beast Spirit System activated!"
"First Stage Summoning function unlocked! Summoning Array acquired."
Nayse spun in excitement—finally, the transmigrator's golden finger had arrived. But the system information was extremely brief, containing only one summoning skill and a complex array pattern.
According to the prompts, he needed to first draw the array and place beast fur or blood as a medium. Nayse directly used material from the most common creature in the dwarven village, placing a tuft of ram wool at the array's center.
"Summon!" he called out quietly.
Blue-violet light erupted from the array, gradually enveloping the entire pattern. With a sheep's bleat, the light faded, and an exceptionally large spiral-horned ram appeared in the center of the array. Its horns were twice as thick as ordinary members of its species, with brown and white coloring and intelligent eyes.
With a thought from Nayse, the ram obediently knelt. He vaulted onto its back and rode in circles around the room, controlling the mount completely at will.
The system indicated that summoning consumed mental energy, but Nayse felt no fatigue. Summoned beasts required no food or rest, and if injured or killed, he could simply dismiss the summon and call it again after an hour. After the first successful summoning, the ram's information was recorded by the system, requiring no further array drawing.
Unfortunately, the first stage only allowed contracting one beast. Nayse reluctantly named his mount "Ferrari," consoling himself that at least he had free labor.
The dwarves easily accepted Nayse's explanation of beast summoning, even determining he was a descendant of nature spirits with druidic powers. Through their time together, Nayse increasingly appreciated the subtle minds beneath the dwarves' rough exteriors. This race not only possessed exquisite forging skills but also saw people and situations with exceptional clarity.
On the day of departure, the dwarven Grand Elder solemnly handed Nayse a mithril token: "You have your own destiny to fulfill. A young man shouldn't be trapped in these deep mountains—there isn't even a human girl to be found here."
The token was only maple-leaf sized, carved with patterns of mountains, hammers, and ram horns. The mithril material was warm as jade, extremely light, with mysterious luster flowing across its surface.
"This is too precious," Nayse protested. He had long heard legends of mithril.
"A gift given is never taken back," the Grand Elder insisted. "The Greyrock Clan grows weaker by the day and may eventually vanish into history. As a friend of the dwarves, we hope that when you make your mark in the world, you won't forget to tell the stories of the dwarven people."
Nayse gripped the token tightly, feeling the weight of their trust. The dwarves weren't trying to buy promises with precious metal—they only hoped for sincere remembrance.
After packing his belongings, Nayse headed west following the dwarves' directions. Ten days later, he reached Stone Town at the easternmost edge of the Hiss Empire, beginning a new life with his blacksmithing skills.