Perched motionlessly on a leafy treetop, Leon stared down at a small troop of Doxies foraging below. Beside him, the thirty-six Doxies bound to his pact quietly spread their wings, their sharp fangs glinting in the faint forest light. They were poised for action, awaiting their master's command.
After consuming the spirit essences of the Shrike and the Runespoor, he had been thrilled to discover a significant boost in his magical power. He could now form pacts with up to ten wild Doxies a day, a night-and-day difference in efficiency. In just a few short days, he had carefully expanded his pact-bound team.
Whether it was due to absorbing his essence blood or the influence of the "Primordial Magic Tower," any fist-sized Doxy he tamed would grow to the size of an owl after spending some time in the tower's space. They would also grow two sharp fangs, one on each side of their mouth, and their antennae would become tougher and more menacing. Their combat prowess was far greater than that of their ordinary wild counterparts.
Leon had tested it a few times and found that his pact-bound Doxies were much more aggressive. When facing wild Doxies, they could easily handle five or six at once, let alone a one-on-one fight.
The foraging troop below numbered over a hundred, flying sluggishly and in a disorganized formation as they searched for food. Some were flipping over rotting leaves to find beetles, some were gnawing on a type of juicy magical plant, and others were pecking at dead trees, looking for Bowtruckle nests.
Seeing the foragers becoming more and more spread out, Leon seized his chance. He divided his thirty-six Doxies into six teams of six. Keeping one team back for his personal protection, he ordered the rest to strike, ambushing their unprepared brethren.
Under Leon's command, thirty ferocious Doxies shot out like lightning. After a successful strike that incapacitated a wild Doxy, they would immediately switch targets. Meanwhile, Leon would slide quickly down the tree, bite his finger, and press a drop of blood onto the foreheads of the injured wild Doxies.
Over the past few days, he had discovered by chance that it was easier to form a pact with an injured magical creature. The more severe the injury, the less magical power and essence blood it required. At his current power level, he could only tame ten uninjured Doxies a day, but if they were seriously wounded, he could manage several dozen without a problem.
He also found that no matter how gravely a creature was injured, as long as the pact was successful, it would make a full recovery after a few days of rest inside the "Primordial Magic Tower." It seemed the dense magical mist within the tower had healing properties. However, this only applied to newly pact-bound creatures. Once they were tamed, his companions recovered from injuries much more slowly. It was like Muggle antibiotics: highly effective the first time, but with diminishing returns afterward.
The wild Doxies were caught completely off guard by the powerful assault, often sustaining heavy injuries before they could even react. The few that did manage to fight back were no match for their mutated, pact-bound kin and were either bitten in half or torn to shreds by their sharp fangs.
Soon, under Leon's command, the entire wild troop was annihilated. Aside from the thirty or so unlucky ones torn to pieces, the rest were successfully bound to his pact and taken into the "Primordial Magic Tower" to recuperate.
Having expended a great deal of magical power and essence blood, Leon's face was pale. He caught his breath for a few moments before quickly leaving the area to avoid being discovered by a larger swarm. Once at a safe distance, he sent his pact-bound Doxies to hunt, which served both to feed them a variety of wild game and to further train their coordinated combat skills. Occasionally, after taking down a low-level magical creature, he could absorb its spirit essence to replenish his own power.
And so, his days fell into a routine. When he was tired, he would send his Doxies to hunt, refining and consuming the prey's spirit essence. When his energy was restored, he would go looking for more wild Doxies to tame. At night, he would meditate, cultivating the esoteric taming art. At first, the magical power circulating in his body was barely perceptible, but after some time, it grew into a rushing, ceaseless current.
A little over a month later, Leon had adapted to the law of the jungle in the Forbidden Forest. He now commanded a pact-bound army of over two thousand savage Doxies that would strip a man to the bone. Gradually, he stopped frequenting the Doxy nest.
It wasn't that he'd had a change of heart, but rather that the remaining Doxies had become more vigilant. Forget lone individuals; even small foraging parties were a rare sight. They either huddled in their nests all day or emerged in massive, dark swarms, giving him no opportunity to strike.
With sufficient defensive strength, Leon began to head toward the outer edge of the forest, hoping to finally leave the sprawling woods behind. Along the way, he sent out numerous Doxies as scouts. If they spotted a powerful beast he couldn't defeat, he would steer clear. If they encountered something they could easily overwhelm, he would command his army to attack in waves. The journey was perilous but manageable.
One day, after walking for several hours, Leon stopped near a small lake to rest before continuing. According to the Doxies' memories, it seemed he could get out of this vast forest by heading consistently west.
Near the lake, a group of Pygmy Puffs with dandelion-like fur were chasing each other playfully. Their lychee-sized eyes rolled as they watched him, but Leon had no interest in them. After all, no matter how delicious their meat was, you could get sick of anything.
"Kill them!"
Just as Leon was about to squat down and wash his face, the sounds of a battle reached him from a distance. As low-level magical creatures, Doxies could understand simple commands, and through their memories, Leon had quickly picked up this common language of the magical world.
He moved silently to the scene and hid himself in the dense canopy of a tree. Not far off was a wide clearing where a group of black-robed wizards on flying mounts were swooping and diving, viciously attacking a panicked herd of horse-bodied creatures—Centaurs.
The dark wizards rode two types of mounts; aside from a few calf-sized Griffins, the rest were all Hippogriffs.
According to the Doxies' memories, Hippogriffs were fast but not particularly aggressive. Griffins, on the other hand, were terrifying—not only fast but also immensely powerful. A single swipe of their claws could tear a huge chunk of flesh from a strong centaur, leaving it gravely wounded, if not dead.
Leveraging their superior mobility and powerful charges, the black-robed wizards roared as they waved their wands, firing off a barrage of dark curses. At the same time, the centaurs, under the command of an elder, fought back fiercely. Their arrows were as precise as falling stars. With every whistling shot, a dark wizard would be struck and fall from the sky. The centaurs' lightning speed and deadeye aim were impossible for the wizards to defend against, and the battle was a brutal stalemate.
Dark wizards hunting centaurs?
Leon shook his head and released all two thousand of his bloodthirsty Doxies from the "Primordial Magic Tower." He sent a hundred out to scout the surroundings while the rest remained by his side as a precaution against a surprise attack.
Suddenly, Leon's eyes lit up. From behind the elder centaur, a young, black-haired female centaur emerged. Her figure was graceful, her long hair flowed freely, and she held a staff of white birch tipped with a moonstone. In the dappled forest light, she appeared both holy and beautiful.
She held her staff and murmured for a moment, then raised her hand and sent out a ring of black light. Wherever the ring passed, the dark wizards' movements became sluggish, as if they were trapped in a bog. One by one, they were picked off by the centaurs' precise arrows.
"Quick, get the Seeress!" an enraged young man who appeared to be the leader shouted after losing several of his men. Immediately, a team of elite dark wizards charged madly toward the female centaur.
Seeing the murderous wizards rushing toward her, the female centaur took a few nervous steps back and once again began to whisper to her staff. A powerful wave of magic rippled through the air. It was followed by a series of deep, groaning creaks as several nearby towering trees transformed, becoming ten-meter-tall giants made of wood.
Under the female centaur's command, the Treants strode heavily toward the dark wizards. With a single swing of their barrel-sized fists, they smashed wizards and their mounts into a bloody pulp.
Transfiguration? Or… an illusion?
Leon rubbed his eyes, staring in disbelief at the living Treant giants that had once been towering trees.