Shadow grabbed a rusty iron feed bucket—an improvised weapon—and hurled it, not at the Drake's body, but at the ground near its feet. It successfully captured the B-Rank Sentinel's molten gaze.
The Drake shifted, momentarily exposing the massive, bleeding gash on its flank.
"Now, Borin! DPS it!" Shadow screamed.
Borin, stunned by the sudden, sharp command from the shop kid, reacted purely on instinct, throwing a last, desperate blast of flame magic. It struck the Drake's wounded flank.
The B-Rank Sentinel shrieked in agony. Its spirit, already broken by the ambush, collapsed under the final blow. It crumpled against the remains of a public message board.
Shadow darted forward, his movements far faster than his pathetic Speed 12 should allow, fueled by sheer, analytical desperation. He slammed his palm—the one bearing the invisible Void Seal—firmly against the Drake's cooling scales.
He emptied his soul, pouring his remaining 15 Aether Reserves into the Compact. The Aether around him violently collapsed inward.
"I offer you the Compact. Submit, and be preserved."
The Void Seal flared. It was a brilliant, blinding cyan flash that lasted only a moment, but it was a perfect, silent manifestation of divine power. The Mountain Drake's mind found the only anchor available: the cold, calculating will of Shadow. The bond snapped into place.