Magic Stones and Apprentices

Ruger stepped forward and rapped his knuckles against the metal surface, producing a dull thud-thud.

The Aberrant Dragon Management Association had been quite thorough. In their eyes, this was no longer an ordinary aberrant dragon. An aberrant dragon that repeatedly violated regulations was effectively delivering itself into the Association's hands—albeit in an unconventional manner, placing itself in the position of property. Once its violations reached a certain threshold, the Association regarded it as its own property.

He looked at the blood-drawing trough on the metal apparatus beside him. The entire place looked like a room without a roof and missing two walls. He could imagine people once bustling around this aberrant dragon. And this was where that so-called thoroughness showed itself: the Aberrant Dragon Management Association's property could perish on its own, but it could not be quietly appropriated.

Thus, by leaving behind a secret art mark and several magic stones beside the blood-drawing trough, one could legitimately draw a certain amount of dragon blood. The dragon blood counted as payment for making the report.

As for how one reported it: once enough dragon blood had been drained, this ancient metal contraption would activate. The Aberrant Dragon Management Association would receive the message and come recover the lost aberrant dragon. At the same time, based on the secret art mark left behind, they would create a record for the reporter within the Association. In the future, should the reporter have legitimate experimental needs, they could apply for materials and receive a certain degree of discount. The exact extent depended on the number of aberrant dragons they had helped recover and their supervision rating.

"That should be enough, right?"

He muttered to himself, though what he was really considering was whether to leave his own secret art mark behind.

Would anyone dare challenge the authority of the Aberrant Dragon Management Association? For instance, by directly killing the aberrant dragon, or making a wound somewhere else, draining the dragon blood, and then running off—saving a few magic stones in the process.

"Saving a few magic stones wouldn't be bad..." he joked to himself. Not that he truly intended to go to the trouble of finding a spot without dragon scales, drilling into it, and bleeding himself just for a few magic stones. Besides, given the level at which the Aberrant Dragon Management Association operated, tracking down a lost aberrant dragon should not have been so troublesome that they needed someone to cooperate and report it. They should not have been unable to locate it—at least not one with the supervision rating before him.

"Great wizard, I still have several magic stones in my mouth. As long as you report this properly, I can give them to you..."

A semi-transparent draconic phantom, yellow tinged with black, floated nearby and spoke earnestly.

"Do not be afraid. This is merely the reluctant manifestation of my soul projection. I will not harm you. Even if you had not said those things, I would not have forcibly appeared to meet you," the draconic phantom said, its face full of resentment. "I am about to die. My heart has stopped beating for a long time. Though I am still considered alive now, it is only because my unusual physique is barely holding on. I want to wake up..."

The little kobold felt certain that newly grown fine hairs were drifting down from his spine.

In that instant, he also understood the Aberrant Dragon Management Association's twisted sense of humor. This was a taming method that cost little yet yielded remarkable results. Some died outside; some were recovered. Dragons were naturally proud, and difficult to discipline without killing them. This compromise kept both manpower and material costs at an extremely low level. Moreover, this method was likely only used on aberrant dragons with low supervision ratings, such as the one before him.

He made himself calm down.

This was the first conversation between the first kobold wizard of the underground caverns and a powerful dragon.

"Please do not address me that way. I am not a great wizard. I am merely a low-level wizard apprentice," Ruger said.

"Yes, wizard apprentice."

The draconic phantom repeated.

"There were many wizard apprentices in the Aberrant Dragon Management Association, serving those wizards every day. Sometimes they would climb onto my back, let out some blood, then feed me things afterward as a fair trade. Though I could not leave that tiny place, thinking back, that life was rather good. Only, people occasionally came to disturb my sleep. I remember one apprentice—I called her Susie. She would even give me shiny things in exchange for taking away the food given to me as compensation for drawing blood..."

"I liked her very much. I have not seen her in a long time. She smelled of thorny ghostflower blossoms, a scent I liked. I wonder whether she is still alive. She said she wanted to become a wizard. Judging by how long I have slept, if she did not succeed, she is probably no longer around..."

As it spoke, the draconic phantom glanced at Ruger again.

"You will have my friendship as well. If you need anything, you may tell me. You can also come find me later. You do not need to go through the Aberrant Dragon Management Association—come to my territory. I can give you some dragon blood and dragon scales," the draconic phantom said.

Ruger stepped forward, intending to take out the magic stones and try operating the metal contraption.

But the draconic phantom flashed forward and blocked his path.

"Are you leaving already? Aren't you taking some fresh, warm dragon blood back with you?" The draconic phantom seemed somewhat anxious.

"I want the blood of a true dragon, but you do not have wings."

A thought stirred in Ruger's mind, and he began spinning nonsense. His hand also moved away from his storage pouch as he tried to squeeze more good things out of it.

The draconic phantom flickered between bright and dim, swaying from side to side.

"Though you are an ignorant fellow who cannot recognize quality, to demonstrate my friendship, I can give you the dragon blood from around my heart. But you may need to pay more magic stones to assist me. Even Susie did not receive such a good thing. You had best agree quickly before I change my mind. A dragon's majesty cannot be trampled upon..." The draconic phantom sounded displeased.

"Deal, great and honest dragon! You must be even more formidable than those winged fellows."

Ruger tried flattering it, but the effect seemed rather poor.

He said no more. A large number of magic stones poured out, piling atop the metal contraption.

At the same time, he swiftly left his own secret art mark upon it.

This was the first time he had seen magic stones turn into drifting ash.

A switch that clearly displeased the draconic phantom opened under its personal direction after Ruger's spiritual power triggered it. Seeing this, the swaying phantom finally seemed to be completely relieved, then shattered and vanished.

A great quantity of dragon blood surged from the blood-drawing trough.

Ruger had no idea whether he had been deceived, nor did he know how much there would be. He simply kept collecting it into the Abyss Bedroom without restraint.

If that draconic phantom had not vanished, he truly would have hesitated a little. After all, this was a corridor-space leading into the Abyss to meet demons.

The dragon blood gushed forth with a gurgle-gurgle. The large pool he had built earlier quickly filled up, yet the dragon blood showed no sign of stopping. He could only continue storing it until the blood, spreading from the hollow at the bottom of the Abyss Bedroom, was about to reach the stone bed before it finally stopped.

Ruger also let out a breath of relief. He quickly leaped off the dragon's body and, bolstered by spell effects, sprinted away at high speed like a thief who had stolen blood.