Star Inscription

Ferrum returned to his nest.

Though it was called a dragon's nest, a hatchling's nest was really just a space enclosed by a few rocks.

Yet dragons had always been deeply attached to nest-building. Since he could not live with the Nurturer, Ferrum had regarded building a nest as his highest priority ever since hatching.

Back then, he had spent an entire day wandering around near his birthplace, inspecting many locations before finally choosing the gently sloping ground beneath a rock on the far side of the mountain hollow.

The terrain here was excellent: sheltered from wind and rain, with an open view and no standing water. It was also far from the valley's center, within Valyria's senses yet unlikely to be disturbed by passing hatchlings.

By every measure, it was a very good spot.

Rocks were everywhere in Ochre Valley, but not every stone was suitable for building a nest.

The little chrome dragon had wandered all around the valley, spending a long time searching for square stones of the right size with at least one flat side. Whenever he found one, he dragged it back with his claws and teeth, then stacked them one by one into low walls.

Next, he dug up gravel from the mountain stream and spread a thin layer across the nest. He hopped and jumped over it, packing it down beneath his feet, then finally fetched a handful of fluffy straw to use as a pillow. Only then did he finish building his little home.

Though the nest looked unremarkable, it was quiet, clean, and built bit by bit with his own claws. Every time the little chrome dragon lay on the sand and gravel and rolled around, he felt a strange sense of satisfaction.

At that moment, Ferrum lowered himself to the ground and reclined like a large cat.

Training had already ended, but the wound in his mouth was still bleeding, and his entire face throbbed with pain.

Perhaps because he was mentally exhausted, once he lay down and felt the gravel beneath his belly gradually warm from cold, his mind quickly grew heavy and he slowly began to drift toward sleep.

A faint, gentle chant rose in the distance.

The sound was far away and low-pitched, making it somewhat indistinct. Ferrum assumed the Nurturer was casting some kind of spell and paid it no mind.

But after a while, he realized something was wrong. The sound had continued for far too long. It did not sound like spellcasting, but more like some hatchling putting on airs and chanting poetry from the Dragon Legacy.

Ferrum furrowed the scales between his brows, shifted positions, and buried his head beneath his membranous wing.

The chanting grew solemn, and its volume steadily rose. Layer upon layer, every line eventually became incomparably grand.

It was as if a crowd were singing beside his ears, passionate and heroic, raising their voices in a roar that was almost thunderous.

Damn it, was it a Gray Dwarf carnival?

Looks like sleep was out of the question.

Irritated, Ferrum got to his feet, shook his head, and left his nest to see what was going on.

Ochre Valley's night had neither stars nor moon, and it was shrouded in an unprecedented fog.

The chrome dragon walked toward the source of the sound. The thick mist carried damp moisture, and though it was still autumn, the temperature had somehow plummeted.

The air was icy, and breathing it into his lungs gave even a dragon the illusion that he might shiver.

As he moved forward, the dense fog slowly retreated to either side. The things around him gradually emerged from the white haze, at first only blurred lines like ink spreading through water, then clearer lines joining into shapes.

Ferrum suddenly froze. The scales all over his body rippled along his muscles like water, tightening and relaxing one after another.

The ground beneath his feet...

Had vanished.

He looked around. Beneath him was no longer the gravel of Ochre Valley, but a boundless, glossy-black mirror, so smooth not a single ripple could be seen, stretching endlessly into the distance.

At some point, the chanting had quietly stopped. Only bottomless silence remained around him.

By then, Ferrum had already realized that he was probably dreaming—or experiencing some sort of illusion, a Spirit Vision.

Because if this were reality, that lofty, solemn chanting could not possibly have been heard by him alone. Yet until now, not a single living creature nearby had come to investigate, including the powerful Nurturer.

And if this was an illusion or teleportation aimed specifically at him, that did not seem very likely either. Who would go to such lengths just to toy with a hatchling?

The silent darkness suddenly lit up.

Countless points of light rose leisurely from the depths of the mirror, illuminating the boundless darkness. Light filled every inch of space beneath Ferrum's feet, around him, and above his head. Colors intertwined and reflected one another, surging like an ocean of waves.

It was as though the stars had risen into the sky, while he stood at the center of a sea of stars.

Ferrum was somewhat startled, but also curious. The scene before him seemed both dreamlike and not, so real yet so fantastical that a strange premonition rose within his hazy mind.

It felt as though something was about to happen, yet he could not say what it was.

Ferrum stared ahead and saw several clusters of stardust changing rapidly. They gathered and condensed, quickly sketching an outline that took the shape of a hatchling.

Only after it completely solidified did Ferrum recognize the figure of light. It was the hatchling who shared his surname.

Mochi Sorax.

Mochi's projection lowered its back in the starry sky, planted all four claws on the ground, and assumed a poised pouncing stance. A bright ribbon of light extended from his body, linking him to Ferrum.

Ferrum shifted his gaze to a spot not far to the left, where another outline seemed to be taking shape.

That nameless Thunderclap Dragon had also appeared in the starry sky. Its expression was stubborn and ferocious, but its projection was smaller than Mochi's, and the light connecting it to Ferrum was exceedingly dim.

Before he could think further, the two projections suddenly flickered rapidly.

A faint force seeped along the threads of light into Ferrum's body, sinking into his organs and bones.

That force was so small it could almost be ignored, yet in that instant, Ferrum understood everything.

All the explanations appeared at once. There was no need for words or sound, as though an extra portion of the Dragon Legacy had appeared out of nowhere, its contents clear, precise, and beyond doubt.

Through a Spirit Vision, he had opened his own Mystic Vault. The vault took the form of a starry sky, and the two projections beneath it were Ferrum's "Destiny Alliance."

Whether relatives and friends, companions, retainers, or slaves, as long as they formed a positive entanglement of fate with Ferrum, they would become part of his Destiny Alliance and be reflected beneath the starry sky.

The stronger they were in the real world, the larger the projections they manifested would be.

The connections between those projections and Ferrum were called the "Threads of Bond." The closer the relationship between both sides, the sturdier the Threads of Bond they formed.

As the master of the Mystic Vault, Ferrum could draw power from his Destiny Alliance. The amount and strength of that power were determined jointly by the size of the projections and the strength of the Threads of Bond.

"This is great."

The little chrome dragon paced around the two projections, his eyes bright as he clicked his tongue in wonder.

He was the sole master of this spiritual world. As his words fell, the entire sea of stars trembled. Countless starlights dragged long tails behind them, spiraling down from every direction toward a single point above Ferrum's head.

Ferrum raised his head and saw the brilliant starlight filling the sky. The lights surged and gathered, changing from indistinct to clear before finally solidifying into blazing Ancient Dragon Script that descended onto the scales of his forehead.

[Consume Gold, Absorb Iron]

A brand-new ability formed within Ferrum's body.

The inscription was complete. All the starlight faded away, and the spiritual world returned to its original state, leaving only the two hatchling projections reflected alone in the darkness.

"After forming more solid Destiny Alliances and drawing enough power, I can summon the stars again and carry out another inscription."

Ferrum recalled the strange phenomenon from moments ago and murmured, "Each time I summon the stars, the power required will multiply compared to before..."

It seemed this path would gradually become harder to walk in the future.

But for Ferrum, he had already gained an ability and seen the hope of growing stronger continuously in the future. That was the greatest reward, and nothing could compare to it.

Satisfied, the little chrome dragon closed his eyes and withdrew from the dark starry sky.