King Ghidorah's three heads rumbled low in unison. There was no killing intent in his golden slit pupils, only an indifference that said, "You're no use to me, so why should I waste my time?"
Valeria's left eyeball darted rapidly a few times. Its energy core flickered wildly in the open air, the purple light growing brighter and brighter, as though making one final struggle.
It knew that if it failed to offer something of value, it would become a pile of actual rubble the very next second.
Its brain-if its brain could be called a brain-worked at maximum speed.
I'm done for. I only just woke up, and I'm already finished. If I'd known, I wouldn't have absorbed that little thing.
Valeria cursed itself ten thousand times in its mind. It remembered that while it had still been asleep, it could have chosen not to absorb that little thing's energy. It could have chosen to keep sleeping and wait for its true body to summon it. But it hadn't.
It had gotten greedy. It had thought that little thing's energy was just the right amount: enough to wake it, enough to restore part of its strength, enough to fly freely around this new age without gods and see what the world had become.
The price was its current predicament-pinned beneath the foot of an unreasonable behemoth that had appeared from who knew where.
Just as Valeria thought it was certain to die, King Ghidorah suddenly spoke.
"How about this?" His golden slit pupils narrowed slightly, his tone shifting from indifference to the scrutiny found only at a negotiating table. "Do you know how to make contracts or anything like that?"
Valeria froze for a moment.
"You stay and work for me. Once you've worked enough to pay me back for that intelligent entity, I'll let you go."
King Ghidorah spoke neither quickly nor slowly, as though stating a fact that left no room for bargaining. He wasn't sure how much this "stone spirit" was worth, nor how much value its "work" could create.
But smashing it to pieces would do him no good, while keeping it alive and working would at least let it do something for him.
Finding the palace required manpower-although he already had Voraksa searching, having another worker could hardly hurt.
Valeria fell silent.
During that silence, it conducted a swift and comprehensive self-assessment: first, it couldn't defeat this golden behemoth; second, it couldn't escape; third, if it rejected these terms, it would immediately become a pile of actual rubble.
The silence lasted about two seconds before a resigned sigh came through its thoughts.
[Very well... thank you for your mercy... my lord.]
It was reluctant, but it had no other choice.
"I am the King of the Monsters. You should address me as 'King.'"
As King Ghidorah said this, all three of his heads lifted slightly in unison.
Valeria was silent for a moment. King of the Monsters? I've never heard of that.
In the age of gods, there had been no "King of the Monsters," only gods or divine beasts. The word "monster" was far too broad, but this wasn't the time to dwell on that.
[Very well, Your Majesty. I do indeed know contract magic.]
Its thoughts carried the calm of someone already too deep in debt to worry about more. After living so long, being recruited by a "king" who had appeared out of nowhere was something of a novel experience.
Across Valeria's remaining body, the purple crystals' light changed from frantic flickering to a steady, continuous flow.
The light followed the patterns between the crystals, gathering in the energy core in its chest-that beating heart exposed to the air-before spreading outward from the core, traveling along its right forelimb, neck, head, and right wing, reaching every corner of its body.
The purple light grew brighter and denser, condensing in the air before it into a palm-sized circular formation diagram resembling something from an ancient ritual.
The diagram consisted of countless fine, glowing runes. Their lines weren't carved into stone but suspended in the air, rotating slightly, as though slowly spinning on their own axes.
Valeria infused its thoughts into the diagram. This wasn't an ordinary contract, nor one of those false contracts where one side deceived the other and exploited an imbalance of information. It was a contract of the highest order, bound by the World Will.
The binding power of such a contract came not from the contracting parties, but from the planet itself.
Once it was signed, the consequence of breaking it wasn't pursuit by the other party, but being marked by the World Will and becoming "unwelcome" on this planet-luck would run dry, danger would await outside, water would get stuck between one's teeth, and even a fart would strike one's heels.
It knew why it had to use a contract of the highest order.
Not because it was honest and trustworthy, but because it knew that if it dared play tricks before this golden behemoth, it wouldn't even get the chance to be "marked by the World Will." It would simply be crushed underfoot.
"You really know how?" King Ghidorah's three heads leaned toward the purple diagram hovering in midair together, all six golden slit pupils filled with curiosity.
He had seen contracts in novels, movies, and games. But this was the first time he had personally seen a diagram made of purple runes rotating in the air, glowing faintly as it hovered before him.
He extended a claw and gently poked the diagram's edge with its tip. The diagram wobbled from the poke, then resumed spinning, like a little top nudged by a finger.
"Hmm, pretty interesting. Let me see..."
In the Endless Ocean, beneath the abyss.
There was no light, no sound, no trace of life. Only eternal, icy, suffocating darkness and seawater ten thousand meters deep.
Apekus lay curled at the bottom of the abyss, countless thick tentacles gathered around its body like an enormous, dark blue flower waiting to bloom.
A thin layer of pale blue fluorescence covered its body, energy it naturally released while healing.
Most of the scales scorched by King Ghidorah's electricity had already fallen away. New scales grew beneath them, slightly paler than those around them, like diluted blue ink dripped onto a dark blue canvas.
The wounds blasted open by the Gravity Beams had also almost healed, leaving only a few long, narrow, slightly sunken scars faintly visible between its scales.
Recovering nicely. Apekus silently assessed its condition.
It had accumulated plenty of treasures over the years, many of them suitable for recovery-deep-sea cold iron, phoenix feathers, World Tree sap, and heart crystals from ancient dragons.
It had originally wanted to save these things for a more critical moment, but this time it had no choice but to use them.
That golden three-headed dragon had injured it too severely. Without these treasures, even lying at the bottom of the abyss for a hundred years might not have been enough to recover.
Now, in less than ten days, it had almost recovered. Though still short of its prime, at least its legs wouldn't go weak at the sight of King Ghidorah.
Of course, it wouldn't seek out that golden three-headed dragon. Ideally, it would never see him again.
Apekus was just about to close its eyes and continue recuperating when suddenly-
Its tentacles snapped taut. All of them, over a hundred, sprang out of their curled positions simultaneously, like a flower blooming in an instant.
The suckers at the ends of its tentacles gripped the rocks on the seabed tightly, anchoring Apekus's enormous body to keep it from rolling over in its sudden shock.
What was that? It had sensed something. Not a sound or a vibration, but information transmitted directly to it by the World Will.
As the world's administrator, it was closely connected to the planet's core consciousness.
Every contract of the highest order submitted to the World Will left a trace in the World Will's "records."
It didn't need to check proactively. The World Will automatically pushed this information to it, just as a person didn't need to deliberately leaf through a calendar when it was hanging on the wall, visible with a glance upward.
It hadn't intended to bother with it. It had been a long time since it had seen a contract of this highest order, but that didn't mean it was interested.
Right now, it only wanted to recover in peace, then go back to being its planet's watchdog, watching humans fight one another and watching the Seventeenth Epoch head toward its destined ending.
But it still took a look. Just one look. If the names on that contract belonged to a bunch of old fossils, it would pretend it hadn't seen them. Those old fossils would be cleaned up by it sooner or later anyway...
Two names were written in the runes: Valeria. And-King Ghidorah.
Wait, what the hell?
Apekus's tentacles tightened again. This time, they strained even harder than before, their suckers digging into the rocks and gouging deep pits into the hard stone.
Its curled body abruptly unfurled, all its tentacles spreading to either side at once. Like a startled octopus, it instinctively expanded itself to its maximum size as fast as possible, trying to look bigger and harder to mess with.
Apekus had seen King Ghidorah's name. On that purple diagram hovering in midair, on that contract of the highest order bound by the World Will, in the field marked "Contracting parties."
Its brain went through three stages at that moment.
Stage one: shock. How did King Ghidorah get involved with an ancient contract like this? Stage two: fear. I'm done for. He's going to use this kind of contract against me. Stage three: relief. Thank goodness it isn't me. Stage four: sympathy. Who's the other unlucky bastard?
At that moment, Apekus's world shrank to two coordinates: its own location and the location where that contract was taking place.
It didn't want to know who the other party was, what the contract contained, or why King Ghidorah wanted to sign a contract with this unlucky bastard.
It only wanted to confirm one thing-that unlucky bastard wasn't itself... good, it wasn't.
Then it did one thing-it swiftly approved the contract, so fast it seemed afraid that a moment's delay would let something crawl out of the runes and drag it in too.
The light of approval flashed within the runes, and the contract officially took effect. From this moment on, either party who violated the contract would suffer backlash from the world's consciousness.
The form and severity of that backlash depended on the nature of the breach and the disparity between the two parties...
Not looking anymore. Not getting involved. King Ghidorah has a new toy now, so he won't come back looking for me anyway.
Apekus closed its eyes.
Silence returned beneath the abyss.