"Great True Dragon, thank you for saving my humble life. Please... please accept my worship."
It was worth noting that the kobold spoke Draconic Language, though his accent was so heavy that even Jose, a legitimate True Dragon, could barely understand him.
Jose held his head high and accepted the kobold's worship.
To Lower Dragonkin and certain Evil Races, the Five-Colored Evil Dragons were like infamous underworld bosses. They were objects of worship, and whenever the opportunity arose, these creatures would attach themselves to them, considering it an honor to serve a True Dragon.
However, what they worshipped was the dragons' power rather than the dragons themselves. If they encountered a stronger True Dragon, these traitorous wretches would switch sides without hesitation. More than once in history, two dragons had gone to war, only for the weaker dragon to discover halfway through the battle that all his subordinates had defected to his opponent.
Therefore, one had to be careful when using these Lower Dragonkin. It was best to maintain an absolute advantage in strength.
After a while, he felt it was enough.
"Get up. Which tribe do you belong to? Why were you being hunted by the centaurs?"
"Great True Dragon, I am a member of the Bloodtooth Kobold Tribe. As for why the Graytail Centaurs were hunting me, I had originally gone to ask them for help..."
Through the kobold's clumsy Draconic Language, Jose figured out the full story.
The Bloodtooth Tribe and the Graytail Centaur Tribe had originally been "friends." Kobolds were skilled at mining but did not produce food, while centaurs needed metal arrowheads but lacked ore. Thus, the kobolds traded ore for the centaurs' food. Both sides got what they needed, and their partnership had been pleasant.
But some time ago, three Extraordinary Beasts—Petrification Lizards—had appeared from nowhere. The Petrification Lizards attacked the kobolds' mine and drove them out.
Because it had happened so suddenly, the kobolds had only managed to bring out a tiny amount of food. Cold and starving, with nowhere else to turn, they sent an envoy to seek help from their old trading partners, the Graytail Centaur Tribe. In the end, the envoy had nearly become a slave.
Jose noticed a flaw in the kobold's story. Centaurs were not fools. How could they let a slave they had captured escape in the middle of the night? He voiced his doubt.
"How did you escape from the slave pen? Tell me."
The kobold immediately grew excited. "During that battle against the centaurs, I awakened magical power. At the time, I was still unfamiliar with my new abilities, so I pretended to be exhausted and allowed myself to be captured. Then, at night, while the guard was dozing off, I used magic to deal with him. After that, I encouraged the other slaves to set fire to the centaurs' homes. We escaped in the chaos... and eventually, I met you."
After hearing about the kobold's escape, Jose could not help but think more highly of him.
He was someone capable!
At a critical moment, he had awakened as a Dragon Vein Warlock. Yet surrounded by enemies too powerful to fight, the kobold had deliberately shown weakness and allowed himself to be captured. Then he had found an opportunity to incite a slave uprising, set fires, and break out. He was both brave and clever.
Not only was he brave and clever, but he was lucky as well. Awakening as a warlock was luck, and encountering Jose in a crisis was even more so.
Luck was intangible and elusive, yet it truly existed. It could not be grasped or forced.
If ordinary people wanted to seek it, they could only befriend those blessed with good fortune and wait for them to prosper and lend a hand.
As a dragon, Jose had a better choice. He decided to take this kobold as his servant.
"Very good." Jose spread his dragon wings and held his head high, making his body appear even more majestic. "Your courage and wisdom shall be rewarded. The great True Dragon—Francisco Trinidad Jose—grants you the honor of becoming a Servant of the Dragon."
The kobold froze for a moment before erupting in wild joy. With a thud, he dropped to his knees. "It is my honor, my... master."
Jose nodded. He was very satisfied with the kobold's reaction. He took out a dragon scale that had shed during his growth, then thought for a moment and squeezed out another drop of blood.
Seeing this, the joy on the kobold's face deepened. He was a Dragon Vein Warlock who had awakened later in life, and he had glimpsed some basic knowledge of dragons through his bloodline. There were three standards by which dragons accepted followers:
The highest standard was the Essence Blood Contract. A dragon's mountain-sized body contained much blood, but only a small bowlful near its heart could be called essence blood. With an Essence Blood Contract, the dragon forced out a drop of essence blood and infused it into its servant, fundamentally altering the servant's bloodline and turning them into a Dragon Vein creature. The servant would gain the ability to grow alongside their master. However, the Essence Blood Contract greatly drained the dragon itself and was not used lightly.
The middle standard was dragon blood plus a dragon scale. Using the scale as paper and blood as ink, magic formed a spiritual connection between the dragon and its servant through a contract. The servant would be transformed into a Dragonkin and could benefit from the master's growth, though far less than with an Essence Blood Contract.
The lowest standard was merely being touched by a dragon's aura. A dragon could grant dragon blood or dragon scales, and even staying beside a dragon for a long time could allow one to absorb some of its aura and gain a faint Dragon Vein. Such servants could gain no benefits from their master's growth, but correspondingly, they had much greater freedom.
Jose chanted a spell. Under an invisible great force, the dragon scale and dragon blood slowly rose into the air, gradually drew closer, and finally fused together. A faint gleam flashed across the crimson scale.
Beside him, the White Dragon Kashi watched enviously. Although he was two or three years older than his boss and had entered the Juvenile Dragon stage, there was a reason White Dragons were called the shame of dragonkind. He had yet to awaken his spellcasting ability, so naturally, he could not form contracts with servants.
As the chant continued, lines of tiny writing appeared on the dragon scale. This was a contract written in Draconic Language. It had not been drafted by the dragon himself, but had been passed down by the First Ancestral Dragon and continuously refined over countless years. It was one of the most perfect contracts in the Multiverse.
Once the contract was complete, the scale slowly descended toward the kneeling kobold's forehead. It adhered to his brow, gradually melted into his skin, and vanished. The Dragon Vein contained within the scale spread throughout his body, nourishing his flesh, blood, bones, and tendons, fundamentally improving the kobold's physique.
The kobold gritted his teeth and endured the pain. It was the growing pain caused by his bloodline transforming his body. After the suffering, he would be reborn.
After around ten minutes, the bloodline transformation was complete. The kobold's face, which had been taut from pain, gradually relaxed. He opened his eyes, and his bright yellow vertical pupils had turned faintly red—a sign that the Red Dragon bloodline was taking effect.
Jose sensed a faint spiritual connection between himself and the kobold before him. He understood that his first servant had been born.
"My servant, tell me your name."
"Master, my name is Ergou."
Ergou? Erh Gouzi?!
For a kobold, it truly suited him.
"Fine, Erh Gouzi. Take me to your camp."
Erh Gouzi?
Ergou was puzzled, but he did not dare raise any objection.
"As you wish."
Led by Ergou, Jose entered the mountain forest. After walking some distance, they arrived at the foot of a mountain, where the escaped Bloodtooth Kobold Tribe had made camp in the woods.
Calling it a camp was generous. In reality, it was an open-air clearing in the forest. Stones formed a circle, and a wooden rack made of sticks stood beside it, with a hanging pot suspended from the frame. That was the camp's only structure.
Seeing one of their own return with two great True Dragons, the Bloodtooth Tribe kobolds were understandably shocked. The kobolds who had been sprawled on the ground as if dead hurriedly scrambled up, gaping in astonishment as they looked up at the True Dragons' magnificent bodies.
Under the gazes of the kobolds, Jose walked to the center of the tribe. With a sweep of his tail, he sent a millstone-sized boulder flying. With a thunderous boom, the rock struck a tree as thick as an adult's waist, snapping it in half with a teeth-grating creak.
"From this day onward," Jose loudly announced, spreading his broad dragon wings against the backdrop of the slowly tilting tree, "you belong to me."
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