Unexpected Gains

The Golden Serpent Dragon, scales now whole and gleaming with divinity once more, stirred from its coiled rest. Its deep, resonant voice rolled through the cavern like distant thunder.

"Wait. Don't go."

Alaric paused mid-step, glancing over his shoulder with disinterest.

"What now?"

The serpent raised its head, eyes gleaming with something close to petulance.

"Don't you have anything to say?"

Alaric turned fully, a faint smirk playing at the corner of his lips.

"Why are you speaking like I owe you something?"

The dragon narrowed its eyes, the glow behind them intensifying.

"What do you mean you don't owe me? You destroyed my home."

There was a beat of silence—then Alaric clapped, slow and amused.

"Well, well… you're more human than you look. You've got wit. Negotiation skills, even. You can haggle."

His golden eyes shimmered with genuine amusement.

"I'm impressed. So—what is it you want? How do you expect me to pay?"

The dragon shifted, its long body rippling like molten gold.

"Use that spell again."

Alaric arched a brow.

"That spell?"

"Yes. The one you used on me. It… it changed something. My bloodline—it became purer. I can feel it."

Alaric crossed his arms, intrigued now.

"Explain. 'Bloodline purity'? Be precise."

The dragon's tongue flicked out briefly. "Bloodlines govern power in us, just as divine energy does in you. The purer the bloodline, the closer we are to our ancestral form.

With purity comes strength—raw, instinctual, inherited. Intelligence sharpens, instincts heighten. It's not evolution. It's refinement."

"Hm…"

Alaric nodded slowly.

"Now that you mention it, you do sound sharper. Earlier, you were like a toddler screaming at clouds. Now you're making sense."

He tilted his head.

"I didn't know the spell had that kind of effect. But even so—why should I do it again?"

The dragon hesitated.

"…No reason. I just… felt like asking."

Alaric blinked. Then chuckled.

"And why does that matter?"

"It makes me more powerful. More intelligent. Even within the same rank, my potential grows."

Alaric regarded the beast for a moment longer, a flicker of understanding passing through his gaze.

"Ah. I see. A temporary gift became permanent growth. Fascinating."

Then his expression cooled.

"Still… that reasoning isn't enough."

He stepped forward, boots echoing against stone.

"You attacked me. I simply wanted to pass. You barred my path, roared, threatened, postured. And as for your 'home'—you're a dragon. Find another mountain. There are plenty in this range. Why should I strengthen you, knowing full well you might turn that power against me or others?"

The serpent dragon flinched, the tip of its tail twitching. Its sharpened mind searched for a response—but intellect birthed minutes ago is still learning to swim in deeper waters. It had no answer.

Alaric waited. Then said, softly:

"Then let me offer a suggestion."

The dragon looked up.

Alaric's voice was calm, deliberate.

"Become my mount."

The cavern fell into silence.

"…What?"

The dragon snarled, voice rising.

"How dare you?"

"How dare I?"

Alaric laughed.

"You're the one asking to be empowered. And I'm giving you an opportunity. I don't do charity. I require compensation. You have no treasures to barter with—none that could compare to what I already possess. So what else is there?"

He stepped even closer, his presence like gravity itself.

"I walk away now, and you won't stop me. You can't. You want power. You want growth. Then serve. Bind yourself to me, and in return, I shall raise you to heights you've only dreamed of. That's the deal."

The dragon stared, stunned, golden body coiled like a question that couldn't yet find its answer.

The dragon's jaw tightened. For the first time in its long, instinct-driven existence, it hesitated—not from fear, but from contemplation.

Mount?

The word grated against its pride like stone scraping scale. It was a dragon of the golden line, descendant of sky-soaring monarchs. To be ridden like a beast of burden? To bow its back for another?

Unthinkable.

…Or was it?

A flicker of the spell's memory surged through its mind—ecstasy, clarity, the shackles of dull instinct torn away in a single breath of sacred light.

In that moment, it had known what it could become. The fog had lifted, and it had tasted something no ordinary beast could dream of: transcendence.

And that had come from him—the one standing before it now. This golden-haired, golden-eyed human who radiated the scent of gods.

The dragon's claws dug into stone.

What was pride, when compared to evolution? What was stubbornness, when the heavens themselves were within reach?

"…Would I be bound?"

It asked at last, voice low.

Alaric's expression didn't change.

"Yes. But not like a slave. Like a pact. A covenant between us. You'll carry me. Fight when I ask. Swear fealty. In return, I will nurture your ascent. You will soar higher under my shadow than alone in your solitude."

The dragon looked into his eyes—and saw no falsehood.

Just inevitability.

"…And if I refuse?"

"Then I leave,"

Alaric said simply.

"And in a hundred years, you'll still be wallowing in a den, while lesser beasts surpass you."

A long silence stretched between them.

Then the dragon bowed its head—low, but not in defeat. In acceptance. In the solemn understanding of a new path.

"…Then I accept."

Its voice held weight. Not submission, but pact. Not loss, but rebirth.

Alaric nodded once.

"Good. Then rise… and let us begin."

*****

✢═─༻༺═✢═─༻༺═✢

✶ I Reincarnated as an Extra ✶

✧ in a Reverse Harem World ✧

⊱ Eternal_Void_ ⊰

✢═─༻༺═✢═─༻༺═✢

*****

Alaric stood before the great serpent dragon, his golden eyes steady, yet distant—like a sun glimpsed through veils of morning mist.

He didn't raise his hand this time.

Instead, he placed it gently over his chest.

The Divine Heart Core stirred.

Light spilled through his veins, golden and quiet—like the first breath of dawn pouring into the world.

It coalesced into thin, luminous strands that wove themselves into the air, spinning a thread—not of authority, but of invitation.

Alaric whispered, voice low, solemn.

—[Divine Thread: Covenant of Radiant Ascent]

The spell took shape—not with fanfare, but reverence.

The golden thread drifted through the air like pollen, warm and living. It carried no domination. No force. Only the gentle weight of potential.

It shimmered toward the serpent and, without hesitation, began to wrap around the beast's head—circling its horns, its brow, then vanishing beneath its scales where the soul resided.

The serpent didn't resist.

It welcomed the touch.

Because within that thread, it felt something it had never known before—not fear, not even power.

It felt nourishment.

The divine energy seeped into its marrow, invigorating its Bloodline. Cells awakened. Dormant power stirred. Its very being was refined—lifted—not by coercion, but by harmonization.

Alaric's voice was quiet.

"This thread draws from my Heart. It nurtures those who accept it. It uplifts. Refines. I used it to strengthen the girls in my care. Now you, too, are part of that sanctuary."

Alaric intentionally avoided saying divine heart core. It is some thing he hadn't even told the girls about.

The dragon exhaled, slow and deep. Its golden scales shimmered, subtly richer than before. Its voice, when it returned, was clearer—almost regal.

"…Then this is not submission."

"No,"

Alaric said, stepping forward.

"It's cultivation. I give light, and those willing to grow may receive it."

The dragon bowed its great head, its tone now calm and assured.

"Then I will walk this path. My strength shall grow with yours."

Alaric approached and stepped atop the dragon's neck. The golden thread between them pulsed once—soft, approving.

And in that moment, he felt it.

A new node in his Divine Heart Core. It didn't scream for loyalty. It simply glowed—a quiet, steady warmth. A bond of growth.

The wind had settled.

The golden serpent dragon coiled low to the ground, still glowing faintly with the aftereffects of Alaric's sacred spell.

It blinked slowly, its eyes now sharper, more intelligent—its Bloodline singing quietly beneath golden scales.

Alaric stood a few paces away, arms crossed loosely, golden hair fluttering with the breeze. He studied the creature in silence for a long moment. Then, without turning, he said—

"You're not coming with me."

The serpent blinked.

"What?"

"I'm leaving you here."

His voice was calm.

"At the entrance."

"But… I thought—"

"You thought I needed a mount,"

Alaric interrupted, a faint trace of amusement tugging at the edge of his tone.

"I don't."

The serpent's long body shifted, uncertainty flickering in its gaze.

"Then why forge the thread? Why grant me this blessing?"

Alaric turned to face it fully now. His golden eyes held the weight of something older than pride—intent.

"You are strong, yes. But unrefined. You were like a newborn moments ago, driven by instinct and territory. The thread I gave you will take time to mature within your body. To deepen its roots. It's not a leash. It's a cultivation garden—and such things don't bloom overnight."

He stepped closer, placing a hand lightly against the serpent's massive brow.

"I've given you the seed. Now grow it."

The serpent stilled.

Alaric lowered his hand.

"Stay here. Guard the entrance."

"To what? No one comes this deep into the mountains."

"I know,"

Alaric said, almost amused again.

"But that's not the point."

"…Then what is?"

Alaric's voice shifted—soft, solemn.

"Things don't need witnesses to have meaning."

He turned his gaze to the shattered remnants of the mountain's interior, where their battle had left scorched stone and ruptured earth. The passage he had descended—now silent and steep—vanished into mist below.

"This place once sheltered your pride, your home. And I shattered it."

A pause.

"So now, let it be something else. Let it become a threshold. A place of quiet strength. A gate guarded by a silent sovereign."

The serpent tilted its head.

"Even if no one comes?"

"You will know it,"

Alaric replied.

"And so will I."

For a moment, the golden dragon said nothing. Then, slowly, with a strange gentleness, it lowered its head once more and coiled its body around the entrance like a slumbering deity.

"If that is your will… then I will wait."

Alaric offered a slight nod.

"Grow stronger. Let the thread temper you. One day, perhaps, you will take to the skies. But not yet."

And with that, he turned and walked away—his footsteps light against the ruined stone, fading into the depths of the mountain's misty corridor.

Behind him, the dragon remained. Alone, but not lost. It sat as ordered—immense, radiant, still.

A living monument to Alaric's passage.

A guardian of nothing, and yet of everything.

-To Be Continued