A Summoner's Contract

Ezekiel stepped out of Somia's shop, his body still humming with the lingering aftershocks of the Magma's Heart, his chest beating in an unfamiliar rhythm.

It was slightly uncomfortable, but he knew he'd get used to it eventually.

Ezekiel was also two gold coins lighter now, with only a little over 25 gold coins remaining in his account — equivalent to 250K credits in real life.

Having learned from the White Stone Cave, his inventory now held hundred newly bought basic health potions. He'd also acquired three different spell scrolls and gotten himself an anti-neurotoxin injection.

Opera's protection had long since ended. That gift, fleeting as it was, had made the initial steps much less formidable. But the wilds of ReLife were relentless — crawling with one-shot death traps and toxic fauna like the Reger Trees, whose neurotoxic spores killed in seconds.

Better to be prepared than become another statistic from a momentary distraction.

He paused at the edge of the cloaking field and surveyed the streets. The air outside felt cooler now with the sun gradually dipping toward the west. The bustle of Fwerah was distant with the day vendors preparing to close shop to make space for the nighttime businesses.

Men and women were either heading home, or to the local taverns for a meal and a good time.

He closed his eyes and focused. A cacophony of muffled voices and whispers reached his ears. The news of the rescue of the missing villagers had yet to be released.

After a brief discussion with Ezekiel, Roana had chosen to let the victims recover a bit first. Overwhelming them without understanding their trauma responses would be foolish.

It was why most villagers still continued with their day to day lives, their conversations devoid of any inkling to what happened at the North Gate in the morning.

Ezekiel tuned out the background chatters and opened his eyes, as his sight zeroed in onto a faraway alley.

Movement, footstep patterns, trace body warmth absorbed in shadows… his thoughts churned faster than instinct.

Someone is watching.

Though it was far, one hiding in it would still have an unobstructed view of the place where Ezekiel had seemingly vanished.

It wasn't his Perception that had picked up this intrusive presence, as only 2 points did not have such a refined reach.

This observation came from his Intelligence that had reached 249 points after the surgery.

Intelligence operated differently from Perception which sharpened one's senses. Ezekiel's head was on overdrive, but not in an overwhelming way. Each new thread of information wove into his mind like pre-sorted code. No noise. No clutter. Just clarity.

He felt like a highly advanced machine, as his brain computed thousands of layers of data within a few seconds.

Subtle clues surfaced in his thoughts before he even made a conscious effort to pick them up.

The change was profound. Before, he might have been able to read through the opponent's next move in a game of chess — but now... he could visualize the entirety of the game with millions of outcomes — all within a few moments.

He was, after all, on par with a Level 150 player or higher in terms of Intelligence alone.

Ezekiel's eyes narrowed as he saw the glint of light reflecting off of polished boots, almost imperceptible.

Indeed. Still there.

The Black Halo scout hadn't moved. Four hours had passed since Ezekiel vanished inside Somia's shop, and still they waited. Patient. Obsessive.

His lips curved into something between a sneer and a smile.

Good.

He'd almost worried they'd give up and slink off with their tails between their legs. But no — Black Halo wasn't that kind of guild. They were a Player Killer outfit that reveled in bloodsport.

The kind of guild that could leave entire starter zones unplayable for days. The kind that pushed new players to quit and made veterans rage in disgust.

Their obsession wasn't just malice. It was method.

And now, they had the wrong target.

He didn't rush to confront them. Not yet. Let them wait — as they live through the anxiety of losing out on a big prey. It would only make what came next more satisfying.

Ezekiel shifted his attention to the small warmth curled across his shoulder. The hatchling — no, his little beast — had refused to part from him since the surgery.

All five of its scaled heads rested lightly against his collarbone, its eyes wide and alert, clinging like he might vanish again.

He glanced at it, then let out a soft breath and offered a tired smile.

"You're not gonna let me out of your sight, huh?"

The hatchling chirped quietly, one head nuzzling his jawline while another licked at the edge of his ear. Its grip tightened slightly — gentle, but firm.

There was something vulnerable in its presence. Not fear for itself — but for him.

Ezekiel wasn't sure why it cared so much. Why this creature, of all things, had grown so fiercely attached in so little time. But whatever the reason, it warmed a corner of him he hadn't known had gone cold.

He didn't want to trample over that trust.

"Hey," he said gently, drawing its attention. All five heads tilted toward him in eerie synchrony. "If we entered a summoner's contract… would I understand you better?"

The hatchling's reaction was instant.

A bright, delighted screech rang out, followed by a flurry of excited movement. Its tails lashed playfully, its heads nodding so fast he worried it might faint from the effort.

Ezekiel chuckled softly. "You're really all in on that idea, huh?"

But then, his tone shifted — serious now, quiet.

"Do you even understand what that means? A summoner's contract isn't some cute pet trick. You'll be bound to me. You'll rest in my core, only able to see the world through my eyes unless I summon you. You'll have to obey when I call — fight when I command. It's not freedom. It's… servitude."

The hatchling stilled, watching him closely. With its incredibly high Intelligence, Ezekiel had no doubts that it understood every word.

He continued. "If I die, you die. But if you die — I live. I could work you like a dog, offer no rewards, and forget you the moment something shinier comes along. I could abuse that contract. And you'd be helpless to stop me."

His voice dropped lower.

"I'm not saying I would. But I can't prove that. And I can't promise you a peaceful future, either. I am selfish and I will always choose myself over you. Even so, you'd be stuck with me, unable to leave on your own terms."

The street felt quieter, with only the sound of wind breezing past them. In that silence, Ezekiel's words sounded heavier.

He thought back to the stories. The dark legacies.

Summoners. The class was whispered about more than celebrated. In the past, it was considered shady, cruel. It was scorned. A relic of a darker time.

And for a good reason.

Too many horror tales. Too many villains who'd used their creatures as disposable tools — or worse. In the early wars of Enia's history, there had been summoners who'd single-handedly wiped out cities, sacrificing hundreds of bonded beasts like cannon fodder.

With Enia being at its peaceful era due to the Global Peace Treaty for the last couple of centuries, it made sense that many people had forgotten the infamy of the Summoner class. While skeptical of their strength, summoners were still moderately accepted within human civilization.

He had yet to meet another Summoner. But he had no doubts about the emergence of players who'd be thrilled to repeat such a cruel history.

He didn't want to be like them, so he clearly laid down the terms before the little creature.

Ezekiel waited, letting the hatchling think it over.

The little creature blinked slowly. All five heads tilted to the side in eerie, synchronized contemplation. Its intelligent eyes, bright and thoughtful, turned inward — as if searching memories or weighing invisible scales.

A minute passed.

Then another.

And then it moved.

It let out a high-pitched, jubilant screech and rubbed its heads all over his neck and jawline, tails coiling onto his back. One head licked at his temple while another squeaked right into his ear.

Affection. Loyalty. Joy.

Ezekiel didn't need a bond to feel it — he knew. And in that moment, he smiled, relief and warmth rising unbidden to the surface.

"…Alright," he said quietly. "I guess that's a yes."

From his inventory, he retrieved the second reward from the completed Epic-tier quest. Another silver chest, identical to the one that had kept the Magma's Heart dormant within.

Magma's Book.

Ezekiel took out the book from within the chest, then chucked the silver box back into his inventory.

A heavy leather-bound tome, it looked both ancient and new in the same breath. Released from its runic restraints, the dark brown cover now displayed etched archaic symbols that shifted and shimmered as if alive.

The moment it touched open air, heat pulsed from it — not the kind that burned, but the kind that felt like home.

The hatchling's attention snapped toward it. All five heads focused, eyes wide and curious.

Perhaps the little creature had already sensed its purpose.

He looked down at the hatchling again, his eyes shining with a hint of excitement.

"Let's make this official."