"What am I going to do with you?" Jack—now Raiden—brushed his hand against the dragon's head, staring into its blue eyes as it sat on the table, just before it suddenly tried to bite its tail.
"You remind me of him," he said, wearing a faint smile.
When Jack was four, he'd run into a stray cat on a rainy night just beyond the walls of his house. He already knew what his parents' reaction would be, so—with his deceased twin brother, Jobe—they hid it and cared for it. They named it Ash.
Unfortunately, Ash didn't last long. The moment their parents found it, they killed it.
From the moment Jobe died, his entire existence was erased from the Grim family. In truth, the only thing that remained was his face—and all Jack had to do was look in the mirror to see him again.
But now, even that had been taken from him.
"I think I'll call you Ash."
[ALERT]
[FAMILIAR NAME UPDATED.]
[NAME: ASH.]
[FAMILIAR TRUST: +20%]
It seemed to like the name, becoming more playful—scampering around and nuzzling up to him with affection.
Raiden shook himself from his sobbing daze and began to think about what he should do next. Ash wasn't anything powerful enough to get him out of that world, after all.
He took a moment to breathe and think. Ash kept scampering around, distracting him—but that's when he realized just how little he knew about the realm.
Hell or not, he needed to understand exactly what he was dealing with.
The evening was only a few hours away, and getting out there to learn more about others and their familiars might at least give him a clue.
Maybe he could squeeze some magic out of Ash—or perhaps even summon more.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out the key to the room where the Book of Ashes was kept. He hadn't even seen the book itself yet, but considering how precious they claimed it was, he wasn't willing to interfere with it—at least, not now.
He placed the key back in his pocket and rose to his feet. Ash immediately climbed onto him as they began heading out of the library.
As the bookkeeper, he was required to seek permission before leaving the palace grounds—but all that bureaucracy was bound to take a toll on him, and Raiden wasn't going to let it.
He simply made his way outside, and just before reaching the throne room, he ordered two roaming guards to watch over the library.
He began heading for the entrance, glancing at the statues lining the pavement—athletic and ripped portraits carved in stone. It was graciously peaceful as they made their way out, even lulling Ash to sleep on his shoulder.
And yet, Raiden's senses were sharper than ever.
It felt like it took forever, but he finally made it to the entrance, where two guards stood at their posts. He simply waved at them and continued on his way.
Just beyond the entrance was a wide pavement that connected the palace to the city's streets.
"Persia City, huh?" He smirked.
Citizens filled the streets, each going about their day. Looming over them were the cityscapes, their structures rising at symmetrical heights.
Many walked in pairs, others moved alone—but what caught his attention most were a few children who looked about eight years old, dressed in shorts, boots, and hats that matched their shirts. They were play-fighting beside a fountain right in the middle of T Street.
He paused and smiled at them, reaching into his pocket for a few notes of money. They were brown, each imprinted with a crossed book and sword. He held four of them, each marked with 500, though he had no idea how much they were actually worth.
Just as he stood there, contemplating which route to take—left, right, or forward—a few people hurried over and began yelling at him to stop the kids from fighting.
He blinked in confusion, staring at the woman in the brown surcoat.
"I honestly thought this was normal…"
"What? What do you mean, 'normal'?"
He gave the woman one last glance as she continued yelling, then simply turned and took the route to his left.
Raiden had yet to come across anyone with a familiar. Everyone around him seemed too busy to be interrupted. A few carried newspapers, while others moved through the crowd handing out flyers—most of them simply asking people to join their adventuring parties.
Just as he maneuvered his way through the street, something caught the corner of his left eye. He turned to see an elderly man with a potbelly and a white shirt, selling jewelry at an open-front shop.
What truly caught his attention, though, was the small flame resting on the man's dark hair.
He smirked. He could've spoken to the man through the window, where he was chatting with passersby, but instead, he chose to enter the shop.
The moment he stepped inside, he saw a boy about his age standing behind the counter—white hair, piercing blue eyes, and a worn black apron that made him look like he'd just returned from the blacksmith.
He looked strangely familiar to Raiden, though no memory came to mind.
He approached the counter, noticing a few black cords hanging around the shop.
"Welcome to the Odin Shop of Jewelry. What can I get you?"
"Can you get me one of those cords? And… I'd like to speak with the old man over there."
The boy's expression darkened.
"You know he doesn't like being called an old man," he whispered. "And… when did you get a familiar?"
"Do you want to talk magic?" He wore a lustful smile.
Raiden gave him a tired, almost annoyed look.
"Do I know you?"
"What?! What do you mean?" the boy said, turning to grab one of the cords.
"It's me, Leo," he added, handing the cord to Raiden, who still looked confused.
"Leo Odin? …Your classmate at Persian University?"
"Okay," Raiden said, placing one of his 500 notes on the counter.
"500 Persa?" Leo asked, confusion written all over his face. "The cord is 3 Persa. Don't you have any smaller notes? Or even coins?"
"No… Can I speak with the old man now?"
Raiden had already seen the boy's crest—yellow, with the number 8—and had no interest in a crest he didn't even understand.
Leo walked over to the man, leaned in, and whispered something to him. The man immediately turned and approached Raiden at the counter, while Leo stayed by the window.
"You've finally gotten yourself a familiar, great job!"
Raiden gave him a firm nod and slid the 500 Persa note across the counter. The man looked confused, but Raiden was simply trying to buy all the information he needed.
"Can you tell me more about summoners and their beasts—like my dragon?"
The man's expression darkened.
"I've already told you all you need to know."
Raiden shook his head, clearly dissatisfied.
"No, you haven't. I know nothing about these dragons. How am I supposed to get stronger with them? And can I even use magic at all?"
"Kid, business is bad today, and it's almost sunset… Can we talk about this another time?"
"Wait…" Raiden said, pulling out another note and sliding it across the counter toward him.
The man narrowed his eyes slightly.
"Do you want to buy something?"
Raiden said nothing. He just stared, cold and unflinching, straight into the man's confused eyes.
"I don't know what's wrong with you today, but take your money and get out of my shop," he said, his tone gritty and unmistakable.
Raiden didn't move an inch. Instead, he calmly reached into his pocket and added another note to the counter.
Everyone had a price—and whatever situation they were in determined exactly what that price was. Whether it came through money, a task, an act of service, or even something as low as a hug… exploit that, and you could get anyone you wanted.
Jack had been taught that truth—and he had learned it the hard way.
The man sighed in disbelief.
"I haven't seen any white dragon grant magic, but other familiars do. You can stick with just your dragon or train hard in other abilities—swordsmanship, combat. If you increase your mana pool, you'll be able to interact with random creatures during battle to support you. But unless you're a Level 4 or lower, you can only contract one at a time."
Raiden listened carefully to every word, yet he still wasn't satisfied.
"What about magic?" he asked, his eyes darting toward the window. It was getting late.
The man's expression hardened.
"I won't answer any more questions after this…" His tone left no room for doubt.
"Blue crests can only summon—and even then, only a few lucky ones have enough time to tame what they call. That's all I know."
The moment the man finished speaking, Raiden didn't wait a second. He simply turned and walked out. It was getting late, and he needed to return to the library.
Ash was still asleep, but given how Jack's family despised delay, punctuality had been etched into his soul.
He tucked away all his thoughts and concerns—for now. He'd deal with them once he was back at the library.
By the time he reached the palace, Ash was awake. It jumped to the floor and started running ahead, both of them carefully avoiding the notice of nearby knights. Before long, they made it back to the library, where the guards Raiden had appointed stood watch.
He gave a subtle gesture for them to leave, then ran a hand through his hair in exhaustion. Pulling out the cord, he slid the key onto it and placed it around his neck.
"Ash… I guess I'll have to summon a different creature then. I really need to get back home—for him."
The moment he said it, Ash's expression dropped, a flicker of sadness in its eyes.
But Raiden just stared up at the ceiling, his thoughts already drifting far from the room.
"I think this is worse than hell… The theory that hell was filled with fire would've been better—at least then I wouldn't still have my sense of awareness. But this…"
He let out a sudden scream, the sound sharp and hollow in the quiet room.
Ash immediately jumped onto his leg, trying to comfort him.
"I mustn't give up… This is hell, after all. The book might h—
Raiden instinctively grabbed Ash and leaped off the desk, landing on the other side. He held his stance, reaching for his gun—
but he was unarmed. Unfortunate.
A figure emerged from behind his seat, clapping slowly.
"You're quite sharp. Not many people can see through my invisibility."
The figure shifted into a fully human form—
He wore a red shirt, and his black hair was tied back in a ponytail. There was something stylish about him, but also undeniably prideful.
He wore a yellow crest with the number seven.
The moment Raiden spotted his crest, his body trembled on the inside, but his stance remained firm, his expression unreadable.
"You seem like a nice guy," the man said, his tone almost casual. "I'd hate to kill you… so be a good boy and hand over the Book of Ashes."
Raiden was still trembling on the inside, his voice caught somewhere in his throat.
But no matter what, he wasn't going to hand over the book.
If the magic inside was powerful enough for an entire kingdom to protect, then it might be useful to him.
And even if it wasn't… he was keeping it out of duty.
The infiltrator gritted his teeth, clearly frustrated by Raiden's silence.
Then, in a blink, he vanished again.
"I thought you were cool," his voice echoed, cold and distant. "But I've changed my mind. You're just like the rest of them."
Raiden's crumbling composure became more visible—he looked like someone deeply afraid of those stronger than him.
Yet his eyes scanned every direction, searching for the intruder.
Before he could react, a fist slammed into his ribs, launching him off his feet and crashing him hard into the ground.
"Give me the book!"
In that moment, everything about him changed—
The smile vanished, the stylish air dissolved, and in its place, dark energy radiated from him, speaking louder than any threat.