I sat on the bed, cross-legged. I placed the egg in my lap, my left hand resting on its cold, obsidian shell. I held Draken in my right, its hilt cold as the void.

I didn't try to wield the sword's power. I didn't try to command it.

That had been my mistake during the first awakening.

This time, I would guide it. I built a bridge in my mind: from the sword, through my own mana core—acting as a filter, a conduit—and out through my left hand into the egg.

I connected the circuit.

"Wake up."

The response was instantaneous and violent.

It wasn't a gentle flow. It was a flood.

"...FOOLISH CHILD..." Drakerlor's ancient, booming voice roared in my mind, not as a whisper, but as a telepathic shockwave. "YOU DARE DRAW UPON MY—... WHAT IS THIS? A PEBBLE? NO... A... KIN? AN ECHO...?"

A torrent of pure, black-violet energy erupted from Draken. It wasn't my mana; it was a deluge of ancient, draconic, abyssal power.

It surged up my right arm, setting my nerves on fire, slammed into my mana core—which screamed in protest as the alien energy forcibly tore through it—and then blasted out of my left palm and into the egg.

"GAAAAH!" I cried out, my body convulsing as the raw power channeled through me. I was no longer a wielder; I was just a wire, a conduit for a god's power, and the wire was melting.

The egg lit up.

The obsidian shell, once dark, now blazed with a furious crimson light. The internal nebula patterns erupted, swirling like a galaxy being born. The egg, once cold as stone, became superheated in an instant, searing my hand and lap, but I couldn't let go. The energy link was locked.

It thrummed, a deep, resonating VWOOM... VWOOM... VWOOM... that I felt in my bones, in my teeth. It was a heartbeat. A monstrous, powerful, starving heartbeat.

I felt Drakerlor's ancient, immense, and impossibly hungry aura pouring through me, and I felt the egg's nascent, equally starving consciousness pulling it in, drinking the divine power greedily.

The transfer lasted for what felt like an eternity, but was probably only ten seconds. Then, as abruptly as it began, the connection severed.

Snap.

I collapsed backward onto the bed, gasping, my body drenched in sweat. My arms were numb, my mana core felt like it had been scraped raw, and my vision was blurry. Draken clattered to the floor, its dark aura subdued, almost… satisfied? Purring.

I looked at my lap. The egg was still there. But it was no longer cold and inert. It was warm, pulsing with a faint, steady crimson heartbeat. The nebula patterns inside were swirling faster, brighter. It was alive. Truly alive.

And then, a new voice touched my mind.

It wasn't Drakerlor's ancient, terrifying roar. This one was… young. Weak. Hazy. But unmistakably demanding.

…master?… cold… hurt… hungry… more…

I stared at the egg. "Oh, crap."

What have I done? I'd used a Dragon of Doom and Destruction to jump-start a baby Abyssal Dragon. I hadn't just awoken it; I'd imprinted on it, using Drakerlor's own aura. I was, for all intents and purposes, its "Master."

A new, familiar chime brought me back to reality.

[Dormant Abyssal Dragon Egg -> Awakened Abyssal Wyrmling Egg (Bonded)]

[Status: Stable. Life signs active. Awaiting nourishment for hatching.]

[Bond Forged: 'Master' (via Draconic Resonance)]

[New Main Quest Triggered: Hatch the Abyssal Wyrmling]

[Description: The Wyrmling is awake, but its shell, hardened by millennia of dormancy, is too strong for it to break from within. It requires external, high-mana materials to soften the shell and provide nourishment for its final growth phase.]

[Time Limit: 30 Days (before Wyrmling starves and re-enters dormancy).]

[Objective 1: Provide [1x Vial of C-Rank Shadow-Wraith Ectoplasm].]

[Objective 2: Provide [5x Ogre-Blood Rubies (D-Rank)].]

[Objective 3: Provide [1x Heart of a Rock Golem (C-Rank)].]

[Reward: 1x Loyal Abyssal Wyrmling (Mythical-Grade Companion), Title: 'Dragon-Blooded'.]

I stared at the quest log. Shadow-Wraiths? Ogre-Blood Rubies? A Golem's Heart? These weren't things I could buy at the local market, even with Victor's help. These were specific, high-tier monster drops from D-Rank and C-Rank dungeons.

My quiet, restful vacation was officially, irrevocably over. I had secured my family, but in the process, I had just given myself the most demanding mission of my new life.

The egg in my lap pulsed again, warmer this time.

…hungry… feed…

I sighed, rubbing my throbbing temples. "This," I muttered to the impossibly demanding Mythical-grade egg, "is going to be very, very complicated."

____

The low, warm thrum of the Abyssal Wyrmling Egg, now safely tucked in my dimensional storage, was a constant, demanding presence in the back of my mind.

Hungry… feed… It was a persistent, low-level telepathic noise, like aMythical-grade housecat demanding a snack.

My family was safe, the guild was stable, and I had a new, all-consuming personal quest: feed the dragon.

My system log was clear: [Ogre-Blood Rubies] and a [Heart of a Rock Golem].

I brought the request to the new guild 'board meeting' which consisted of me, Marcus, and my father, seated in the back office, now managed by Victor Arkwright.

"The Quarrystone Pit?" Darius frowned, his face etched with the old, familiar lines of caution.

"Michael, that place is just an E-Rank quarry. The ogres there are barely D-Rank, and the Golem sightings are unreliable. It's... small-time. Barely worth the fuel for a full team."

"That's exactly why we should go," I countered, tapping the projected map. I had my cover story prepared.

"It's not a glorious dungeon, which means the Iron Vipers won't be watching it. It's a resource run, plain and simple.

The Dawn Guild contract requires a steady supply of low-grade Ogre materials and earth-elemental cores.

This quarry provides both." I leaned forward, lowering my voice. "It's also the perfect, low-risk environment to test the new Alpha Squad's coordination after the Grizzly Pass fight. A 'cooldown' mission."

Marcus, who had been silently observing, gave a single, slow nod.

"His logic is sound, Father. A high-intensity battle like the Chieftain's must be followed by a low-intensity integration drill. It solidifies the team's trust in their new leader. It's a standard cultivator training doctrine."

My father, caught between my practical (and false) business logic and Marcus's ancient (and equally false) training doctrine, didn't stand a chance.

He sighed, rubbing his temples. "Fine. A resource run. Take the Alpha Squad—Garth, Sila, the twins. And Marcus, you stick to him. Do not let him do anything... 'creative'."

"Of course, Father," Marcus and I said in perfect, practiced unison.

____________________

Two days later, we stood at the entrance to the Quarrystone Pit.

It was less a "cavern" and more a massive, gaping hole in the earth, a defunct mining operation that had accidentally punched through into a shallow E-Rank dungeon layer.

The air smelled of damp stone, iron ore, and the faint, musky scent of ogres.

My team was a different unit now. Garth, his broken arm now healed thanks to a C-Rank potion I'd 'acquired' through Victor, stood with his new tower shield, his skepticism replaced by a quiet, unwavering readiness.

Sila, Riker, and Kael were the same—alert, professional, their eyes fixed on me, awaiting orders.

The respect they'd shown after Grizzly Pass had solidified into loyalty.

"Alright," I said, my voice echoing slightly in the quarry entrance.

"This is a simple harvest. Sila, you have aerial recon. Riker, Kael, you're on flank security and trap duty. Garth, Marcus, you're the frontline with me. We move as one. No heroics, just efficiency. Let's go."

"Aye, sir!" Garth boomed, his voice echoing with enthusiasm.

We descended into the darkness. The quarry was, as expected, straightforward. The tunnels were wide, reinforced with old mining supports.

The primary inhabitants were D-Rank 'Quarry Ogres,' smaller, weaker cousins of the brutes we'd fought in the pass.

They were no match for us. My team, now a well-oiled machine, moved with lethal precision.

"Contact, left tunnel!" Sila would call from a high ledge.

"Garth, engage!" I'd command.

Garth would slam his shield, taking the Ogre's clumsy club-strike with a confident .

CLANG.

"Marcus, hamstring! Twins, finish!"

Marcus would blur in, his blade severing the beast's tendon, and the twins would follow, a flurry of daggers ending the creature before it could even roar.

We cleared the Ogre dens in less than an hour, harvesting six [Ogre-Blood Rubies]—small, D-Rank gems that crystallized near their hearts, fulfilling the first part of my quest.

The team was ecstatic at the efficiency, stacking up valuable mana cores and materials for the guild.

"Clearing is complete, Michael," Marcus reported, wiping his blade.

"All D-Rank threats neutralized."

"Not all," I said, my gaze fixed on the deepest part of the quarry, where a massive, sealed stone door stood. "That's our final target."

Garth frowned. "That door? The old miners' guild sealed that. Said it was a dead end that emitted toxic gas."

"They were wrong," I said simply, walking toward it. I recognized the faint C-Rank mana signature seeping from the cracks. This was the Golem's lair. "This is where the C-Rank Golem sightings are coming from."

I placed my hand on the stone. It was cold, vibrating faintly. "Garth, open it."

(To be continued)

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