CH365 Pangean-style Employment Contract

***

Kavakan's eyes gleamed with excitement.

"Haha!" He burst out laughing, his deep voice echoing through the sparring ground.

Suddenly, his body began to twist and swell, fur rippling along his arms and jaw as his features started to morph.

'Lycanthropic shapeshifting?' Realisation struck Alex immediately.

"Alright, that's enough!" he called sharply. "The spar is over. I've seen all I need to."

He couldn't allow Kavakan to shift into either his beast or hybrid forms. Once a Lycanthrope fully transformed, restraint became difficult, and the fight would escalate beyond control.

Alex had already observed what he needed, there was no reason to risk serious injury... or worse.

Kavakan clearly looked disappointed, but Alex's overwhelming display from the previous day lingered fresh in his mind. The Weretiger clenched his jaw, then slowly relaxed, reverting to his normal state.

He might be battle-hungry, but he wasn't stupid.

Mogal exhaled deeply and allowed his Beast Totem's aura to fade as well.

"Well fought," he said evenly to Kavakan before turning to Alex. He gave a slight bow of respect before taking a seat.

Alex nodded, satisfied by the gesture.

Kavakan, meanwhile, dropped onto a nearby bench and began regulating his breathing. His fighting style was raw and explosive, designed to crush opponents with overwhelming bursts of power—but even for someone like him, such exertion took its toll. Managing the fatigue, no matter how small, was the mark of a disciplined weretiger warrior.

Alex's gaze shifted to Silver and Havel.

"It's your turn," he announced.

"I forfeit," the two said in unison—almost as though it had been prearranged.

Alex frowned. "Why?"

Havel simply yawned, his lazy demeanour unbothered, then turned his gaze toward Silver, silently nominating her to answer.

Silver straightened and spoke in a calm, matter-of-fact tone. "It's a foregone conclusion. I'm a textbook marksman. A confined sparring ring puts me at a complete disadvantage. I'd be struck down before I could even nock an arrow. There's no purpose to such a fight."

Alex regarded her for a moment, then gave a faint nod of understanding before turning his attention back to Havel.

"Speak," he said firmly. "What's your excuse?"

Havel met Alex's gaze with uncharacteristic sharpness. He realised that Alex wouldn't drop the matter unless he gave an answer—so, taking the path of least resistance, he did.

"My sword is for killing," he said simply.

With that, Havel pushed the blade in his sheath forward ever so slightly with his thumb.

Immediately, a palpable wave of killing intent burst forth; sharp and suffocating.

In that instant, the languid black-haired elf seemed to transform completely. His aura shifted—the languid chill replaced by the cold focus of a predator that only knew how to draw blood.

"Ho-ho... He has potential. Keep him. you won't regret it,"

Drake's voice echoed in Alex's ear.

A quick glance around revealed that the Legend had deliberately controlled his voice so only Alex could hear.

Alex frowned.

To say he didn't want to kick Havel would be a lie—but not for any practical reason. The elf simply rubbed him the wrong way with that indifferent, lazy attitude.

Still, he couldn't deny the power radiating from the elf. Havel was the kind of weapon you'd want on a battlefield. The only question was—would he be a controllable weapon?

Then again, the fact that the elf could determine when to fight—or not to—showed he had a degree of discipline, laziness aside.

'Fine,' Alex decided eventually, gritting his teeth.

Pet peeve or not, Havel was worth the annoyance... for now. If that ever changed, he could always kick the lazy elf out later.

As for Silver, Alex had taken note of her since they sat down. The woman had excellent awareness, sharp eyes and a calm mind. She had instantly assessed her surroundings, weighed her own strength against her opponent's, and decided whether victory was possible.

That kind of judgement was indispensable—not just for an archer, but for an expedition scout.

'She also seems familiar with the strength of the others as well. I guess I won't have to worry about our scout getting us killed,' Alex mused.

Although the outcome hadn't unfolded exactly as expected, he had achieved his main objective—understanding his potential followers.

Turning to the Agoge Master, Alex spoke.

"Alright, let's complete the deal."

"Excellent, young master Alex," the man said with a smile.

He reached into his robe and produced four parchment scrolls.

"These are high-grade contract scrolls. With these, you can be certain of your new followers' loyalty."

'Nice try. Who are you trying to fool? These are just high-grade slave contracts. They don't ensure loyalty—they only make sure they can't betray me to the point of causing my death.'

Alex nearly rolled his eyes as he carefully examined each contract.

Each contract contained identical clauses and wording. They were, without a doubt, extremely skewed in Alex's favour.

His followers were bound to protect him with their lives—if Alex died, they would perish as well. But if they died, Alex would remain unharmed. His only obligation, according to the contract, was to provide resources for their growth.

There was even a clause granting him the ability to attack their minds should they ever disobey him.

It was, in every sense, a slave contract.

Though the idea disgusted him, Alex wasn't about to reject it because of the morality from his past life.

This world was different. Its rules were different. And here, such contracts were an essential safeguard. Refusing one on principle would simply be foolish.

'Well, contract aside, I just have to treat them right... earn their trust and their true loyalty. Once that happens, the contract won't matter,' he mused.

Placing his palm on the parchments, Alex bound himself as the master party. Then, one by one, he handed the contracts to his potential followers.

"Read the clauses carefully," he warned. "Understand what you're getting yourselves into. There'll be no going back once you sign."

His words caught them off guard, not expecting him to warn them so sincerely.

Mogal didn't bother reading the parchment. Instead, he looked Alex straight in the eye.

"Can you promise me a life of battle?"

Alex shook his head.

"No. I'm not a violent man. I don't seek battle—unless it finds me."

The Barbarian's expression faltered, but before disappointment could settle, Alex's lips curved into a knowing smile.

"But I am a Fury. Battles seem to have a way of finding me... so you'll probably get more than your fill."

Mogal's eyes lit up instantly.

Without hesitation, he pressed his palm to the contract, channelling a trace of energy into it. The parchment pulsed, dissolved into light, and split into two streams that sank into both men.

Kavakan, meanwhile, lingered on the clause stating Alex's duty to provide resources. Since Alex had already signed, it meant he'd accepted the burden willingly.

The Weretiger smirked.

Few people truly understood how much food and resources his kind required. Now, he had someone volunteering to cover all that—just so he could fight?

What a deal.

After all, he loved fighting. What could be better than getting paid to do what you loved?

With a cheeky grin, he placed his palm on the parchment and channelled his internal energy into it, sealing the contract.

**(15/70)**

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