I'm sprawled in Lord Crestmoore's stables, hay jabbing my arse, the 30 kg weight of N'Nazmuz's curse gouging the stone floor as I hover over my black egg, its red veins pulsing like Tira's phoenix tattoo when she's ready to torch someone. Ten Spirit Stones 3 level cradle it, my spatial ring stuffed: 22 Spirit Stones 4 level, 45 Spirit Stones 3 level, 230 Spirit Stones 2 level, 200 Spirit Stones 1 level, 470 gold coins, and Wyrm loot—7 kg of scales, a fang, some claws, maybe a tooth. "Grow, you slick snek," I purr, stroking the shell like it's Bera's curves—round, warm, begging for a squeeze.Bera and Tira barge in, Fire Qi flaring. Bera's Peak Expert Fire sparks like a flint, her hips swaying in that skirt that's more holes than fabric. Tira's Peak Master Fire blazes like a forge, her phoenix tattoo glinting under her tight tunic. "Killy, the quarry mission's today!" Bera snaps, chest heaving. "Clear Zenoite Krovars, grab Crestmoore's blue relic—2-star status is ours!" Tira growls, "You're ditching us for that egg?" I grin, curse dragging as I lean on my Pyroclast Dual Swords, their Teridian edges catching the light. "Ladies, my snek's hatching. You got this—find Zephyr, that black kitty. Offer 20 Spirit Stones 2 level, paid after."Bera's eyes blaze. "The egg's worth more than our 2-star shot?" Tira huffs, "Your 'sword' picks scales over us?" Jogen, Beginner Master Wind, stammers, dodging Tira's gaze—lad's smitten worse than me with their backsides. "I-if Killyaen's not here when it hatches, the beast'll bond with whoever's closest. Might see 'em as its… parent." I cackle, "I'm gonna be a daddy!" Bera and Tira storm off, fuming, muttering about my "egg fetish" as they hunt for Zephyr to tackle the Krovars. Jealousy looks damn good on 'em.Alone with my glowpickle, I'm restless, so when Gorzka, Beginner Grand Master Lightning from the Beast Tamer Guild, struts in, I'm all eyes. Green skin, Lightning Qi crackling like a storm, thighs that could snap my spine—and I'd beg for it. "Oi, elf, hands off that egg," she growls, sparks flying. I grin, curse gouging as I step closer. "Gorzka, love, your 'eggs' outshine this one. Wanna tame my beast?" I pat my groin guard—Supreme Sword Sleeps Here. Her Lightning Qi zaps the air. "I'll fry your pretty face!" she roars, but her eyes linger on my smirk. I dodge her mock swing, laughing, "Fry me, then kiss it better!" She huffs, cheeks greening, threatening to toss me into the hay. "Keep talking, I'll spark your 'sword'!" Yet she smirks, drawn to my chaos. I toss her a Spirit Stone 1 level, joking, "For your trouble, lightning lass." She snatches it, muttering, "Lucky you're funny," her spark-filled glance screaming she'd jump me if I pushed harder. She storms out, vowing to "smash me next time." Gods, I love a feisty orc.The egg cracks, Darkness Qi spilling like spilled ale. A 0.45-meter basilisk slithers out—Shadowveil scales, crimson eyes, red barb glinting. Varkoth, Beginner Scholar Darkness, coils around my forearm, hissing at my grin. "Jeez, I got two snakes now!" I yell, winking at my groin. "C'mere, kiss your big brother!" Varkoth flicks his tail, dodging my puckered lips, and I cackle, sprawling on the hay, curse gouging deeper. "Picky snek! How 'bout Crotch Cobra?" His Dread Glare hits—a 0.7-second dizzy spell—and I stumble, laughing. Jogen gasps, his Beginner Master Wind spiritual sense blank. "I-I can't sense its cultivation. Nothing! It's… a basilisk, but…" He fumbles for jade slips, pressing them to his forehead, scanning records. His face pales, staring at me and Varkoth. "Never seen one like this." He scribbles a letter, hands shaking, and shoves it at me. "Read this alone. My contract binds me." I shrug, tucking it away, and toss out names: "Gaze Daddy," "Slick Willy," "Shadow Nugget." Varkoth hisses, slithering mock lunges, eyes rolling. "Fine, fancy snek, how's Varkoth? After that loser Varko, but cooler." He blinks approval, morphing into a Shadowveil bracer."Supreme Elf's got the slickest snek!" I boast, Pyroclast Swords sparking as I swing, curse slowing my strikes but amplifying their force with Heaven Splitter's weight. No Beast Tamer contract needed—Varkoth's mine, my chaos daddy vibes sealing it. His Umbral Shroud could cloak me in a 3-meter mist, and Shadow Bind makes my swords look demonic. I'm swinging, cackling about "two snakes ruling Crestmoore," when my split-leaf amulet pulses near a Zenoite carving on the stable wall. Bad ale, not some ancient ruin nonsense. "Let's flex, Varkoth!"I'm itching to hit Crestmoore's market or Starveil Auction House, but Sunday's auction is days away, and traders would lowball my Wyrm loot—7 kg of scales, a fang, claws, maybe a tooth. I decide to hoard it all, stashing it in my spatial ring for the next auction when I've scavenged more materials. A bigger haul means a bigger payout, and I'm not some desperate peasant dumping loot for scraps. Besides, Lila's Beginner Master Earth rumored return has merchants buzzing. "Earth queen's too proud to stay gone," I mutter, amulet pulsing near a Zenoite coin etched with waves. "The Child binds the Shadow"? More ruin nonsense—I'm here for pranks, not prophecies.At The Iron Bloom, I flaunt Varkoth's bracer form, drunks chanting "Shadow Serpent's Master!" Bera, Tira, and Zephyr limp in, battered but smug, their Fiery Fissure badges gleaming with 2-star pride. Bera's Peak Expert Fire flickers, her arm bruised, skirt torn just enough to make my eyes wander. "Krovars dead, blue relic secured, 2-star status ours—no thanks to you, egg-obsessed pervert!" Tira's Peak Master Fire blazes, her phoenix tattoo glowing as she leans close, her scent like scorched spice. "You missed a hell of a fight, Killy. Those Krovars were brutal." I grin, curse gouging the tavern floor as I lean back. "Spill it, hot stuff. How'd my crew pull it off?"Bera slumps into a chair, wincing, her curves still distracting despite the dirt smudged on her cheek. "The quarry's tunnels were tighter than your brain, Killy. Zenoite Krovars—Beginner Master Earth—burrowed like demons, their scales shrugging off my Fire Qi. My Blazing Crescent barely dented 'em; I had to aim for their eyes, but one nearly crushed my skull with a tail swipe." Tira nods, her Fire Qi flaring, tunic clinging to her in all the right places. "I took down seven with Phoenix Talon kicks, targeting their joints. But the matriarch—gods, she was a monster. Her Earth Spike Barrage collapsed a Zenoite vein, nearly burying us." Zephyr, his black fur singed, growls, "My Shadow Claw ripped her throat out. Saved their arses." He smirks at Tira, eyes glinting. "Admit it, my moves kept you sharp."Tira scoffs, "Sharp? You were whispering about my 'fiery curves' while I dodged rocks!" Bera laughs, clutching a rib. "We found the blue relic—a sapphire orb glowing like a star—in the matriarch's lair. Thought we'd lose it when she charged. Zephyr's Umbral Veil distracted her, but his flirting threw Tira off—she missed a kick, nearly got us crushed." Tira glares. "Says the one who burned half the tunnel in a panic!" I cackle, Varkoth hissing in sync. "Sounds like a party! Next time, my snek's stealing the show." My amulet pulses faintly near the table, probably from that relic talk, but I shrug it off—relics are for nerds, not Supreme Elves.Tira leans closer, her tattoo glinting, and lowers her voice, her breath warm against my ear. "That's not the worst of it, Killy. Zephyr wouldn't shut up after the fight. Kept purring about 'taming my flames' and 'pairing up under the stars.' Mid-battle, I can ignore it, but afterward? I nearly singed his tail off with a Flame Burst." She rolls her eyes, smirking, her tunic shifting just enough to make my pulse race. "He's got balls, I'll give him that, but I'd rather wrestle a Krovar than deal with his cheesy lines." I laugh, slapping Zephyr's back. "Kitty, you're punching above your weight! Tira's too hot for your shadow tricks." Zephyr growls, but his grin betrays him, sipping his ale like he's plotting his next move.Then Zephyr, ale-loosened, leans back and drops a bomb. "You're one to talk, Killy. That night you snagged that blonde human girl was pure luck. No lass rejects an alpha like me." Bera, Tira, and I freeze. "Blonde girl?" they snap in unison, Fire Qi flaring like twin volcanoes. I laugh, curse dragging as I wave it off. "Tavern talk, kitty!" But Bera's eyes blaze, Peak Expert Fire Qi roaring like a furnace. She grabs my gold-tipped braid, yanking me toward a private room. "We're talking, elf." I wink at Tira and Zephyr, grinning, "Won't take long!" I could break free—curse or not, my strength's enough—but chaos is my ale, and Bera's rage is hotter than her flames.Inside, it's a warzone. Bera's Blazing Crescent fireballs singe walls, my Pyroclast Swords clang off furniture, and I dodge, laughing, the curse slowing my steps but not my mouth. "She rocked those hips better than you, Bera! Slicker than your flames!" That ignites her—explosions, crashes, no moans, just pure brawling. I taunt, "Her curves oiled my sword better!" dodging flaming fists. A chair splinters, my curse gouges the floor, and Bera's Fire Qi scorches my cloak. "Think she's better?" she roars, hurling a flaming table leg. I parry with a sword, grinning. "She didn't try to burn me!" The tavern ignores the racket after minutes, used to my nonsense. Bera's rage is half jealousy, half thrill—she loves the fight as much as I do. I'm still cackling when she lands a punch, my head spinning, but I'm too stubborn to stop poking her.That night, post-brawl, I read Jogen's letter alone, sprawled on my inn bed, the curse easing as I rest, my stamina trickling back. It warns no one can know Varkoth's a Basilisk Emperor, unscannable even by Peak Demigods, with Umbral Shroud cloaking a 3-meter mist, Dread Glare stunning for 0.7 seconds, Shadow Bind boosting my aura, and dormant Void powers. "Burn this," it reads, "say it's a Darkness Wyrm that stuck to you." I torch it with a candle, grinning. "Varkoth, my secret ace." I plan a Feather-Tickler Trap for Varko, cackling, "Crestmoore's my canvas, and I'm painting it chaotic!"
