Synthesis-type adventurers

Chapter 7 Contracts and Shackles

The red dragon is dead.

This is a truism, but confirming it is not an easy process.

Rod looked like a lizard crawling out of a mud pit, his body covered in hardening mud.

He carefully avoided Kyle, who had been reduced to a human-shaped charcoal, and stepped onto the scorching hot, glassy ground with his boots, the sizzling sound of which made his teeth ache.

The smell of sulfur mixed with the smoky aroma of cooked meat forced into the nasal cavity.

Ironically, the greasy aroma made Rod's stomach, which had been tormented by dark bread for so long, clench violently.

"Tsk, even in my past life, no matter how long the work schedule was (996), at least I could eat meat with every meal. Unlike now..."

He ignored the deputy commander, who was burned to a crisp; the money bag on a dead man's body couldn't grow legs.

His target was that behemoth that occupied half the riverbank.

Even if it were completely dead, the remaining dragon's might would still be like a heavy stone slab pressing on one's chest, almost suffocating one.

Rhodes swallowed the air mixed with ashes, forcing a sliver of strength into his trembling knees.

This is a real treasure!

"Calm down, Rhodes. Greed is a fast track to death, and Kyle, that idiot, is a prime example."

"This thing is a ticking time bomb. If it's not handled properly, the remaining magic could blow this area for miles around into the sky at any moment."

Rhodes crouched down and pressed his palm against the crimson dragon scales.

The heat penetrated the leather gloves, and a burning sensation instantly shot through my palms.

As [Analysis Vision] was activated, his previously pitch-black world was torn apart by a blinding orange-purple light.

[Red Dragon Corpse]

Entry:

[Fragmented Red Dragon Blood (Orange Epic)]: Although most of it has been lost and cooled down, it still contains a violent power that can change the very nature of life.

[Ember Dragon Breath (Purple Rare)]: The last unexploded dragon breath accumulated in the throat pouch, extremely unstable.

……

Only two are available.

The rest either lacks value for divestiture or have been completely destroyed in the recent outbreak.

But that's enough.

These two things were the foundation upon which he made his living in the second half of his life.

"Stripping".

The moment the mental power was activated

Rhodes felt as if someone had shoved a red-hot iron rod into his temple, violently stirring his brain.

"Well!"

A painful groan escaped from deep in his throat, and Rod's body began to spasm uncontrollably.

To bypass a level altogether, especially by crossing three major levels, is to gamble with one's life.

The floodgates of nosebleed opened wide, instantly staining his clothes red.

The world before his eyes spun around him, and Rhode's ears were filled with countless overlapping auditory hallucinations—the lingering roars of the dragon soul.

"Get out here!"

Rhodes bit his tongue, the rusty taste spreading in his mouth, the excruciating pain forcibly cleaving a sliver of clarity in his brain.

Within the consciousness space, mental energy transformed into greedy tentacles, tightly enveloping the two dazzling lights and tearing them off the massive corpse bit by bit.

Time has lost its meaning.

The excruciating pain that felt like it was tearing my soul finally subsided, replaced by a complete exhaustion that drained my body.

[Stripped: Fragmented Red Dragon Blood (Orange Epic) x1]

[Stripped: Ember Dragon Breath (Purple Rare) x1]

Rod slumped onto the scorching hot gravel, panting heavily, his vision even becoming somewhat blurred.

Luckily it was an inanimate object.

If it were a living dragon, the backlash from just one glance at analyzing all the entries would probably burn its brains to a crisp.

After a full five minutes, Rod shakily pulled out the folding entrenching tool he always carried.

Next comes the destruction of evidence.

The wounds on the dragon's corpse were too obvious—aside from a few impact wounds, they were all traces of the dragon's breath devouring itself.

The guild's high-level appraisers are not blind; they can easily deduce the battle situation and trace the clues to find that someone stole the dragon blood and dragon breath.

In this world, there are countless spells that can make the dead "speak".

Therefore, this dragon must have "self-destructed".

Rod gripped the entrenching tool tightly.

This is just a cheap piece of pig iron, with several cracks on the wooden handle.

He took a deep breath, his consciousness drawing upon the extremely unstable purple light cluster within the space—[Ember Dragon Breath].

"load."

The target was the entrenching tool in his hand.

A mournful cry of unbearable burden came from Rhodes's consciousness.

The moment the purple term touched the edge of the concept of a shovel, the real shovel head quickly turned red and softened, and blue smoke rose from the wooden handle.

Ordinary iron cannot withstand the power of the dragon's breath.

But that's exactly the effect Rhodes needed.

Overload is equivalent to detonation.

He squeezed out the last bit of strength from his muscles and hurled the shovel, which was about to turn into a magma bomb, into the dragon's half-open maw, plunging it deep into its throat.

Then, Rod did not turn around.

Of course, it wasn't about pretending to be some kind of "real man never looks back at an explosion," but rather that when it came to matters of life and death, there was no room for carelessness, so he immediately turned around and rushed to the low-lying area on the other side of the riverbank.

"boom!"

The earth throbbed violently beneath my abdomen, and a dull, thunderous roar pounded against my eardrums.

A wave of heat swept over him, and even with his back to the explosion site, Rhode could feel it sweeping over him, taking away the last bit of moisture from his back.

Rhodes looked back and saw that the dragon head, which had once retained its outline, had now turned into a deep pit emitting thick smoke.

The dragon's neck exploded, and blood, flesh, and bone fragments sprayed everywhere in a radial pattern, completely obscuring the original cause of death.

Even the most discerning necromancer, faced with this pile of rotten flesh, could only draw one conclusion: the dragon's breath had backfired, and the head had exploded.

"Well done."

Rod spat out a mouthful of bloody saliva and staggered to his feet.

He quickly completed the recycling before the [Ember Dragon Breath] entry was downgraded to blue and about to dissipate after losing its carrier.

Step one complete.

So, what's next...?

Rhodes's gaze swept toward the edge of the riverbank not far away.

A charred and deformed tower shield stood alone in the pile of rocks, with a clump of charred charcoal curled up behind it.

Rod walked over and kicked away the gravel with the tip of his boot.

Avira Griffin.

This woman's current appearance is so striking that even her own father, who cruelly exiled her, probably wouldn't recognize her.

His tattered chainmail was fused to his flesh, his left cheek was covered in blisters, and his once brilliant golden hair was now reduced to a few charred, withered strands.

Her breath was like a spider's thread that could snap at any moment.

【Avira Griffin】

Condition: Deep coma/organ failure

Entry:

[Near Death (Gray Inferior)]: The flame of life is about to be extinguished. Time remaining: 11 minutes and 24 seconds.

[Severe burns (grayish inferior quality)]: 70% of the skin is carbonized, with an extremely high risk of infection.

[Unwavering Will (Blue Excellent)]: Even after losing consciousness, it still holds on to its last breath.

[......]

……

You're lucky to be alive.

Or rather, it's tough enough.

He raised his shield to withstand the aftershocks of the dragon's breath, and miraculously, he still had a breath left.

Rhodes looked down at her, his thoughts oscillating between "finishing off the entry" and "rescuing" for less than two seconds.

Killing her, with my current depleted mental energy, would at most strip away one blue term.

Although Rhodes didn't consider himself a good person, killing his companion for a mere entry—even if only nominally—truly crossed the line for a modern person.

Besides, that stupid woman did try to save someone just now.

If we could save her...

An excellent tank with the two blue stats [Guardian Knight] and [Unyielding Will].

A homeless, single-minded, hardworking, and easily manipulated human shield.

In this perilous world, a teammate who can block attacks without backstabbing is as rare as a divine artifact.

invest.

This is a high-risk, high-return angel investment.

Rod crouched down, his right hand hovering over Avira's bloodied and mangled face.

His mental energy had long since dried up, but the gray glow of the [Near Death] entry was still quite glaring.

"You should be glad I was born in a society governed by the rule of law in my previous life, and that I haven't been completely assimilated by this cannibalistic world in these three months... Consider it something you owe me." Rhodes gritted his teeth, forcibly overdrawing the last bit of his mental energy, "Strip the [Near Death] entry."

hum.

That familiar, excruciating pain in my brain struck again, as if my brain was being violently churned, sharper than ever before.

Rhodes swayed and almost fell headfirst onto Avira.

In the end, he had a hazy ball of light in his hand, which he stored in his consciousness space.

At that moment, the charred corpse on the ground suddenly twitched.

Her weak breathing became heavy, and a faint trace of color appeared on her originally ashen face—beneath her intact skin.

The scythe that Death extended was kicked back by Rhode.

But this only pulled Avira back from the brink of death. Rhodes' mental strength was completely exhausted, and she still needed medicine to treat her burns and infections all over her body.

Rhodes, panting heavily, turned and began digging through the ruins of the camp.

He found two surviving storage pouches at the location where Kyle had turned to ashes.

Enchanted leather goods have excellent fire resistance; apart from the charred exterior, the interior remains intact.

A bag of gold coins, about fifty or sixty in total.

Several bottles of red, basic healing potion.

There's also a bottle of light blue, minor mana restoration potion!

Rodton was overjoyed and immediately pulled out the cork, tilting his head back to drink it down.

The cool liquid slid into my stomach, finally quenching my thirst and relieving my splitting headache.

He picked up a bottle of healing potion and returned to Avira's side.

The woman has woken up.

Or rather, he was awakened by pain.

Avira struggled to open her intact right eye. Her emerald pupils dilated for a moment, focusing on Rhodes's dusty face before sliding away.

Scorched earth, severed limbs, dead dragons, and ashes scattered everywhere—those were clearly her teammates.

"They're all...dead?" Her voice was rough and hoarse, like two pieces of sandpaper rubbing against each other, almost squeezed out of her throat.

“It’s obvious.” Rhodes shook the empty medicine bottle in his hand. “Besides us, there isn’t even a single rat left.”

The light in Avira's eyes went out.

That was a despair deeper than death.

Her hand trembled as she reached for her waist, where a short dagger, not completely burned, hung.

"I... I deserve to die..." Avira muttered to herself, her wrist weak, yet she pressed the blade against her carotid artery with unusual determination. "I failed to protect... the knight's... shame..."

For the Griffin family knights who valued honor above life, the fact that their employers were wiped out due to their negligence in guarding them meant that surviving was indeed more unacceptable than dying.

Even if the other party is a scumbag like Kell von Hohenheim.

Should he commit suicide as an apology?

Rhodes was not surprised at all.

He stepped forward and kicked Avira's wrist.

"Clatter".

The dagger slipped from his hand and struck the still-warm rock.

Avira's wrists drooped limply.

Unable to gather the items, she could only stare intently at Rhodes with her bloodshot eye, a beast-like growl escaping her throat: "Why...why...save me? Let...me...die..."

She knew very well that she would never have woken up from that near-death state without someone's intervention.

The man in front of her had pulled her back from the brink of death to save her.

"Let you die? And then feel at ease going to hell with the debt of saving your life?" Rhodes looked down at him, his tone chilling. "I didn't drag you out to watch you perform a cowardly act of self-destruction."

"What can I do in this state?" Avira's voice carried a hint of self-mockery and desolation. She tried to lift her charred arm, but only to be met with excruciating pain. "This flesh is rotten beyond repair... I can no longer... serve you as a knight..."

She claimed to be a useless cripple, but in reality, she was questioning Rhodes:

What do you gain from saving someone like me?

What value do you have in a knight who can't even hold a sword?

Rod saw through the probing in her words and a smile appeared on his lips.

"Who says you can't recover?" He crouched down, looking directly into those eyes that burned with a flame of confusion amidst despair. "I will heal your body. Not only heal it, but make it stronger than before. This little injury is nothing compared to true power."

Avira was stunned.

Cured?

Even stronger than before?

This is not something that ordinary medical solutions can do.

This promise sounds like a fantasy.

On what grounds does he say that?

Isn't he just a low-level logistics staff member?

Confusion instantly overwhelmed Avira's despair.

She could sense that Rhodes wasn't just making things up; his certainty was undeniable.

This man seems to actually have a way of doing it.

Rhodes didn't give her much time to think. He took a piece of parchment and a charcoal pencil from Kyle's pouch and quickly drafted a contract.

"According to the Code of Chivalry, a life saved must be repaid with sword and blood. Now, your life is mine, and you cannot die without my consent."

He slapped the parchment onto Avira's melted armor on her chest.

"This is your choice. Either die now as a traitor and bring shame upon the Griffin emblem, or put away your pathetic pride and live as my knight until you repay this debt."

No money was mentioned, only gratitude.

Rhodes gave her the choice, but there was only one answer to this question.

The knightly code is a shackle etched into one's very bones.

A life-saving grace is greater than heaven, and betrayal is more shameful than death.

The suicidal intent in Avira's eyes was completely replaced by a complex emotion, a mixture of confusion, resentment, and bewilderment, but not the resolute determination to die.

She didn't understand why Rod would save a cripple, nor did she understand where his confidence in curing himself came from, but she knew she couldn't seek death any longer.

"I... Avira Griffin...swear in the name of a knight..." Her voice was still hoarse, but it carried a newfound resolve befitting a knight, "Until I repay your debt of gratitude...my sword...will fight for you."

The final oath exhausted Avira's strength.

"very good."

Rod grabbed her still-bleeding finger and pressed it down at the end of the parchment.

The bloody handprint was clear and conspicuous.

The contract is reached.

Rhodes put away the parchment with satisfaction, folded it neatly, and put it in his inner pocket.

Only then did he unscrew the bottle of red potion, roughly pry open Avira's mouth, and pour the liquid into her mouth.

"Cough cough..."

The medicine spilled from the corner of his mouth, but most of it went into his stomach.

The alchemical potion took effect, and the horribly charred wound began to slowly thaw. It was still a long way from healing, but at least his life was completely saved.

Moreover, given the ability of potions to separate Rhodes's signature, Avira's burns and disfigurement are nothing to worry about.

Rhodes stood up and took one last look at the ruins.

Kyle's sword hilt, Buck's money bag, and those charred corpses that might still be salvageable...

It's time to wrap things up.

Rhodes activated [Analysis Vision] for a quick scan.

Suppressing the splitting headache, he used his slightly restored mental energy to peel away the two remaining blue attributes from Kyle's body: the active skill [Swift Steps], which slightly increased movement speed, and the passive skill [Basic Swordsmanship Mastery].

This was the last remaining value of that silver-level expert, something Rhodes had coveted for a long time.

After doing all this, waves of dizziness washed over me.

As for the debuffs on his other unlucky teammates, Rhodes couldn't care less at this point.

I cannot collapse. To fall unconscious in this place filled only with dead dragons and cripples would be tantamount to suicide.

Rod once again shouldered his heavy pack, discarding the team members' messy and worthless belongings, and filled it with his "first pot of gold".

Then, Rod walked over to Avira, picked up the still-hot, broken shield with one hand, and placed Avira on it as a temporary means of transportation to facilitate a safe return journey.

"I'm leaving, my knight debt slave."

Rod gritted his teeth, supporting almost the weight of two people, and moved slowly towards Rust Harbor.

The night wind still howled.

This time, there seemed to be a crisp sound of gold coins clattering in the wind.