Drakes Are Monsters
Drakes are monsters. That's a fact guaranteed by his master, Eredis. Ian had heard about the dangers of drakes from her so often that his ears were practically calloused.
'Never! Never fight one! Run for your life without looking back! Just focus on escaping!'
A drake was a monstrous beast powerful enough to take on an entire army single-handedly. A massive body like a moving boulder. Thick scales that could deflect axes and hammers. Highly acidic liquid secreted from pores all over its body when stressed. Vicious breath laced with bacteria that induced hallucinations. At this point, it was hard not to suspect it wasn't a naturally born creature but some kind of bio-weapon engineered for a specific purpose.
A dozen or so bandits, a handful of caravan laborers, a mage, a traveler, and a whore. Against that ragtag bunch of humans, there was zero chance of subduing a fantasy monster like that.
The drake finished chewing the bandit in its mouth and let out a ferocious roar.
Every human, Ian included, felt a bone-chilling terror that froze their blood. When a monster that crunched people like dog treats was right in front of you, feeling fear was the only normal reaction.
"...Kill the mage as fast as possible..."
"You fucking lunatic, have you lost your mind?!"
The bandit leader muttered, sparking infighting among the bandits. He tried ordering an attack, but aside from a few underlings, everyone turned tail.
"Run, all of you! If you wanna live, run, you idiots!"
As his men fled, the leader had no choice. He glanced around hesitantly, then finally moved—too late.
Crunch!
The drake plucked off the bandit leader's head like ripe fruit. Pinning his back with a forepaw and raking with its jaws, it turned him into a tasty snack in an instant.
"Urk... ugh."
"Gaaahhh!"
The caravan laborers screamed, vomited, and panicked. The drake's mukbang was way too intense for them to stomach.
Ian was shocked too.
'...'
But unlike the others, half his mind was elsewhere.
New Skill Acquired!
The ability to communicate with mystery lifeforms and call them forth.
The Status Window popped up suddenly in front of his eyes. Seeing it after so long gave Ian a moment to shake off the fear.
'Summoning?'
Communicate with mystery lifeforms. That's what it said in the skill menu.
Based on his experiences so far, that drake was a kind of mystery. And if it was a mystery...
With the Summoning skill, he could talk to it...!
'No other choice.'
Ian steeled himself. His only shot was persuading the drake with Summoning. If that failed, he'd be drake chow.
'Stay firm. Be bold.'
Ian knew the world's mysteries approached him favorably, though he didn't know why. Maybe because he was a reincarnator, perhaps even human-shaped mystery itself. One thing was certain: they'd never betrayed him yet.
Ian widened his eyes.
"[Drake!]"
Fluent Maronius Language poured from Ian's mouth.
"Grrr..."
The drake turned its head at the magical tongue.
"Eek!"
"M-Mage, sir...!"
The laborers collapsed, legs giving out. Facing overwhelming terror stripped humans of their fight; they could only beg for mercy. But they pinned their hopes not on the drake's mercy—on Ian's power. They believed in the mage's miracle.
"[I! Am! Your! Friend!]"
Ian enunciated the Maronius Language carefully, hoping his intent reached.
"Grrr..."
"[Friend! No harm!]"
"Grrr..."
"[Fight! Hate!]"
"Grrr..."
'What the hell is it saying?'
But his will hit a wall. The drake reacted, so it was getting through—but nothing came back.
'Aptitude limit, huh...'
Ian recalled Eredis's lessons. People had talents and weaknesses; mages too, with mysteries. Eredis meshed perfectly with fire's voice, becoming a top pyromancer. Ian heard most mysteries well—thanks to the skill window, probably. Shadows whispered clearest; he had a knack for Umbrakinesis.
Key point: he wasn't strong in Summoning.
"Grrr..."
The drake didn't budge. Time for drastic measures.
'Fuck it.'
Ian pulled up the skill window and dumped all his bonus XP into Summoning.
LV UP!
LV UP!
Skill: Summoning – Lv 3
You are now a decent summoner.
Bold investment. Ian had no clue what Summoning entailed. Didn't matter. About to be puppy chow? Why hoard points? As the ancient sages said: hoard too much, and it turns to shit.
With Summoning at Lv 3, Ian tried again.
"[Mr. Drake.]"
Smoother, more natural words. The rote Maronius Language flexed with his will, edging toward conversational.
It had been responding curtly; frustration from one-way chat.
'Works like a charm.'
Ian was genuinely impressed. A little level-up, and smooth talk? What about other magics—did leveling ease mystery chats?
"[I don't want to fight you.]"
Ian opened negotiations calmly and politely. Lives on the line—his, the laborers', the travelers'.
"[You're right, Lord Drake. To you, we're worthless vermin, no better than rats. But if we leave cleanly on our own feet, why waste effort killing pests?]"
Ian didn't smile. The drake's killing intent pricked his skin like needles. It had no intention of letting them go yet.
The drake's gaze pinned Ian, killing intent sharp as claws.
'...Frontal assault.'
He pushed through the numbing pressure.
"[May I ask what's soured your mood?]"
Ian whispered mysteries in Maronius Language. Sky, earth, shadows, flames stirred in response. Magecraft.
Killing intent faded, replaced by curiosity.
"[As you see, I'm a mage probing the mysteries' edges. If possible, I'd lend my humble skills to aid you, however slightly.]"
'...Immediate threat neutralized.'
No more instant squish. But talks just started. Curiosity bought time, but no clue what it'd demand.
'Keep it smooth.'
Ian recalled Eredis's teachings. Starting mystery chat was magic's first step. But magic completed when the mystery manifested the mage's will. In short, magic built mage-mystery bonds: friends, boss-subordinate, or cold business partners. Mysteries varied in preferences... so mages needed social savvy. No wonder wise folks became mages.
'Come on, almighty skill window!'
Ian scanned Summoning.
Excerpt from "Summoning for Dummies: Even You Can Do It!" by Demonite
The key to Summoning is building bonds with mystery lifeforms. High-intelligence ones think like humans, so proper rituals and offerings yield amazing results.
'Ritual and offering!'
Eredis had stressed them, but only for elementals. Ian checked Summoning's version...
And blinked in disbelief.
"Prep some fxxking good booze and feed it. Stronger for big ones, fragrant for small. Then butter them up like hell. —Demonite"
'What the fuck?'
This was ritual and offering? Booze and ass-kissing...?
INFP Ian bluescreened. This was E-type extrovert territory!
But he steeled up again. Fail here, die. Trust Lv 3 Summoning and go big.
"[Lord Drake, I've prepared a gift for you.]"
"[Yes. Have you ever received a gift from humans?]"
The drake laughed at the question.
You'd need to meet a talking human first.
Ian smiled. "[You'll love it.]"
Snap!
"Rick. Go down with the folks and grab some booze."
"B-Booze, sir?"
"Yeah. Strongest stuff you've got."
"Got it!"
Ian caught his breath, watching Rick bolt to the wagons. First button fastened.