Dragon Heart. Land Of Magic. LitRPG Wuxia Saga. Book 6

"Sister!" Tom leapt to his feet. "You don't owe this commoner anything!"

"That commoner," Dora said, "saved our lives!"

"And he almost met his forefathers in the process! Hell, we owe our lives to the tiger, not him!"

The now small Azrea was lying in the firelight. Basking in the warmth, she twitched comically in her sleep and yawned widely. She didn't look like a ferocious Ancient Beast, but a pet kitten taking a nap.

"The tigress is his," Dora said.

Azrea meowed.

Hadjar smiled. He'd always suspected that the cub only pretended to be asleep, but was actually on high alert at all times.

"All right, all right." Dora waved her hands placatingly. "No need to get angry, you fearsome beast. You're a free spirit."

Azrea meowed again and stared at the humans haughtily.

"That doesn't matter right now," Tom murmured. He sat back down and looked at Hadjar through the flames. "I have two questions for you, barbarian."

Hadjar sighed heavily. He knew exactly what questions Tom would ask him. Unfortunately, since he'd been unconscious until recently, he hadn't had the time to prepare.

"What makes you think I'll answer them?" He retorted. He wasn't looking to start a fight, just buy himself some time to think.

"Because you have no choice, barbarian!"

"Tom!" Dora exclaimed. "You aren't talking to a servant! He's our ally!"

However, judging by her tone, she was also interested in hearing what Hadjar had to say.

"That's exactly why I want to know what I can expect from him!"

Dora fell silent. She was looking at Hadjar intently, as if it wasn't Tom, but she herself who would be asking the questions.

"I don't see your Imperial investigator's medallion anywhere, Tom."

"Don't get cute with me, commoner," the young man growled. "Your life isn't worth shit to me. One more word-"

"-and the entire Wastelands will echo with the clash of our blades," Hadjar interrupted him. "Don't forget that I'm wearing our School's token too, just like you. Until we graduate, we're equals."

Tom gritted his teeth and fell silent, not because he had nothing to say, but because of Anise's insistent glare. Out of respect for his sister, he decided to leave Hadjar alone.

Hadjar thought about the graduation ceremony. Anyone who reached the middle stage of the Lord level graduated with the token of distinction. Anyone who studied there for twenty years graduated without any honors or letters of recommendation. If they'd been inner circle disciples, they could get a recommendation from a Mentor or a Master. Most just received a letter that confirmed their rank on the Solid Earth or Jade Cloud list.

"Let's just do the same thing we did with Einen," Dora suggested.

Hadjar looked at them in confusion. Einen, on the other hand, ignored them, too busy treating his friend's wounds.

"He will swear an oath to us!" Tom shouted.

"What oath?" Hadjar inquired.

He had more than enough scars on his palm, left there by the World River as evidence of his many oaths.

"That you'll never tell anyone about my sister's Spirit."

Hadjar let out a sigh of relief. He was well aware that such a thing could be a death sentence for Anise. Many people would either kill or force her to work for them if they found out about it.

Anise had once been the eldest heiress of one of the seven great clans of the Empire. With her power, nobody knew what could happen when she reached the Nameless level. To regain her former position in the clan, all she'd have to do would be to swing her sword. Her power was so potent that even the Imperial throne would shake in awe of it. Would it even be possible to control or command a Nameless level, talented swordswoman who can summon a Primordial Spirit? And what if she achieved mastery over the Sword Kingdom? Then she could even dethrone the Emperor if she so chose.

"Einen," Hadjar stated simply. He didn't have the strength to raise his hand, let alone cut his palm.

His friend nodded in understanding. Drawing his dagger, he ran it across Hadjar's palm while the latter swore the oath. His blood flared with a golden flame and the wound healed, leaving another scar behind.

"Thank… you…" Anise croaked.

Coughing, she turned away, wiped her bruised lips with a handkerchief, and took another sip of the broth.

Hadjar now knew how the four of them had managed to survive an ambush from a Nameless level assassin.

"We can swear the same oaths." Dora took out the dagger she used for cutting out monster cores. Everyone who'd once been a simple practitioner had one. However, for cultivators, these simple blades served a ritual, rather than practical purpose, as they could get cores without having to cut them out.

"You want me to swear an oath to a commoner?" Tom roared.

"Calm down, Dinos!" Dora shouted. "Hadjar is already more powerful than most mid-stage Spirit Knights. It's only a matter of time before he earns a jade token. Master Orune will then take him as his personal disciple. After graduation, you'll be equals!"

"A commoner is no match for an aristocrat."

"Idiot!"

Dora threw her bowl into the fire. She didn't realize that she came off as no better than Tom at that moment.

Hadjar and Einen looked at each other.

"Tom… please..."

Anise's voice seemed to calm the angry young man. After a moment's hesitation, Tom swore so loudly that Nero would've been delighted. Snatching the dagger from Dora, he cut his palm and vowed not to reveal the secrets he'd learn from Hadjar. Dora and Anise followed suit.

"Now tell us, barbarian," Tom said, "Where did a Heaven Soldier get such a Spirit?"

Hadjar smiled.

"It's not as complicated as it seems." He summoned the Quetzal bird into the physical world. "It's-"

"What a lovely chicken!"

Everyone turned to Einen. He cleared his throat and went back to bandaging Hadjar's wounds.

"A Chicken Spirit… It suits you. The bards will sing songs about you two."

"Oh, go to-"

All of them laughed loudly, sitting around a fire in the middle of the Wastelands, surrounded by ancient ruins bathed in the light of the stars and the moon. Sometimes, even cultivators needed to relieve tension with some laughter.

"I met a tribe of nomadic orcs in Lascan," Hadjar began. He wasn't going to reveal all his secrets, but since they'd sworn the oath, he owed them at least a couple.