CH365 Pangean-style Employment Contract
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Kavakanâs 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.
âLycanthropic shapeshifting?â Realisation struck Alex immediately.
"Alright, thatâs enough!" he called sharply. "The spar is over. Iâve seen all I need to."
He couldnât 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 Alexâs 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 wasnât stupid.
Mogal exhaled deeply and allowed his Beast Totemâs 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 powerâbut 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.
Alexâs gaze shifted to Silver and Havel.
"Itâs your turn," he announced.
"I forfeit," the two said in unisonâalmost 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. "Itâs a foregone conclusion. Iâm a textbook marksman. A confined sparring ring puts me at a complete disadvantage. Iâd be struck down before I could even nock an arrow. Thereâs 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. "Whatâs your excuse?"
Havel met Alexâs gaze with uncharacteristic sharpness. He realised that Alex wouldnât drop the matter unless he gave an answerâso, 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 shiftedâthe 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 wonât regret it,"
Drakeâs voice echoed in Alexâs ear.
A quick glance around revealed that the Legend had deliberately controlled his voice so only Alex could hear.
Alex frowned.
To say he didnât want to kick Havel would be a lieâbut not for any practical reason. The elf simply rubbed him the wrong way with that indifferent, lazy attitude.
Still, he couldnât deny the power radiating from the elf. Havel was the kind of weapon youâd want on a battlefield. The only question wasâwould he be a controllable weapon?
Then again, the fact that the elf could determine when to fightâor not toâshowed he had a degree of discipline, laziness aside.
âFine,â 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 opponentâs, and decided whether victory was possible.
That kind of judgement was indispensableânot just for an archer, but for an expedition scout.
âShe also seems familiar with the strength of the others as well. I guess I wonât have to worry about our scout getting us killed,â Alex mused.
Although the outcome hadnât unfolded exactly as expected, he had achieved his main objectiveâunderstanding his potential followers.
Turning to the Agoge Master, Alex spoke.
"Alright, letâs 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 followersâ loyalty."
âNice try. Who are you trying to fool? These are just high-grade slave contracts. They donât ensure loyaltyâthey only make sure they canât betray me to the point of causing my death.â
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 Alexâs favour.
His followers were bound to protect him with their livesâif 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 wasnât 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.
âWell, contract aside, I just have to treat them right... earn their trust and their true loyalty. Once that happens, the contract wonât matter,â 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 youâre getting yourselves into. Thereâll be no going back once you sign."
His words caught them off guard, not expecting him to warn them so sincerely.
Mogal didnât 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. Iâm not a violent man. I donât seek battleâunless it finds me."
The Barbarianâs expression faltered, but before disappointment could settle, Alexâs lips curved into a knowing smile.
"But I am a Fury. Battles seem to have a way of finding me... so youâll probably get more than your fill."
Mogalâs 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 Alexâs duty to provide resources. Since Alex had already signed, it meant heâd 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 thatâjust 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)**