Chapter 117: The Draw
[Kira POV] Year 5, Day 207 (Morning, Central)
Kira sat on top of Bad Boy at the edge of the massive staging area, watching the field full of dragons, wyverns, and everything in between.
The waiting area for all contestants — chaos in organized form, mayhem with a schedule.
And between all those dragons and wyverns—visitors. Locals. Everyone who wanted to see close up. Everyone from young to old. Rich and poor mixing freely. Basically free dragon show for those who didn't have coin to buy tickets for the inside viewing later.
Kira's merchant brain found it fascinating. [Good business model. Get them hooked on free preview. They'll pay next time. Syndicate thinking.]
She now had a hard time processing everything that had happened in the last half a day.
The attack in Borderwatch. She'd known all the girls who died. More or less. Faces. Names. Responsibilities. All gone.
Then news that death might not be ending. Souls stored in Mistress. No information what comes next. Just: stored. Waiting. Uncertain.
News that Ealdred was some ancient isekai who'd now decided to go make honorable suicide. Thousands of years of existence. Just: ending. By choice.
Someone had tried to kill Master Void. First time anyone had actually come for someone from our house with intent to kill.
And one thing she found almost comedic. [And Bunny. Bunny discovered Goddess Ear Massage.]
Kira wasn't even sure if that last one was relevant to anything important.
Thinking a bit more over it. [It actually may be one of the most important things from today. If Bunny decides it's her divine duty to serve Null in some strange ways to earn eternal afterlife of Ear Massage. Bunny is exactly the type to turn that into her sacred mission. Both Mistress and Spy calling her jokingly 'Duracell Bunny' already. Duracell means something about one who has endless energy or something. Something from Mistress's original world.]
Too much. All of it. Too much to process properly. Too much to feel appropriately about. Just: numbness. Exhaustion. Acceptance that chaos was normal now.
[Maid cafe. We were going to run a maid cafe.]
She sat. Watched around. About half an hour more, then they'd start drawing participants' order. Determine race positions. Begin the actual event.
Then she felt it. Spy watching through her eyes. The familiar sensation of someone else perceiving through her senses. Strange. Invasive but accepted.
She was kind of guessing already that Spy may come to look. [They decided it's too dangerous for Spy to use his true form here. So many people with heightened senses around, anyone could detect a divine presence. Only spying through her eyes was safe.]
Kira scanned every direction several times, observing carefully.
[Spy probably wants to see what's happening. Experience the event. This is safe way. Through me.]
Dragons and wyverns everywhere, riders preparing, crowds gathering. The whole field humming with movement and excitement.
Then Spy's voice came through the seed network. Curious. Observing.
«Oh. It's a lot of people and dragons. And why so many slaves?»
[He noticed. Of course he noticed. Collars visible. Status obvious. Slaves everywhere among the crowds.]
«It's free to watch here if you come early,» Kira sent back, voice slipping into her tour-guide tone. «We have also dragons lined up inside later but there you need tickets. And slaves—this big celebration is holiday for them. Day off.»
Spy's voice carried clear confusion and genuine surprise. «Slaves have days off?»
«Yes. Actually, Master Void has said several times it was his biggest surprise coming to Republic. How many rights slaves have here. In Kingdom he never heard anything about it. And dragon race days in Central are free days for slaves specifically. If owners can't give them that, it needs to be compensated otherwise. By law — and it's actually enforced.»
«It's quite... decent.»
Kira felt pride. Clear pride. Automatic.
«It's Republic. Not some backwater Kingdom. In Kingdom where both Master and LOVER are from, they just made calculated decision. Compensate all the freedoms given to free people with miseries of slaves. A balanced equation: cruelty dressed as governance.»
«So Kingdom is just hypocritical? Like Void said once?»
«Yes. I read somewhere Kingdom has somewhere around three to four times more slaves than other states on this continent combined.»
She paused as a relevant example came to mind.
«But situation here isn't that beautiful either. Funny example I once heard—somewhat relevant to our household. LOVER as slave in Kingdom had tongue cut off so he couldn't talk. In Republic, slave mutilation is generally not allowed. Illegal. Punishable.»
She continued through the network. Building the point.
«So in here, if you want your slave to be silent, you need to use so-called training collar. Sends pain or something each time wearer talks. And it's well documented that this law was made by Dwarven Union so they can sell more fancier collars. They've been busy exporting that law to many states. In the name of slave protection.»
The irony hung heavy — obvious and calculated.
Spy actually laughed through the bond. Genuine amusement.
«It's also quite hypocritical. Totally in Syndicate style. Profit, profit, profit dressed as morality.»
«Exactly,» Kira sent back. Slight satisfaction. «Welcome to Republic. Where everything has price. Where everything is transaction. Where even protection comes with profit margin attached.»
But she still felt proud over it. [Better than Kingdom. Measurably better. Demonstrably better. But still... complicated. Still profit-driven. Still exploitation dressed in better clothing.]
She continued watching around. More for Spy than herself. Let him see everything. Experience it through her eyes.
But also: calming her nerves about the draw. Everything would be so much simpler if she ended up before Raja in draw order.
[Simple advantage. Psychological edge. Not having to watch her sister go first. Not having to chase her time. Just: lead. Set the pace. Make her chase me instead.]
Soon Spy asked again. Clearly finding something more interesting.
«What's with those? Red cloths around necks. Wrapped around. Marking something?»
«It's mark you're looking for job,» Kira explained. «Quite common in bigger cities during various celebrations and events. Just for common labor. Fancier skills go all through guild boards and professional channels. Borderwatch is too small for this tradition yet.»
«It's quite many of them.»
«Well, for most it's two-in-one,» Kira sent. «Celebration and job hunting combined. Never know when luck may smile.» Pause. Idea forming. «Want demo?»
«Sure?»
Kira jumped off the wyvern. Landed smoothly. Scanned the crowd.
Called one catkin in the distance. Girl she'd noticed before. Quite young. In almost rags. But Kira had a feeling—in a few years she'd be real beauty. She'd also seen few people approach the girl, but whatever was offered wasn't what the girl was looking for.
[Too young for most work. Too pretty for safe work. Looking for something specific. Something better. Something that won't destroy her.]
The girl approached. Watched Kira. The wyvern next to her. Especially her eyes seemed to lock onto Kira's dragon features. Tail. Horns. Scales.
Kira had gotten a lot of stares today because of that. Nearly everyone looking. Probably calculating how many millions in dragon essence were in her body to cause this kind of crazy mutation.
She still found it funny. [Answers: none. Zero gold. Just merged with true dragon. Can't explain that to strangers though. So let them wonder.]
Kira started immediately. Direct. Professional.
"Looking for job?"
The girl nodded quickly.
"How old are you?"
"Almost sixteen."
Kira wasn't sure about that answer. No experience estimating catkin ages—they all usually looked young, which made age assessment deceptive.
"Family?"
"None."
The answer said nothing useful, so Kira pressed further. "Dead?"
"Mom is dead. Dad alive. I ran from home when he wanted to sell me."
Kira found this story familiar. [Seen enough orphan business supporting Borderwatch orphanages. Usually result of some misunderstanding, but all trust disappears after that and kids hardly ever return. Parents lose rights the moment kids are outside their care—orphanages or streets, so they lost any rights under Republic law.]
[But this girl would probably net small fortune in few years. Pretty. Young. Catkin. High demand. So selling talk may not be false. Just kid said it surprisingly emotionless. Practical acceptance — pure survival mode.]
Kira got to the point. This was meant as demo for Spy. Show how hiring worked. How contracts functioned.
"I'm head maid in an establishment." She gestured at her own dress. Professional uniform. Quality visible. "If you're willing, we're ready to give you a chance."
She pulled a contract from her spatial storage. Offered it to the girl. Standard template. Same as everyone's.
"Sign it and your new life can start."
The girl watched it with big eyes. Clearly hadn't expected anything like this. Finally could barely ask, "Is it a joke?"
"No. It's our standard contract. We take care of you, you work for us. Rest of your life." She gave the offer a beat to land, then dropped the reality check. "Or you can go beg more in here. Given that last few who approached you seemed to be all males who only counted days until you're sixteen—it's up to you."
The girl still watched the paper. Wheels clearly turning. Processing. Evaluating. Trying to understand if this was real. If this was trap. If this was salvation.
"More questions? Or sign?" Kira gestured at Bad Boy waiting nearby. "Don't have all day. Have a race to catch."
The girl finally asked — and it was a smart, careful one. "Can I see your contract?"
Kira actually felt surprise.
[This question. It's not bad question. It's quite common among smarter candidates. The ones who actually think. Who evaluate. Who want to know if they get fair deal.]
[They re-made all contracts about two years ago. Same template for everyone. Those early days contracts—like she had initially—were strange a bit. With seed those don't mostly matter anyway. Loyalty overrides legal details. But standard template looks better. More professional. More fair.]
Kira pulled copy of hers from storage. Gave it to the girl.
The girl compared. Read both side by side. Face got stranger and stranger.
"Those are same?"
"Yes. Everyone gets the same contract in our house. What you make of it is entirely up to you. So sign it, or go try your luck elsewhere."
Through the seed network, Spy asked. Curious. Observing.
«I've seen a fair amount of candidate interviews in my time. This is the strangest one yet. Think she'll sign?»
«No idea,» Kira sent back honestly. «The offer is both promising and suspicious—she probably can't tell if it's the chance of a lifetime or some scam. Too good to be true usually means scam, but desperation and fear might push her to sign anyway.»
Finally—decision visible in the girl's eyes. Fear. Hope. Something unknown mixing together.
"I'll sign."
First time emotion showed clearly. Everything compressed into those two words.
Kira took the ceremonial knife from storage—ornate, expensive, standard contract-signing tool.
She pricked her finger. Blood welling. Signed her own side of the contract first, binding her side of the agreement.
Then held the knife out to the girl. "Now your side."
The girl took it with shivering hands, trembling but determined.
The girl signed her side carefully, slowly, making sure the signature was clear and binding.
The moment both signatures completed—
The contract blinked once, then disappeared—stored automatically in banking guild vaults, registered, official, and permanent.
The girl totally panicked. Eyes wide. Stepping back. Looking around desperately for the vanished paper.
Kira almost wanted to laugh. [She'd probably never seen a magical contract in her life. Thinks it's trick. Probably thinking disappearing means void, means nothing. Doesn't understand it's real, stored, and binding.]
Kira took the ceremonial knife that the girl had dropped in her panic. Returned it to storage.
"It's a magical contract—gets stored automatically in banking guild vaults, registered officially." She paused, then delivered the simple truth. "Basically we own you now. Welcome."
Then pulled a collar from her item box—standard ownership collar, the kind used for new recruits, for tracking and security.
Snapped it around the girl's neck. Quick and professional.
The girl's eyes showed almost horror. Probably thought it was slave collar. It looked similar. Function was similar. Easy confusion.
Kira kept her voice clinical. "Ownership collar, registered to us. You get lost? Any guard is required to help you contact us. Also has telepathic link built in—stay around the arena area and we can message you."
She added a clear warning. "Don't try to remove it. It's high crime, and the collar will kill you if you tamper with it anyway—built-in self-destruct mechanism."
She felt surprised at herself over how this all happened. It was meant to be just a simple demo for Spy. She pushed it a bit more once she remembered, halfway through, an old superstition: if you want a plan to succeed, do something random first. So she made the offer on impulse.
Wasn't actually slave gear — same collar they put on greenbadges to track new recruits. Hated scaring her with the kill-on-tamper warning, but rather she be afraid than dead.
"What's your name?"
"Lala."
Kira pulled some coins from storage and handed them over for immediate practical help.
"Ok, Lala. Go eat something—you look like you could use a proper meal."
She pointed at statue nearby. Famous dragon rider. Landmark. Easy to find.
"Be there by the time the race ends. If you get a signal from the collar before that, come earlier. I'll send someone to pick you up. Understand?"
The girl nodded, accepting her fate while still processing everything.
"Go on now." Kira jumped back onto Bad Boy, settling into her riding position. "I have a race to catch. We'll talk later."
The girl walked off, probably still thinking about what just happened. What she'd just signed. What her life had just become.
Kira watched her leave. [Almost wish I had Mistress's ability to read minds. To know what's going through that girl's head right now. Fear? Hope? Regret? Relief? No idea. Just have to wait and see if this impulse decision was brilliant or stupid.]
Then her eyes caught it. [She still has red cloth around neck. Next to ownership collar. Forgot to remove it when collared. Probably really confusing combination. People will think... something. Not sure what. But something wrong.]
She called after her. Loud. "Lala! Remove the red cloth!"
Lala stopped. Too far to hear clearly. Heard name but not what was said.
Kira pointed at her own neck. Demonstrating.
The girl understood, unwrapped the red cloth, threw it away, and continued walking.
Kira saw her heading toward some food stands. Coins in hand. Hunger finally addressable.
Through the network, Spy's voice came. Amused. Observant.
«I did not expect you to actually buy someone like that. It's almost Null level of rush decisions.»
Kira felt it. The comparison. The accuracy. The uncomfortable truth.
«Yes,» she sent back, feeling bit bad. Surprised at herself, uncertain about it. «I just remembered old superstition. If you want plan to go as planned, make something random first. Plus girl is quite beautiful. In few years definitely. Even if she ends up useless, we can always use her as one of the decorative maids. New seeding has zero mortality rate. No danger there. Plus quite sure Alpha with her new whip can get some potential out of her, if nothing else helps.»
She kept building the case — for Spy, and for herself.
«In here she would probably end up as someone's toy. To be used and later discarded. Or just outright in some brothels. And probably not the good kind like our courtesans came from. We give her actual chance. Actual future. Better than alternatives.»
«You may be right,» Spy sent thoughtfully. «Your impulse—possibly dragon-affected—just changed her life forever. This Lala has no idea what waits for her.»
Kira thought about that. Was her decision dragon affected?
[Been trying to evaluate every decision since the merge. Only pattern I found: when I get mad, my behavior becomes more rushed and impulsive. Dragon instincts bleeding through—territorial, possessive, quick to claim things as mine.]
She was already thinking about all the lectures she would get over it. [I led the refactoring of our entrance tests for new candidates—painbox as main filter gives too many meatheads, all muscle and no brains. And now I made this exact mistake myself. Hired someone on pure impulse with zero evaluation, zero testing. Just saw a pretty girl, made an offer, signed the contract. Worse than Null-level rush decision—she has logic behind those usually, even if it won't compute for humans.]
«Well,» Spy sent. Making joke. Lightening mood. «Perhaps loyalty leaks. From Void's overthinking to Null's mysterious decisions. You're caught in the middle. Getting both influences.»
Kira wasn't sure what to answer for that one.
[Is he right? Do I absorb their patterns? Void's guilt. Null's impulsiveness. Both bleeding into me through the bonds?]
She saw Lala still in distance. Eating some kind of sandwich. Looking her direction occasionally. Uncertain. Waiting. Probably thinking herself crazy for signing that contract.
Kira felt bad for leaving her there confused and alone.
So she decided and made a fast seed call to Swordsman Cassian, leader of Black Wings. He had shown himself to be professional and reliable.
Fast summary of what she'd made. Girl description. Location. Instructions to pick up.
Cassian's response came back, happy and amused. «No problem. I'll send someone to collect her.»
Relief flooded through her immediately.
[Good. She won't be alone much longer. Black Wings will handle it—for a level 5 party, they're actually quite kind. Most level 5s are not. The fact they saved Nora instead of using her shows a lot.]
After that, she felt something else. Master Void opening seed connection. Presence there. Aware. Listening.
But saying nothing—just present for a moment, then closing the connection and withdrawing.
No words said more than words probably would. [He probably isn't happy over this buying someone by random. Or has other questions. Or concerns. But decided not to trouble me before race. Letting me focus. Supportive even when disapproving.]
[Will deal with lectures later. After race. After everything. For now: focus. Prepare. Win.]
Soon the names started becoming visible on a large holographic display—floating magical projection that everyone could see, clear and organized.
"1: Merxy; Raging Storm"
Rider name and dragon or wyvern name in standard format.
[First draw. Lucky position or unlucky? Depends on strategy. No one to chase. But also no one to learn from. No times to beat yet. Just: set the pace. Hope it's enough.]
When the draw reached around spot 300, Kira saw them—two Black Wings members arriving, moving through the crowd with professional focus.
Elf Archer Azra—female, graceful, deadly.
Oni Lucio—massive, shield on back, protective presence radiating from him.
They reached Lala and spoke to her. Confusion turned to relief, and she followed them — finally in safe hands.
[Good. Black Wings has her. She'll be fine. They're good people. Professional. Kind when it matters.]
Feeling bit better after that. One worry resolved. One impulsive decision partially fixed.
Then saw her own name appear.
"387: Kira Razorclaw; Bad Boy"
[Good. Good position. Before sister. Before Raja. Psychological advantage secured. She'll have to beat what I set. Pressure on her, not me.]
Kira started moving, guiding Bad Boy toward the arena entrance—inside, where contestants lined up and the real preparation happened.
Inside was a massive sand field where dragons and wyverns lined up in organized rows based on draw order—handlers, riders, equipment creating professional chaos and controlled mayhem.
When draw reached around 1000 and first lines were properly arranged, they let visitors enter. Watch dragons close up in arena also. Different crowd now.
[Different class entirely. No poor people in rags, no slaves — just ticket holders with wealth to spare.]
The viewing sections filled. Spectators settling. Excitement building.
Some time later, Raja's name appeared.
"3107: Raja Razorclaw; Thunder"
Something in Kira purred at the sight. [Quite end of the line. Disadvantage. Having to wait, having to watch so many others go first. Hours to mess with Raja's head before she even gets to ride.]
The last draw appeared finally.
"3885: Ken Steelhammer; Blue Cheese"
[Steelhammer. Someone from Tornin's family maybe? But that family is massive—one of the large main dynasties in Dwarven Union. Probably thousands of members. Could be anyone.]
Kira looked in that direction. Dwarf on top of massive dragon. Probably the largest dragon in the field. Impressive. Powerful.
[Almost funny. Possibly one of the most powerful dragons here starts in the last spot. Disadvantage from draw order despite the advantage in mount quality.]
[Nearly four thousand riders total — massive event, legendary scale. I'm 387, Raja's 3107. Spread is wide, advantage is mine.]
After the last draw completed, they started the clock.
Two hours to start.
The holographic display showed time counting down, building tension steadily.
This dragon show—both before outside and now inside here—was kind of a first test, mixing professional evaluation with crowd entertainment and practical assessment.
[If your ride makes any issues, you're disqualified. If you make issues, same. Behavior matters. Control matters. Professionalism required even before race begins.]
Kira settled in, waiting and preparing mentally.
[Two hours. Then everything begins. Then I either lose or lose badly. Then this nightmare ends one way or another.]
[Better than alternatives. Better than giving up. Better than surrendering without a fight.]