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Backstory

        “Idiots! You can’t even capture this small country?” Outraged, the king threw his wine glass at the general’s head.

        “Please forgive my incompetence. The enemies’ leader was a valiant warrior excelled in swordsmanship, and he injured our strongest soldiers in just a few attacks —”

        “Enough excuses! I’ll give you a month. If you cannot take the city within this period, you’ll find your head detached from your body!” The king even wanted to give him a kick: “Get out!”

        The king threw everyone out of the conference room, and pondered over plans of conquering the enemy country. Looking at the sand table, the king moved the flag representing his country, trying to figure out a route to march forward and attack the target. The king, who was originally absorbed in strategy planning, sensed that someone was watching him in front. He lifted his head, only to find a lady he had never seen standing there.

        “Who are you? Guards!”

        “Save your breath. They look quite tired, and so I put them to rest.” All the guards outside had fallen onto the ground, without the chance to wake again.

        Seeing the lady’s elegance, the king suspected that she might be a noble who wanted to revolt. He put his hand on the sword at his waist, ready to unsheathe it for a fight.

        “I can help you seize the country and make you the conqueror of this land. The only thing you need to do is to sign an indenture with me — whenever I need you, you have to be at my service. What do you think?” Mastema concentrated her elemental magic full of evil aura in her hand. Looking at this mysterious power, the king dazzled.

        “... Be at your service? I am the king of a country. Why should I listen to you?”

        Mastema did not attempt to explain further. She directly passed a tiny part of her pneuma to the king. As the king felt the power streaming into him, he began to lose control of his consciousness. He repeated mumbling the words, “I can be the conqueror...”, unable to notice that his body had begun to transform because of this strange power — his head became longer like that of a horse, with fangs growing in his mouth; his skin was covered by blood red scales; his limbs became sharp claws, and even a tail formed...

        The red dragon flew to the rival state, hovering. Even if the lead warrior was powerful, his attacks were unable to reach the dragon flying high in the sky. The dragon concentrated its power in its mouth, and shot out a giant fireball right at the castle! The enemies had never expected a dragon; many of them were killed as the castle was destroyed by the powerful fireball. The people began to flee in fear, yet they were unable to escape from the dragon’s fireballs. The whole country was soon enveloped in a sea of fire.

        Mastema, who transferred her pneuma to the king and transformed him into a dragon, witnessed the whole process by the side, “Ha! This way, my army has become even stronger! Belial, just wait and see!”

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