Once again, he reached for it, the wooden pendant settling into his palm like it belonged there.
It still pulled in mana, gently but steadily, like a silent vortex.
He never wore it. That felt like tempting fate. Knowing his luck, it was probably cursed.
The carving was strange. A serpent, tongue flicking out, captured mid-slither. The angle was odd—drawn from above, as if the artist were in the sky, looking down.
Tonight, something was different.
Vael squinted at the wood. It wasn't just old—it was ancient. The kind of weathered, time-smoothed old you didn't get in five years.
And that was the problem.
The Church had only arrived on this continent five years ago, at the earliest.
So either this necklace was imported… or the religion—or something like it—had been here long before anyone admitted.
Except the pendant didn't radiate holiness.
It depicted the exact being the Church considered evil. A snake.
It made no sense to make a necklace out of it.
Still, the questions gnawed at him.
And despite everything telling him not to, he couldn't help himself.
He blinked out of the room and reappeared on the roof, just in case something happened.
The night air hit him at once—cold and sharp against his skin.
Above him, the stars shimmered in the dark sky, a thousand silent witnesses watching over the world.
He took a moment to steady himself.
And then, slowly, cautiously, he infused his mana into the pendant.
The effect was immediate. The necklace stopped pulling in ambient mana altogether.
But… nothing else happened.
It just sat there in his hand—still, silent, unnervingly calm.
Almost like it had gotten exactly what it wanted.
Then, the snake's eye flashed open.
A rubie blazed to life within the wooden carving, glowing with an unnatural light.
Vael flinched, his breath caught in his throat.
But still… nothing moved. No heat. No mana feedback. Just a red, staring eye.
And then—he heard it.
A voice.
Not male. Not female.
Not young. Not old.
Not human.
It was as if the air itself had formed words inside his skull—impossible to ignore, yet without source or sound.
"Oculor greets its new contractor."
And then, without ceremony, the necklace dissipated.
Vael, still creeped out, tried to make sense of what had just happened—until searing pain exploded from his right bicep.
He quickly tore off his shirt, which was starting to soak with blood.
Gritting his teeth, he finally managed to look at his arm.
What he saw left him speechless.
It was as if an invisible knife was carving into his flesh, etching the image of the snake from the pendant directly into his skin.
But there was no one. No weapon. Just pain.
When it was over, the blood vanished as if it had never been there, leaving behind a clear, raised scar in the shape of a serpent—coiling from his shoulder to just above his elbow.
"Oculor?" Vael said aloud, wary.
As if summoned by the name, a serpent materialized from the moonlight itself.
It floated just above the ground—a white snake, nearly four and a half meters long, with smooth, flawless scales and a glowing crimson eye that shimmered like fire. In the pale night glow, it looked… divine. Beautiful. And wrong.
"I am known as Oculor. The All-Seeing Serpent," echoed a voice inside Vael's mind. "You have broken my seal."
"Of course," Vael muttered, backing up. "Of course it was a seal. An ancient demonic snake. What else would it be?"
His voice sharpened. "And what was that about a contract? I didn't agree to anything!"
Unbothered, Oculor slithered forward. "By breaking my seal, you enacted the binding. As per cosmic law, we are now tethered. A dual pact has formed between us—two fates, intertwined."
Vael's eyes narrowed as the serpent began to coil around his leg, slowly, deliberately.
"The terms are simple," Oculor continued. "Until the day you die, I will assist you in achieving your desires, whatever they may be."
He began climbing Vael's body, curling up his torso and shoulders, his gaze never leaving Vael's.
"If this physical vessel of mine is ever destroyed, you will inherit one of my Eyes. With it comes power beyond mortal comprehension."
Vael's heart pounded, but he didn't dare move. The serpent was now wrapped around his body, face-to-face with him.
"However," Oculor added, "you are forbidden from orchestrating my death—directly or otherwise."
Vael opened his mouth, but Oculor pressed on.
"In return for my aid, you will hunt down and destroy an entity known only as the Seer. You will do all in your power to end its existence."
The words struck Vael like a cold wind, but Oculor wasn't done.
"Lastly," he said, his voice softer now, "my strength is bound to yours. As you grow, so shall I. But know this—if you are ever drained of mana entirely… I will fall into a dormant state until your reserves recover."
Oculor's snout hovered mere centimeters from Vael's.
"The contract is sealed, Vael Icaris. Our fates are now one."
Moments passed in tense silence.
"So… what now? Care to tell me what you can actually do?" Vael muttered, crossing his arms.
As if on cue, Oculor's voice echoed within his mind once more:
"I possess three abilities.
First, Eye of the Wise. It grants me glimpses into potential futures — fragments of what may come to pass. With this, I can guide your choices toward favorable outcomes.
Second, Mana Pathway. A conduit of energy now links us. You may share your mana with me, allowing me to act independently, strike, defend… or manifest in ways beyond the physical.
Lastly, Universal Imposition. I can alter my size at will. From an ant to a castle — or greater, with time. Even cosmic serpents must grow."
He paused, letting the weight of his words settle.
"Woah," was all Vael managed to mutter.
He looked up at the starry sky, trying to gather his thoughts.
So much had happened in so little time. There was no way in hell he could sleep now.
"All right. We've got work to do. Hold on tight."
With that, Vael blinked across rooftops — one building, then another, then another — until the city faded behind them.
Eventually, he found a clearing nestled between the city walls and the first stretches of farmland.
"Hmm. Looks like I've got an interesting one this time," murmured Oculor, mostly to himself. "Space magic? The last one had water."
"The last one?" Vael asked, ears perked. "You've had other contractors?"
"Indeed. Two, in fact," Oculor replied, but he didn't sound eager to elaborate.
Vael let it go and stepped into the center of the clearing, flexing his fingers.
"All right, Oculor. Let's test that second ability — Mana Pathway."
He could feel it now — the link. A subtle current between them, humming just beneath the surface of his awareness.
"To activate it, imagine scooping up your mana and hurling it down the connection," Oculor instructed.
Vael nodded. He funneled a sliver — maybe one percent — into the pathway.
Immediately, Oculor's body shimmered with a soft crimson glow, the hue of freshly drawn blood. The color pulsed, alive.
Then, with a snap, Oculor bit at the air. Ethereal red fangs, larger than his own jaw, materialized and slammed shut with a soundless force.
A blow that could have ended any unawakened beast instantly.
"Good. Now give me thirty percent," Oculor commanded, his voice sharper.
Vael hesitated only a second before obeying. A wave of mana surged out of him, and he winced at the sudden drain — but didn't stop.
Oculor's body darkened. The glow deepened into a blood-red hue, swirling like smoke within glass. He now radiated power — not warm, but ancient and predatory.
"Pay close attention, contractor. Thirty percent is the maximum you can channel to me—for now."
Oculor, who still stood at a modest five meters tall, quintupled in size in an instant.
He now towered above Vael, massive and unbothered.
Then came the attack.
A beam.
Red. Dark. Overwhelming.
Oculor opened his jaw, and the blast erupted.
The moment the beam struck the ground—just meters from where Vael stood—the earth trembled.
When the dust cleared, all that remained was a smoking crater.
An attack powerful enough to annihilate any Stage Two beast… and perhaps even stronger foes, as long as they weren't built for defense.
"Obviously, I don't have to burn all your mana in one attack. I can ration it," added Oculor.
Reverting to his normal size, he continued, "With thirty percent, I can fight for quite a while. And no matter how far apart we are, I can still request more through our mental link."
"Mmh… Fascinating. All right—since I've already seen a glimpse, might as well get it over with. Show me Universal Imposition."
Obliging, Oculor expanded to his full size—laying flat across the clearing to avoid detection.
Even so, his coiled body alone was nearly as tall as the city walls.
Vael shuddered at the thought of what he'd look like standing upright.
Then, the serpent began to shrink.
And shrink.
Until he was barely a flicker among the grass.
Vael knelt and gently picked him up. Oculor now looked no larger than the wooden carving that had once served as his seal.
That's when a rather nasty idea crossed Vael's mind.
He shared it.
Oculor didn't seem the least bit disturbed. Clearly, this serpent had seen worse.
Slithering up Vael's arm, across his shoulder, neck, and face, Oculor nestled himself inside Vael's empty eye socket.
He fit perfectly.
Vael retrieved his eyepatch from his Spatial Pocket and slid it on.
"How does it feel?" he asked.
"It's oddly cozy in here. I won't complain," replied Oculor, sounding far too relaxed for someone in a skull cavity.
All right. That problem's handled—for now.
Vael lifted the eyepatch and let Oculor slither back out.
"Show me the last one. Eye of the Wise."
Oculor returned to his usual size and faced Vael. His eye shimmered with light—clearly a sign the ability was active.
"Attack me," he said.
Vael didn't hesitate. He blinked behind the serpent and lunged—aiming a swift thrust straight for the head.
But Oculor dodged. Effortlessly.
No flare. No mana. No boost.
Just reflex.
An unawakened snake had just dodged a lethal strike from a third-stage spatial magic user.
Vael froze mid-motion, realization hitting like a hammer.
"The Eye of the Wise," said Oculor. "My most powerful skill. In combat, it helps us dodge attacks and predict patterns—as you just saw."
He paused, eyes glowing faintly.
"But its true beauty lies in tactics. Once I'm strong enough, I'll be able to read intentions before they're even formed. Anticipate who will do what—before they know it themselves."
Vael stayed quiet, mulling over the implications. He had dozens of questions. But for now, he let them go. This was enough.
He yawned, signaling the end of their session.
Oculor slithered back into his eye socket, nestling in.
Vael adjusted his eyepatch, blinked, and reappeared inside the inn.
Everything was just as he'd left it.
Still.
Silent.
Everyone was still asleep.
With a quiet sigh, Vael lay down and closed his eyes—his thoughts heavy with all he'd learned.
Sleep took him quickly, but not peacefully.