I opened my eyes to a massive crimson snout and two enormous shrimp dangling from Vesperra's jaws.
"Eat."
She released her grip. The two-meter shrimp hit the riverbank with a wet thud, their shells still glistening with river water.
*Generous as ever.*
I didn't argue. Didn't even thank her — she'd hate that. Just reached out with both claws and dragged the shrimp closer. They were heavy, easily fifty kilos each, their antennae twitching with residual nerve signals.
Vesperra watched me for a moment, then shifted her weight. She wasn't leaving. She had something to say.
I tore into the first shrimp. The meat was firm, sweet, with that familiar spicy undertone that Kelpfang-infused prey carried. But I wasn't really focused on the flavor.
"Vesperra. We need to talk."
She settled onto her haunches, tail curling around her claws. The picture of patience. The kind of patience that made you feel like she'd been waiting for this conversation since the moment she hatched.
I swallowed the first mouthful and wiped my claws on the stone.
"I had another dream."
Her crimson eyes narrowed. Not surprised. Not skeptical. Just... *alert.* Like a senior manager who'd been expecting bad news in the quarterly report and was already mentally drafting the response plan.
"Prophetic?"
"Something like that." I pointed my claw at the river. "You noticed the water level rising?"
Vesperra glanced down at the water lapping at her forelegs. Yesterday this spot had been dry stone. Now there was a centimeter of clear river flowing over it.
She nodded once. "And?"
"The thing in the water — the one you fought — I know what it is now."
I let the words hang for a moment. Watched her face. Nothing. No flicker of fear, no widening of pupils. Just that steady, crimson focus.
*Damn. I was hoping for at least a twitch.*
"It's a Mindkraken. Senior-class magical beast."
Still nothing.
I continued. "In the dream, the water kept rising until it flooded the entire cave. The Mindkraken started hunting. It ate everything — every fish, every Kelpfang, every scrap of prey in this river. And we'd be trapped in the cave with nowhere to go."
Silence.
Vesperra's gaze hadn't wavered. She was processing. Calculating. The way she always did — internally, efficiently, without wasting energy on reaction.
Then she spoke.
"I've already engaged it once." Her voice was flat. Clinical. "Its tentacle speed was... suboptimal. Slower than expected for a creature that size. It seemed to be in a weakened state."
I nodded. "That matches what I saw. The Mindkraken is in its adolescent stage. Not fully grown yet. That's why it's still confined to the water — it can't leave the river yet."
We stared at each other. Two hatchlings, barely a month old, discussing how to kill a fourth-ring magical beast that could drown us all if it wanted to.
The absurdity wasn't lost on me. But neither was the necessity.
Vesperra's crimson eyes never wavered. She was weighing the odds, calculating the risks, running through scenarios the way she always did — silently, efficiently, without wasting energy on doubt.
That was Vesperra. She didn't panic. She didn't hesitate. She just *acted.*
It was one of the reasons I'd decided to work with her instead of against her. She was the only other dragon in this cave who thought like a leader. The only one who understood that survival wasn't about being the strongest — it was about being the smartest.
And right now, smart was all we had.
The cave went quiet. Just the sound of the river and the occasional drip of water from the ceiling.
Then, at the exact same moment, we both opened our jaws.
*"Kill it."*
Two voices. One crimson, one emerald. Synchronized like we'd rehearsed it.
Vesperra's lips curled back from her teeth. Not a smile — Vesperra didn't smile. But something close. Something that said: *Finally. Someone who thinks like me.*
"You have a plan," she said. Not a question.
"I do." I tapped my claw against the stone. "A fourth-ring Water Serpent Binding Array. I can summon it, control it, and use it to tear that thing apart."
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Her pupils contracted. Just slightly. But I caught it.
*She's skeptical.*
Fair enough. I was a one-ring hatchling talking about casting a four-ring spell. That was like a first-year associate claiming they could lead a merger acquisition. Technically possible if you were a prodigy. Statistically unlikely.
"Collecting the materials won't be a problem," she said carefully. "Kelpfang bones. Xelira bones. Magic cores. We have all of that."
She paused.
"But can you actually *control* a four-ring array?"
I grinned. Showed her every tooth I had.
"Trust me."
*You don't trust me? Fine. But you don't have a better option.*
Vesperra held my gaze for three more seconds. Then she nodded.
"Fine. You summon the Sense Vines as bait. I'll gather the others."
She rose in one fluid motion, wings flexing as she stretched. Then she paused, looking back at me over her shoulder.
"The array needs bones. Lots of them."
"Kelpfang bones. Xelira bones. Whatever we can get. The more the better — I need to build a framework big enough to cover the entire river channel."
"And magic cores."
"One water-attribute core. I already have it." I tapped the spot where I'd tucked Nyx's gift earlier. "The rest can be Kelpfang cores. They're not ideal, but they'll work as filler."
Vesperra's tail flicked once. A gesture I'd learned meant she was doing mental math.
"We have forty-seven Kelpfang cores from the last hunt. Ferra's contribution adds another six. That's fifty-three total."
"Should be enough." I shrugged. "The array doesn't need to be perfect. It just needs to work."
She nodded. Then she tilted her head, studying me with that same calculating gaze she always had.
"The others won't like this. Gathering materials, risking their hides for a plan they don't understand."
"They'll follow you."
"They'll follow *us.*" She corrected. "For now."
I snorted. "For now is all I need."
Vesperra's lips twitched. Not quite a smile. But close enough.
She turned to leave, then paused again. "The Mindkraken. If your array fails—"
"It won't."
"If it fails," she continued, ignoring my interruption, "I'll hold it off. Buy you time to regroup."
I stared at her. She was serious. Dead serious. The kind of serious that meant she'd already made the decision to sacrifice herself if it came to that.
*Great. Now I have to make sure she doesn't get the chance.*
"Just make sure you gather those bones, Vesperra."
She nodded once. Then, without another word, she launched herself toward the far end of the cave where the other hatchlings were scattered across the stone.
I watched her go.
*The only senior manager who actually reads the quarterly reports.*
I finished the second shrimp in four bites. The meat was tender, spicy, and exactly what I needed. My scales tingled with residual magic, the Kelpfang-infused prey doing its work.
Then I lay back on the stone, belly pressed against the cool surface, and let my mind race through the tactical assessment.
Here's the problem: we were one-ring hatchlings. Barely out of the egg. The Mindkraken was fourth-ring. That's a three-tier gap. In dragon terms, that was the difference between a toddler with a plastic sword and a grown man with a shotgun.
Even with spell enhancement, I could only punch up to second-ring. Ferra was maybe second-ring on a good day — all raw power, no finesse. And Vesperra... Vesperra was third-ring. Maybe. She'd cut off a Mindkraken tentacle and walked away without a scratch. But that was one tentacle. The thing had hundreds.
So what were our odds in a straight fight?
Zero.
Not "low." Not "unlikely." *Zero.*
Which meant we needed an edge. Something that didn't depend on brute force. Something that leveraged what we *had* instead of what we *lacked.*
And I had exactly one thing the Mindkraken didn't.
Information.
I knew what it was. I knew its weaknesses. I knew it couldn't leave the water. I knew it was adolescent, not fully grown. I knew it was slow on the uptake — otherwise Vesperra wouldn't have walked away from that tentacle fight.
And I had a four-ring Water Serpent Binding Array in my head.
The array wouldn't beat the Mindkraken in a raw power contest. But it didn't need to. It just needed to do one thing: *cut.* The Water Serpent had a severing特性. It could slice through flesh, bone, tentacle — whatever I aimed it at. And unlike a direct confrontation, I could control it from a distance. Keep myself out of reach while the serpents did the work.
That was the plan.
Simple. Elegant. And completely dependent on me not screwing it up.
No pressure.
I opened my eyes and stared at the cave ceiling. The bioluminescent moss cast a faint green glow across the stone, pulsing in that slow, steady rhythm it always had. Like a heartbeat. Like the cave itself was alive and breathing.
Somewhere out there, in the dark water at the end of the river, the Mindkraken was waiting. Growing. Getting stronger with every passing day.
And the water kept rising.
I could feel it. Not just see it — *feel* it. The territorial instinct that had been simmering in my chest since Arc 3 flared up again. This was *our* cave. *Our* river. *Our* hunting grounds. Every Kelpfang in this water belonged to me. Every magic core. Every scrap of prey.
And something was trying to take it away.
*Not on my watch.*
Then I looked down at the shrimp.
*Better eat fast. Big day ahead.*
I tore into the second shrimp, claws working efficiently, mind already racing ahead to the battle plan.
The Mindkraken was big. Fourth-ring. Hundreds of tentacles. Could flood the cave and drown us all.
But it had weaknesses.
It couldn't leave the water. It was adolescent, not fully grown. And it was slow on the uptake — Vesperra had already proven that by cutting off a tentacle and walking away clean.
And I had something it didn't.
I had a four-ring Water Serpent Binding Array in my head. I had a cave full of bones to build it. And I had the one advantage that no amount of tentacles could counter.
I could see the future.
Well. Sort of. The hourglass showed me warnings, not certainties. But warnings were enough.
I finished the shrimp in six bites. Licked my claws clean. Then I closed my eyes and reached out with my consciousness.
*Sense Vine. Time to go to work.*
The familiar green tendrils uncoiled from my mind, snaking through the cave, spreading toward the river. They moved like living things — which, I guess, they were. Magical constructs, extensions of my will, designed to sense and manipulate.
But today they had a different job.
Today they were bait.
I pushed them deeper into the water, feeling the current, mapping the riverbed. The Sense Vines spread out like a net, searching for the Mindkraken's location.
The river was clearer than it had been yesterday. The rising water had stirred up sediment, but the flow was still manageable. I could feel the stones on the bottom, the occasional school of fish darting away from my tendrils, the cold pockets where underground springs fed into the main channel.
And there.
Deep in the dark water, something massive shifted.
The Sense Vines recoiled instinctively — not from pain, but from sheer *presence.* The Mindkraken radiated a kind of alien awareness, a consciousness so vast and alien that my magical constructs couldn't even process it properly. It was like trying to stare at the sun.
But I'd felt enough.
*Found you.*
I withdrew the Sense Vines, letting them dissolve back into my consciousness. The Mindkraken was there. Exactly where I'd expected it to be — at the far end of the cave, where the river narrowed into a choke point before disappearing into the darkness.
Perfect.
That meant I could control the battlefield. Funnel it into the narrow section where the array would have maximum effect. Limit its maneuverability. Force it into a space where its hundreds of tentacles would work against it instead of for it.
The plan was coming together.
I opened my eyes and stared at the cave ceiling. The bioluminescent moss pulsed in that slow, steady rhythm. Like a countdown.
*Let's see how you handle a little fishing expedition.*