The Dragon's breaths were louder than the thunder, deeper than the crater, and more potent than an earthquake. Even moments from death, it rattled the mountain. Yet, as it scanned Hel's familiar contract, the dragoness held on. So it seemed even on the edge of death; dragons refused to sign a contract without at least reading it.

"I don't like this wording, only 50% of his qi until I'm healed. At which point, I only qualify for 5%. 50% from a single mortal isn't worth a single breath." Lex glared at her. She raised a claw to hold his judgment. "I consider all cultivators under a century of age mortal. Live beyond a human lifespan, and maybe you can be called an immortal or at least long-lived for your species." The dragoness said.

Hel chuckled, "that's what I thought too, but here I am mostly recovered. 15% of his output can satisfy even a goddess; now imagine if he lives long enough to have children and spread his talents. Isn't that what dragons do?" Hel asked.

The Dragon sorted. "Yes, I see many provisions and stipulations that require me to look after his family line with no limit. However, I've read the contract made with Emperor, and it is far less binding." She glared at them both. "Is there nothing you can offer to sweeten the deal?" The dragoness asked.

Lex thought about it for a moment. Her problem was wounds that wouldn't close. "I'll add a technique," he felt a sudden invasion of his mind from Hel.

She found the technique and gave him a foxy smile. Then, with the waiver hand using techniques far beyond his understanding, Hel added technique to the contract.

The Dragon sucked on her teeth in a very human gesture. "This is a demonic technique without the penalty. Interesting, it's not like I have a choice." She dipped her claw into her blood and tapped the contract.

Lex stepped forward onto Hel's Island of frozen blood. She offered him a steel-pointed quill. He stabbed it into the palm of his hand until a few drops of golden blood welled up. Then he signed his name on the contract.

The contract vanished, and he felt a sudden link between himself and the dragoness. "Remember me; my name is Zhan," Zhan said.

Lex fell on his hands and knees; his qi floated out of him, sucked through a straw of a binding agreement. All at once, he felt her pain, injustice, and hate. Someone kidnapped her sister, and before she even approached the land where Mei was taken to, some upstart dragonslayer nearly split her in two. Britannia wouldn't get away with this; she'd show them a fury greater than any evil Dragon.

He felt what she thought of him, an insignificant mortal messing with forces beyond his understanding. Lex was useful only to mark him with her hate and a blind attempt to point him at her enemy. She'd use every second before she passed to impart on him the pain that she felt until he could think of nothing but destroying Britannia. But, then, from her, he felt surprised!

The waterfall of blood, of her very life essence, spewed millennia of her lifespan in a hole in the ground, stopped. Qi of the fifth stage of qi condensation pushed its way into her through the bond of master and familiar. It was unlike the bond between the Emperor and the sacred yellow Dragon. The trickster's daughter created the contract they used. Hel’s father was a trickster so notorious that he’s known even in the East. The qi forced into her was of low quality but high in quantity. She noticed then; her master didn't breathe. For a moment, she thought she was tricked; somehow, Hel had created an undead that could bond a dragon. But he didn't feel like an undead. Undead couldn't possibly produce this much qi.

Her eyes widened at the realization of something new. Lex’s cultivation technique was more profound than the forging of Britannia's legendary soul weapons. It was fundamental in the evolution of the process itself, cultivation without breath. Of course, his technique wasn't unheard of; there have been many experiments to mimic the cultivation of the undead. But those techniques were never powerful; they could never match the breath of a dragon.

She watched him more carefully. He could see it in her eyes. All this time, Zhan had been broadcasting her thoughts to him. He watched as her guts slithered back in her body. She flew through miraculous technique after a miraculous technique as she burned through half of his cultivation. Finally, Zhan dunked her head in the pool of blood and began to drink. The life essence she'd lost returned to her.

Lex’s technique stopped her bleeding, his cultivation base had put her on the path of recovery, and now the blood she'd lost had returned to her. But how could a mere experimental technique he'd created by watching a whirlpool do this? Hel claimed that 15% of his base had nearly restored her. Was his cultivation really that impressive?

"In the time it takes me to take a single breath, you've cycled dozens of times. You're always doing it unbound by the limitations of the lungs. Perhaps, I should have held out for 10%." Zhan glanced at the goddess. "Tell me my percentage is at least fluid."

Hel chuckled. "If I can't get a fluid rate, why would I let you have one. Maybe if you were cuter, you might have been able to tempt him." Hel said.

"What does he get out of giving you 15%, daughter of the trickster?" Zhan asked.

Hel walked behind him and lowered herself until his head fit between either breast. "Good point, I've nearly recovered all of my power. Even my realm is returning to me, and those demon bitches are paying me rent; Hades is so jealous. But not too jealous to sleep on my couch with his wife and daughter. They are such a cute family. I didn't have the heart to kick them out. So besides helping Lex with contracting familiars, giving him the knowledge that no one else has on runes, and being an honest patron goddess, nothing. How about you pick a breast? You want the black one or the white one. Just squeeze the nipple of the one you want, and I'll do the rest." Hel said.

Lex felt perplexed. Oh, he got the innuendo squeeze a nipple and got a blessing. But why did he have to squeeze a nipple to get a blessing? And since when had Hel become such a braggart. She seemed almost meek and sullen when he saw her after seeing Zhan regenerate from near death from his qi and a single technique. Lex was beginning to think he might be underselling himself. That was not playing to his strengths. "What happens if I squeeze both?" Lex asked.

Hel snorted. "I'll take you back to Helheim and try my favorite toy on you. Please be gentle and remember only one." Hel said.

Lex tested his new familiar bond. Zhan had been a little rough on it, but it was still strong. He felt some of Zhan's emotions go from half shocked to half, processing hundreds of techniques and spending his qi as fast as he sent it to her. Still, she pointed out that the white breast contained the cold essence of Helheim, and the black breast held the deathly essence of a goddess of death. Both were magnificent blessings. He reached up and pinched Hel's massive pink nipple.

Hel shoved a technique into his very psyche so powerfully it became passive. It was more akin to his heartbeat than an actual technique. From his qi, he felt the powerful ability to manipulate ice, slow the speed of molecules, and even halt a fleeing soul. That power became more an instinct than a technique like lifting his hand or pointing his finger. But just because he could raise his hand didn't mean he could throw a punch.

He lifted his hand and gathered cold, but that was it. Maybe if he held someone while he gathered it, it might be effective. "Once where my cold touched, no flame could burn even the sun gods feared my power. But that time and a long time ago, I'm recovered, but Epsilon’s rise destroyed my realm, among others. Epsilon's sentinels took the true bedrock of my power. If you want that kind of power, you'll have to find them and take it back.

"It's good that you chose ice, death would have been powerful, but against epsilon and those he's blessed, death magic is practically worthless," Zhan said.

Suddenly, the storm parted, and the sky shook. A man dressed in dragon scales slammed into the mountain. In his hand, he wielded a massive two-handed sword. Half of the blade looked demonic, while the other half appeared blessed by Epsilon’s sentinels. The man dressed in plate mail made of dragon scales lifted his visor.

"Young cultivator, don't be corrupted by this evil Dragon. She seeks to desolate this land with floods, rockslides, and famine. Like all of her ilk, she is Abaddon-made flesh; don't let her Eastern form fool you. See her sins, for they are all around you. This area may never recover, and tens of thousands will starve to death this winter. Stand aside so that I may finish what I started." The dragonslayer said.

Lex had no idea what to believe, Zhan was his familiar, but this guy did him a favor by weakening her in the first place. He was conflicted. In a roundabout way, this guy did him a favor. "Mighty warrior," he decided to choose his words carefully; that's why he started with, mighty warrior. It never hurt to play on another's pride. "I don't know your name, nor do I recognize you from any tale. Tell me dragonslayer the name of the man who can track a dragon through the heavens." Lex said.

He could feel the strength given to him by his familiar bond. Zhan, even while he spoke, imparted that knowledge at a rapid pace. The odds were good that this would turn into a fight. Zhan's Dragon Force multiplied his power exponentially at the cost of a lot of qi. Once it burned through his reserves, his 35% output might not be enough to sustain it for long. Worse, this dragonslayer has something similar. Even now, Lex could sense him, a being with the power realms above Lex. But the warrior hadn't escaped his battle with Zhan unscathed.

She had inflicted numerous curses and debuffs upon him. “ I poisoned this great warrior in a thousand different ways; inflamed his joints to uselessness, and scrambled the warrior's eyesight. Can you feel them the effects of our battle?” Zhan asked.

Lex began to calm down. Finally, with Zhan's Dragon Force and the cold of Helheim, he might be able to pull a win.

"My name is Sigurd, the bane of evil dragons and wielder of the legendary blade Gram," Sigurd said.

Lex's breath hitched, who hadn't heard of one of Sigurd's tales. The man he faced was a living legend—even weekend by in techniques. Skill, experience, and the weight of this man's legend cast a long shadow. Lex tightened his grip on the weapons in his hands. Maybe they had names, but no one knew them; they were an unsung sword and mace. Before the mighty Gram, his weapons would shatter against it.