Ezekiel turned the Magma's Book over in his hands, his fingers brushing reverently across the cover's etched, ever-shifting glyphs.
The dark leather gradually felt cooler under his touch. As if reading his intentions, the etched archaic symbols morphed into veined amber lines that pulsed in time with his heartbeat. The book radiated presence — ancient, powerful, aware.
{Magma's Book (Epic-tier) — Can be Evolved}
• Allows Summoner's creatures to be recorded within individual pages of the tome, where they may reside indefinitely.
• Passive Effects:
• -40% MP Cost on all summons (Stackable only with Magma's Heart)
• Recorded creatures may recover 5% of their Max HP per second while residing within
• Nullifies all external and internal status effects on recorded creatures from enemies below their tier
• Recovers 2% of the user's MP every 5 seconds. (Stackable with other recovery skills and potions)
• User gains +50% bonus EXP in proportion to the total EXP earned by recorded creatures
• Stat Bonuses:
• +25 to all attributes of a successful recorded creature
• +3 to all attributes of a recorded creature at each level up
• Recorded Creatures: — /9
• Evolution Condition: ???
It was the first time that Ezekiel had read through its properties since gaining it, and he was flabbergasted. He had believed Magma's Heart to be the real treasure out of the two, considering it was the more powerful one in its Pseudo-Epic copy.
But Magma's Book had completely overturned his expectations.
Each line he'd read had felt like another blow to his already stunned mind.
The effects were leagues beyond its Pseudo-Epic imitation.
A 40% MP cost reduction to summon upkeep — and it stacked with the Magma's Heart bonus. That alone made his resource management trivial, irrelevant to his creatures' tiers. But with the 2% MP recovery rate, maintaining a summon indefinitely was not a far-fetched dream.
More than that — the creatures healed while resting, resisted most status effects, and gained stat bonuses with every level.
And the kicker?
He received a 50% bonus in EXP. In simple mathematical terms, while regular Summoners could only gain 50% of their earned EXP from a kill, Ezekiel could now gain 75%. And it did not take anything away from his creatures.
Ezekiel's eyes brimmed with unrestrained joy.
Summoners often struggled through the early game — mana-hungry, underpowered, and unpopular. But once a summoner had access to the right tools that could balance their class's shortcomings, the class could become nearly unstoppable.
And Magma's Treasures weren't just the right tools — they were the pinnacle.
It made sense now. Magma, the Ninth-Circle Archmage — one of the few legendary Summoners in Enia's lore to ever be feared and respected in equal measure — had created these artifacts uniquely tuned for summoners. He hadn't even spared his own true heart.
Ezekiel couldn't imagine the depth of such a man's desire to cultivate a successor to his immense talents.
And these were artifacts that could evolve, that had the potential to reach the ranks of Legendary-tier.
Through a twist of fate, Ezekiel had come to possess these invaluable treasures in his hands. He could not help but feel honored.
Closing his eyes, Ezekiel took a deep breath as he tried to calm his rapidly beating heart. He hoped to evolve these treasures as soon as possible, but Ezekiel had no clue where to start.
He decided to not overthink something that was out of his control for now. Opening his eyes, he looked over at the hatchling.
It had stopped squirming affectionately and now gazed at the tome with deep, magnetic interest. Its five heads swayed gently, clearly sensing the immense energy wrapped inside the artifact.
"You want to form the contract now?" Ezekiel asked, raising a brow. "Move into your new home?"
The hatchling let out a series of cheerful, impatient chirps, tails wagging like a dog who'd spotted its favorite treat.
Ezekiel chuckled. "Alright then."
Typically, a summoner's contracted creatures would rest within their mana core when not summoned. But that method was primitive and crude. Functional, but it offered no comfort, no utility — no growth.
Advanced Summoners, after an evolved class change may also gain additional artifacts that acted as an external core with benefits like HP or MP recovery. Though these low-tier artifacts couldn't dare compete with Magma's Book, they were highly sought after nonetheless.
But there was another crucial point where the Magma's Book differed significantly to those lifeless artifacts. This book wasn't simply a container to hold a summoner's creature.
It was a world of its own.
Each recorded creature would reside in a separate page, a self-contained reality molded to reflect the creature's nature and origin. Fire elementals would rest in flowing magma plains. Ice beasts would roam frigid tundras.
Each page, its own sanctuary. A world that healed, nurtured, empowered.
It wouldn't replace their home… but it could become one.
And while other Summoners may not care for such particularities as it had no effects on a creature's battle performance, it mattered for Ezekiel.
With care, he opened to the first blank page. The parchment shimmered — white-gold at the edges, waiting. He brought his thumb to his lips and bit down hard.
Ping—
{-10 HP}
{Minor Bleeding Status Effect Active!}
{-1% HP per 2 Seconds for 60 Seconds}
Red pop-ups flared across his vision, but he ignored them. Blood welled at the tip of his thumb. He let a single droplet fall onto the blank page, and then began to chant.
The language was ancient — guttural yet melodic, its syllables carrying power long lost to the modern world.
As he spoke, his eyes flared a deep violet, and the book responded, drinking in the blood like rain on parched soil.
The parchment glowed bright gold.
Ping—
{Congratulations on successfully binding to Magma's Book!}
{Magma's Book recognizes user Ezekiel as its owner}
{Creatures may be recorded now}
Ezekiel let out a soft breath of satisfaction. The book's cover thrummed in his hands, alive like a heartbeat.
Now came the final step.
He extended his still-bleeding thumb toward the hatchling. It stared at it for only a second before the middle head leaned forward, tongue gently lapping at the blood.
As the hatchling drank, a cool, tingling sensation spread across his thumb — not unpleasant, but strange.
Ezekiel blinked in surprise. Before his eyes, the bite mark closed rapidly, leaving smooth, unblemished skin behind.
"…You have a healing ability?" He murmured, astonished.
The heads chirped in harmony, as if pleased by his surprise.
Hydra, he'd long since ruled out. And while Poison Dragon was a possibility, for dragons — healing others simply wasn't in their nature. They were destruction incarnate. Corrosion. Plague.
That wasn't just unexpected. That was unprecedented.
What are you?
He wondered, watching the hatchling polish off the last trace of blood. All five heads licked their lips in unison, clearly pleased. At such an adorable sight, Ezekiel could only shake his head helplessly.
He would find the answers to his questions soon enough.
Suddenly, Ezekiel gasped.
His core — the space just below his sternum — began to glow faintly. A thick, misty green light shimmered from within, spreading outward like ink in water. Simultaneously, the hatchling's small chest emitted an amber glow, brighter and purer.
The connection clicked.
The contract was forming.
He felt the foreign mana tethering to his own, threads of energy wrapping together in a complex weave of color and intent. It didn't hurt — but it stirred something deep inside. A warmth. A sense of unity. Of belonging.
The hatchling squealed — the sound high and giggly — then began to wiggle restlessly, clearly tickled by the sensation. It rolled playfully across his shoulders, tails slapping against his chest like excited ribbons.
He couldn't help it — an indulgent smile curved up on his lips at its antics.
And then—
{Congratulations! You have formed a contract with ??? !}
Ezekiel frowned at the message, but before he could react—
"Papa!"
The voice echoed inside his mind — a childlike, joyous exclamation bursting with affection and boundless happiness.
Ezekiel froze.
His eyes widened in disbelief.
"Wh—what?"
There was no one around. No child in sight. No speakers, no illusions.
The voice had come from within.
The hatchling blinked up at him innocently, tails twitching, looking utterly pleased with itself.
He stared at it, slack-jawed.
"…Was that… you?"
One of the heads nodded furiously. Then another.
"Did you just call me… Papa?"
The middle head gave a big, delighted chirp. Another head nuzzled into his jawline and purred.
"Yes! Papa! My papa!"
Ezekiel stood still for several seconds as the full implications hit him.
He'd expected a bond.
A co-dependant existence with an intelligent lifeform.
He hadn't expected fatherhood.
He never even had a girlfriend, yet suddenly he had a child?! Despite his elevated intelligence, Ezekiel forgot the main point.
That he wasn't a real father. He hadn't sired an actual child. He only seemed to have adopted one. An unknown gluttonous creature that most likely had imprinted on him at some point.
Ezekiel let out a slow exhale. He wasn't one to lose his composure easily, but faced with such a baffling situation, even he had instinctively panicked. It was only after sorting out his thoughts, he had the mind to be embarrassed about it.
His ears flushed red, and fortunately there was no one else in the vicinity to see it.
"Papa? Are you okay?"
The hatchling tilted all its heads in sync, a mix of confusion and concern evident in its eyes.
Ezekiel couldn't help it anymore. Suddenly, like a breaking tide, laughter began to bubble up from his chest. Low at first, then deeper, until he was laughing freely, clutching the Magma's Book in one hand while his free arm came up to cradle the enthusiastic hatchling, as he held it close to his chest.
"Alright," he whispered, voice thick with disbelief and amusement. "Guess I'm a dad now."
The hatchling chirped again, pleased.
With his affirmation, the bond solidified, and a new notification popped up before him.
{Name your contracted creature to view its stats}
Ezekiel considered it seriously for a moment, before turning to the hatchling. Poison dragon or not, a single name invaded his thoughts.
"Conium," he said, smiling deeply. "That's your name, but I will call you Con."
The hatchling jumped in his arms with pure, uncontained joy — all five heads vying for his attention as they nuzzled, licked, purred, and clung to him in unison. Its affection was raw, and oddly reverent.
To be given a name — for a beast, it was more than a gesture. It was acknowledgment. A mark of identity. A confirmation that its existence had a purpose.
Though still too young to grasp the full weight of that meaning, the hatchling instinctively understood: this was the happiest moment of its life.
Ezekiel let out a breathless chuckle at the creature's relentless affection. He reached out and stroked its heads with slow, reassuring motions, soothing it bit by bit.
Once it had settled — at least somewhat — he exhaled and called up the system window.
"Alright... let's see what you're really made of."
But as his gaze landed on the interface, Ezekiel froze.
His eyes widened, breath catching in his throat at the information displayed before him.
"This..."
How could this be even possible?