Swordsman's Regression: Reawakened as a Necromancer-Chapter 171: Swamp Dragon’s Quest

A few yards down the muddy path, near a pen holding high-end B-Rank Beasts, a young boy was sprawled out in the muck.

He couldn’t have been older than fourteen. He wore patched, oversized leather armor that looked like it had been handed down three times over.

Standing over him were three older youths, dressed in more expensive, polished gear. One of them, a tall boy with a sneer plastered across his aristocratic face, kicked a small, pathetic pile of copper coins that had spilled from the boy’s pouch.

"A B-Rank?" the tall youth mocked, his voice carrying over the din of the market. "With this garbage? You couldn’t buy a dead goblin’s pet rat, Dared. Stop embarrassing yourself."

"Go back to the border farms," another chimed in, shoving the boy back down as he tried to get up. "The frontlines don’t need beggar Tamers. You’ll just get whatever beast you buy killed, assuming it doesn’t starve to death first."

Dared didn’t yell back. He didn’t curse. He just set his jaw, his hands trembling slightly as he scrambled to gather his scattered coins from the freezing mud.

He clutched his meager savings to his chest, his eyes burning with a stubborn, quiet defiance.

The bullies laughed one last time, turned on their heels, and swaggered off toward the exotic beast pavilions.

Percival stood in the shadows, watching. He saw the way the boy carefully wiped the mud off a small, carved wooden whistle hanging around his neck—a basic tamer’s tool.

There was no malice in the boy’s eyes, only a desperate, crushing disappointment.

Percival stepped out of the flow of the crowd. He walked over, his boots sinking slightly into the mud, and stood over the boy.

Dared flinched, looking up at the imposing, cloaked figure, expecting another kick or a harsh word.

Instead, Percival extended a gauntleted hand.

Dared hesitated, then reached up, his small, muddy hand grasping Percival’s. With an effortless pull, Percival hoisted the boy to his feet.

"They’re right about one thing," Percival said, his voice calm, devoid of pity but lacking any cruelty. "You can’t buy a beast’s loyalty with copper."

Dared wiped his bruised cheek, his expression hardening. "I don’t want to buy a slave," he muttered, looking down at his boots.

"I just... I just wanted a partner. Something strong enough to help me clear the Gamma Gates near my village. If I can just get one beast to trust me, we could grow together."

Percival raised his brow. "You all say that. Don’t you think these Beasts... locked in these cages... are better than you?"

The boy’s eyes swept around the market, almost saddened. "No. I don’t think so at all. I wouldn’t treat it like those nobles do. It wouldn’t be a tool. It would be my friend."

Percival stared at him. It was almost exactly what the Swamp God Dragon had asked for. No greed for power. No desire for a trophy. Just a genuine need for a companion to survive the harshness of the world.

"They called you Dared," Percival said. "Is that your name?"

"Yes," the boy looked up at him. "What’s yours?"

Percival didn’t say anything. He looked at the horizon, contemplating. "Where is your village, Dared?"

"It’s Barnesville," the boy replied proudly. "It’s near Deathlehem if you know it."

"I know it."

More than that, Percival was headed there. And if the kid did live in Barnesville, then Percival knew just where to inspect the Baby Dragon’s growth.

"Hold out your arms," Percival commanded softly.

Dared blinked, confused. "What?"

"Do it."

Slowly, the boy held his arms out, palms up.

Percival withdrew the massive egg from his inventory. He placed it gently into Dared’s waiting arms.

The boy gasped, his knees buckling slightly under the sudden, unexpected weight. The egg was magnificent, torched with swirling patterns of obsidian and emerald, radiating a deep, internal heat that immediately warmed the boy’s mud-chilled skin.

Dared’s eyes went wide, reflecting the faint, somber pulse of the egg. "This... this is..."

"...an A-Rank." The boy’s face turned red. "A... Swamp God... omigod! A Dragon!"

Dared looked like he was about to pass out. 𝐟𝐫𝕖𝗲𝘄𝚎𝗯𝕟𝐨𝕧𝐞𝚕.𝕔𝕠𝐦

"Lower your voice."

"A-Rank? Sir, I... I can’t afford a fraction of a scale of an A-Rank beast. I have nothing to give you."

"Your debt to me is to make sure it’s well taken care of," Percival said, his blue eyes locking onto the boy’s terrified, awe-struck gaze. "Take care of it as an egg. Make sure it stays in fire. When it is born, do not cage it. Raise it. Let it thrive. Do exactly what you just told me you would do."

"But... why me?" Dared whispered, holding the egg as if it were made of fragile glass.

Percival turned away, adjusting his cowl. "Because I know what the alternative looks like. Don’t die before it hatches, kid. It’s your first Beast so that means you’ll likely be stronger than your peers."

Dared stared at him. "Thank you, sir. Please tell me your name."

Percival looked at him for a short moment, then almost—just by a fraction—smirked. "Good luck, kid."

Without waiting for a response, Percival melted back into the throngs of Tamers, Mercenaries and Merchants, leaving the young Beast Tamer standing frozen in the mud, holding a king’s ransom and the future of a species in his arms.

As Percival walked, a familiar chime rang in his head.

⸢Contract Quest: Find the Baby Dragon a home - Completed⸥

⸢Reward: Contract your first Soul Beast: Swamp God Dragon⸥

A profound chill swept over him, starting from his chest and radiating outward to his fingertips.

Percival hastened his steps and ducked into a quiet, shadowed alleyway behind a row of abandoned merchant stalls and closed his eyes.

The pungent smell of the Beast Market vanished. The noise faded into absolute silence.

Percival stood once again in the azure expanse of the void. Beneath his boots, the invisible ground rippled.

A towering pillar of light blue smoke erupted in front of him, twisting and coalescing until it formed the colossal, spectral shape of the Swamp God Dragon. Its four pairs of ancient, glowing eyes looked down upon him, filling the void with a majestic, heavy presence.

The beast lowered its massive, crested head until it was level with Percival, assuming a posture of absolute submission.

"YOU HAVE KEPT YOUR WORD, MASTER OF THE DEAD," the Dragon’s voice boomed, vibrating through the Soul Space. "MY BLOODLINE IS SAFE. MY DESIRE IS FULFILLED."

The spectral flames around its form flared brightly, shifting from the chaotic wildness of a free beast to the disciplined aura of a bound soul.

"I AM NO LONGER A KING OF THE MIRE," the Dragon intoned, its voice echoing with the same solemn weight as Mercius and Willow when they had sworn their oaths.

"I AM THE BEAST THAT WALKS IN YOUR SHADOW. AS THE KNIGHT BEARS YOUR BLADE, AND THE ARCANIST WEAVES YOUR MANA, I SHALL BE THE FURY THAT RENDERS YOUR ENEMIES TO ASH. MY SOUL IS YOURS TO COMMAND. I SUBMIT TO THE MASTER OF THE DEAD."

⸢Do you accept The Swamp God Dragon as your Soul Beast?⸥

Percival looked into the glowing, solemn eyes of his first Soul Beast.

"Welcome to the vanguard," Percival said.

When the Soul Space dematerialized, Percival was startled by a loud, familiar voice.

"That was awesome, mister!"

He turned around and saw Dared standing there, grinning with excitement as he clutched the large egg with both hands.

Percival’s eyes widened. "What the fucking fuck, kid?"