The First Legendary Dragon Tamer

The Plant Dragon's body trembled under Draco's command.

The glow of her pulsing Dragonheart dimmed as the last threads of resistance snapped under the weight of his will. His word—Submit—had bound her, not through mere force, but with a sovereignty that came from his ever-growing dominion over dragonkind.

Her vines slumped, her roots loosened, and the emerald light in her eyes flickered before stabilizing in quiet recognition of her new master.

The great Dragon of Verdant Life lowered her head, her antler-like horns bowing in acceptance.

"Huu… glad that's done."

Draco exhaled slowly, his chest rising and falling with measured calm.

His body was bruised, scratched, and tired, yet the sheer power of victory left him exhilarated. But before he could even fully bask in the satisfaction of his conquest, a strange sound rippled across the lake's surface—an odd cracking, like the snapping of delicate shells.

He turned.

Behind the Verdant Dragon, nestled in the shallow moss-lined banks where she had coiled herself during the battle, were what appeared to be a dozen eggs. Round, glowing with a soft green luminescence, they pulsed in rhythm with the lake's Essence, as though they were alive with its infinite flow.

Draco's eyes widened. "So, during the fight… you…"

Verdantia gave a low rumble, half exasperation, half pride.

Indeed, she had birthed them amidst her battle frenzy, perhaps as an instinctive safeguard to ensure her line continued even if she perished. The rich Essence in the lake, however, refused to allow them a quiet incubation.

Instead, cracks formed rapidly upon their shells.

Crack! Crack!

One after another, the eggs broke open. Slippery green heads poked out, their scales glistening with watery and plantlike hues, a hybrid between the mother's nature-aligned aura and the ambient aquatic energy of the lake.

Their wings were small, their horns stubby, but their eyes—curious, innocent—shone bright.

"Papa!"

The word echoed across the clearing, not from one hatchling, but from many.

Draco froze.

His mouth fell open slightly as the tiny dragons scrambled toward him, their claws pattering across moss and stone. One nibbled at his boot. Another tried to climb his cloak with squeaky determination. A third waddled into the water only to splash and flail, crying out before Draco instinctively reached down and scooped it up.

Verdantia huffed, her massive chest rumbling in amusement.

"They… they think I'm their father," Draco muttered in disbelief, staring down at the slippery bundle of scales in his hands.

Was it because their mother had been tamed by him? Had that inadvertently affected the perception of her seeds? Draco pondered on this, but there was no way to draw a logical conclusion, given how little he actually knew about such matters.

The System, as though it couldn't resist rubbing salt into his bewilderment, chimed at that exact moment:

[System Notification]

<Quest Completed: Seeds of Conflict>

<Primary, Secondary, and Hidden Quests have been Completed>

<Bonus Experience Awarded>

[You have Leveled Up]

Another rush of Essence coursed through him.

He stiffened, letting it wash over his bones, muscles, and soul. The tingling sensation of his power expanding brought with it clarity.

'I'm at Level 15… that's actually not bad.'

Draco had previously been worried about how to get considerably stronger before the Dragon Academy, and he was glad to see that such worries were unwarranted.

This opportunity had raised his strength, giving him far more gains than he expected.

[System Notification]

Soul Slots expanded: 9 total.

Current Filled Slots: 5

Remaining: 4

"Dragon Capture." Draco stretched out his hands towards the Rank 3 Plant Dragon, and she immediately entered his Soul space. He then glanced between the hatchlings—about twelve of them, crowding his boots, wings flapping weakly, little jaws snapping playfully.

His mind raced.

"Twelve…" he whispered. "But I only have three slots left."

Logic told him the obvious choice: kill the surplus. Their small dragonhearts could still be useful for something, and they were sure to contribute to his Exp—enough to hasten his growth even further.

With a flicker of light, a whisper of shadow, he could cull them before they even realized what he was. Yet…

'I can't kill innocent Dragons due to the [Pacifist] restriction, and since these Dragons haven't killed anyone yet… I guess they qualify.' Draco sighed as he looked down at their bright eyes.

Wide, trusting.

Calling him Papa without hesitation.

'Even if they weren't innocent, they would have to attack me first before I could even harm them thanks to [Friend before Foe]… and it doesn't seem like they would do that.'

In essence, eliminating the excesses for his benefit was impossible.

Apart from that, wasn't it also a little wasteful?

His hand tightened into a fist.

"I could… report them," he muttered to himself, pacing slowly as hatchlings followed him like ducklings after their parent. "Bring them to the authorities. Let the Council handle them. That should fetch me some points and increase my position among the Dragon Hunters…"

The thought tasted bitter.

Draco had no desire to relinquish these Dragons—they were his.

Each one brimmed with potential.

If nurtured properly, even the weakest could evolve into terrifying forces.

And more importantly, they were his. The System itself had marked him as their father. Whether by quirk of Essence or destiny, the bond was forged.

'It's possible that they could trace that bond to me, and since I'm not meant to tell anyone of the System… it will be quite a difficult situation. Besides, wouldn't it be too suspicious that I ran into these Dragons?'

First, in the Cave of Trials, he found so many Essence Stones… and now he was finding young Dragons.

Everyone had their limits when it came to suspension of disbelief.

'As much as I want to achieve great things in this world, placing so much attention on myself—to the point where it becomes suspicious—isn't the wise thing to do.'

In conclusion—

"No. I won't let them go," Draco smirked.

Rather than make an instant decision, he pulled up the list of all the Dragons he had captured.

[Captured Dragons (6/9)]

<Lumina>

Rank: Unknown (Variant)

Status: Ally (Injured and Recovering)

Breath: Let There Be Light

<Preta>

Rank: 3 (Nightcrawler)

Status: Subordinate (Active)

Breath: Into The Shadows

<Nyx>

Rank: 1 (Nightcrawler)

Status: Subordinate (Active)

Breath: None

<No Name>

Rank: 3 (Aquarius Solaris)

Status: Subordinate (Active)

Breath: Water Threads

<No Name>

Rank: 2 (Aquarius Solaris)

Status: Subordinate (Active)

Breath: Splash

<No Name>

Rank: 3 (Verdant Wrym)

Status: Subordinate (Active)

Breath: Breath Of Life

[Note: Captured Dragons can not be expelled without consent from both parties]

What was once a desolate list was now teeming with life—six Dragons, with three of them being of Rank 3. This wasn't a bad haul at all.

"[Dragon Summoning]." He called out the Verdant Dragon once again, and she manifested before him after dark green energy circled his body and focused on the select location he had his gaze on.

"Master…" She bowed her head in complete subservience.

"Henceforth, your name shall be Verdantia…" Draco turned his eyes toward the children, who had now rushed toward their mother.

"Thank you for the name, Master."

"You'll raise them," Draco said firmly, his tone carrying the authority of command. "Until the day I can hold all twelve within my soul. They're mine—and you'll nurture them as their mother."

Verdantia's emerald gaze softened.

She gave a solemn nod, her great head bowing in acknowledgment. "I understand."

Though she had been forced to submit, Draco's words were not cruel, nor dismissive.

He recognized her role, entrusted her with what she treasured most.

Besides, after getting tamed by Draco, she no longer held any feelings of animosity towards him, and he also didn't hold any towards her.

His role as Master felt as natural as her position as his subordinate.

The hatchlings squeaked in delight, swarming back to their mother's coils, though several stubbornly clung to Draco's boots, refusing to part from him.

He knelt, resting a hand upon the mossy ground. His mind turned inward.

Six slots filled: Preto, Nyx, the Water Dragon Champion, the female Water Dragon, Verdantia herself, and Lumina.

Three remained free. Not enough.

"Someday," he whispered, eyes glinting with resolve, "I'll make room for all of you. Until then… grow strong. Don't disappoint me."

The newborn dragons chirped again, as though pledging their loyalty.

As reassuring as their filial bond was, Draco was not willing to take any chances with them. He stretched out his hands and gazed upon the twelve.

"Submit."