CHAPTER 48: RECRUIT MAX!

Chapter 47

"Hunters huh? So what do you want with me?" Max asked with a raised eyebrow as he still found everything that was said hard to process.

"To recruit you," Elijah replied.

"Recruit me? Why the hell would you want to do that?" Max asked again, his brow rising higher as he was taken aback slightly.

"Like I had any choice. If it was left to me, I would have killed you the first day I saw you. But the master forbade me, so here we are." Elijah scoffed, causing Max’s furrowed brow to deepen.

"Why do you want to kill me? I mean, not like you can actually." Max chuckled with a smirk on his face, trying to sound confident.

"You really underestimate Hunters. I could be seated right now and your head would roll on the ground without you realizing anything." Elijah shook his head and then sighed before taking a gulp of his drink, finishing it.

’I wonder how strong he is. And I wonder how strong the Hunters are,’ Max thought with unease prickling in his chest.

"About your question. I want to kill you because it is your aura, your power, that is making demons trickle back into our world.

For three hundred years, humans lived in peace and because of you... because of the hatred they hold for dragons, they are coming right back." Elijah’s voice hardened as he glared at Max with so much resentment and hatred that the young dragon stiffened in his seat.

’Be... because of me? So all these demonic problems are because I’m alive? If I kill myself now, will it stop? Tch! Like I would ever throw my life away for a world I barely have any attachment to,’ Max scoffed inwardly.

"So any idea why your master wants to recruit me? Even by the fact that it is because of me demons are trickling in?" Max asked when he heard Elijah sigh.

"Because you are a dragon. During the war, the dragons were formidable. Their powers were world-ending, but even with that, they were unable to win, and their leader had to seal the demons away. Now... how do you think we Hunters managed to deal with the strays and beasts we encounter?" Elijah asked.

"Aren’t you all hybrids or something?" Max asked with a raised eyebrow.

"About ten percent of us are. The remaining ninety, we rely on the gift the dragons bestowed on us." Elijah said as he pulled out the sword which was strapped around his waist and then dropped it on the table in front of them.

"What is this?" Max asked, his eyes narrowing as he stared at the sword warily.

"It’s a kitchen knife. Here, use it to chop onions. You butthead, it’s a sword." Elijah clapped back in anger as a vein now protruded from his head.

"I know it’s a sword, you annoying Hunter, but why is it out?" Max asked in frustration as he was slowly getting annoyed.

"To answer your damn question. This is the gift bestowed on us by the dragons," Elijah replied with equal energy.

"Swords? I didn’t know that the dragons were black..." Max stuttered as Elijah pulled the blade from the sheath, and without warning, Max’s eyes began glowing yellow as he stared at it.

’The fuck?! Th... th... what the hell is this?’ Max roared inwardly as he felt his heart thumping loudly while staring at the sword through his dragon eyes.

’I thought non-living objects don’t have an aura,’ he thought again, his confusion deepening. Yet staring right back at him was the sword, brimming with orange energy.

The energy wasn’t fiery but still strong and powerful, and somehow familiar. It was like staring at the faint heartbeat of a long-forgotten creature, preserved within steel.

’So the sheath was used to conceal the aura? Fascinating,’ Max thought after calming down and deactivating his dragon eyes to scan the weapon properly.

The surface was smooth but unnaturally warm, almost as if it held a faint breath of life. The sword shimmered under the bar’s dim light, its blackened edge flecked with deep crimson veins that glowed faintly, like embers trapped beneath glass.

And the longer Max stared, the more he felt a strange pull toward it, as though some unseen force wanted him to reach out and claim it as his own.

The blade was not carved with steel as he expected, no! It was carved with an orange scale. Each scale etched into the blade’s length looked like it had once belonged to something ancient and terrifying, as though the weapon itself carried the weight of forgotten legends.

It didn’t feel like steel. It felt... alive.

"Th...this..."

"Yes! It’s carved from the scales of the dragons of old. Just like the hybrids get their transformation and powers from the DNA of old beasts, we get our own strength from blades forged from dragon scales... or even from other dragon body parts depending on the weapon," Elijah explained, his tone carrying a mixture of pride and reverence. Max’s mouth was left agape, the words refusing to come out.

Quickly, the Hunter sheathed the sword and strapped it back to his waist with practiced ease.

"I still don’t understand. Then how do you guys contend with a beast’s speed? I mean, I faced the demon vessel along with a real demon, so I know their speed differs greatly. How do you keep up?" Max asked, his face twisted in confusion.

"Your eyes... They glowed yellow just now. What was that used for?" Elijah asked as he leaned back into his chair, his gaze sharp, while Max raised an eyebrow in confusion.

"It’s part of my Draconic powers. It allows me to view the aura of people even through buildings or barriers. It activated when I saw the sword, and I could see a brimming aura inside it," Max replied honestly, still recalling the overwhelming sensation that had washed over him.

"Good. At least we know you are not a fake dragon. The aura you saw is called Draconic essence, which is trapped in the body of dragons. Carving weapons from their bodies and using them for ourselves gives us certain advantages," Elijah said firmly, leaning forward once again as though he wanted the words to sink deeply into Max.

"Advantages? What advantages?" Max asked curiously, his voice edged with impatience.

"I think I have said enough for tonight. When you join the Hunter Association, you will be told more about all these. I guess I have tried my best tonight," Elijah finally said, standing up from the chair. He dipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out a card, then flicked it toward Max.

Max caught it effortlessly and stared down at it, his expression puzzled.

The card was the size of a business one, cold to the touch, with only two words imprinted on it.

"Slay."

"Destroy."

The card felt metallic beneath his fingers, strangely heavy, as if it carried more than just words. A faint hum seemed to vibrate from it, making him wonder what its true purpose was.

"When you have decided to join us," Elijah said, drawing Max’s attention upward, "imprint your blood on any part of the card and you will be teleported to us. Remember, no take backs. If you imprint your blood on it, there is no going back."

Max glanced back at the card, his mind wrestling with uncertainty, his expression clouded in confusion.

"But..." he began, lifting his head to speak—only to realize there was no one standing in front of him anymore.

Elijah was gone.