My God-Tier Beast Begged Me Not to Contract It

Baits

"Wake up, you scumbags!"

The prison doors rattled as several guards stormed into the cell block where Scott and other death row prisoners were.

"Move it! Get ready. You're being transferred to the ceremony grounds before tomorrow's main event."

Groans echoed throughout the prison.

Some prisoners cursed under their breath while others slowly pushed themselves to their feet.

Scott remained silent.

He hadn't slept a single moment that night.

His mother's face had haunted every second.

Was she still alive?

Has her fever worsened?

Has anyone even checked on her?

The questions tortured him endlessly.

The guards unlocked the chains around the prisoners' legs while leaving their wrists bound.

One prisoner stretched his arms and grinned.

"Finally! I get to see a Beast Summoning Ceremony before I die."

Several prisoners stared at him as if he had lost his mind.

"Fool."

A man sitting nearby snorted.

"You should be worrying about your miserable life ending soon, yet you're excited about some ceremony."

The cheerful prisoner chuckled.

"Coming from you, that's rich."

The guards herded them out of the prison yard and toward a long line of transport carriages.

The cheerful prisoner's grin widened.

"You act all proud and mighty despite being a failed noble."

The prisoner's expression instantly darkened.

"And what if I am?"

Several heads turned.

A noble?

Among prisoners?

The cheerful man laughed.

"Oh, don't look so surprised. I recognized him days ago."

He pointed at the man.

"Failed mage."

The noble's eyes narrowed.

The cheerful prisoner continued mercilessly.

"I saw the remains of your summoner tattoo on your chest. You've been trying to hide it ever since."

The surrounding prisoners exchanged confused looks.

"Wait," one of them said. "We have a noble among us?"

"I thought we were all slaves."

The cheerful prisoner barked a laugh.

"Noble? He's barely that anymore."

The failed mage clenched his jaw.

The cheerful prisoner's smile only grew wider.

"When everyone else was summoning Legendary Beasts and Mythic Beasts, this genius managed to summon a single Golden Beast."

Several prisoners winced.

Even Scott knew that was embarrassing by noble standards.

The cheerful prisoner wasn't finished.

"And then his precious beast got slaughtered by bandits."

A few prisoners burst out laughing.

"The bandits stole everything he was supposed to deliver to the king."

The failed mage's face turned red with rage.

"But instead of running away, he marched back to Azra empty-handed expecting praise for being honest."

The cheerful prisoner shook his head dramatically.

"What a loser."

The failed mage lunged forward.

His chains rattled violently.

"You want to die?"

Several prisoners quickly stepped back.

"You're provoking him."

"Careful."

"He's still a mage."

"Mage?" the cheerful prisoner scoffed.

"My foot."

He waved dismissively.

"Everyone knows summoners who gain their power through beasts lose that power once the beast dies."

The failed mage's silence only confirmed it.

The cheerful prisoner smirked.

"He's just as powerless as the rest of us now."

He leaned closer.

"Honestly, I'd rather stay a slave than summon a single Golden Beast."

The failed mage looked ready to strangle him.

"Most people at least summon three or four Golden Beasts to soften the embarrassment."

He pointed directly at the noble.

"You only managed one."

Several prisoners struggled not to laugh.

The failed mage looked moments away from exploding.

Before things could escalate further, another prisoner spoke up.

"Is it true nobody has summoned a God-Tier Beast for over a hundred years?"

The cheerful prisoner turned toward him and blinked.

Then he looked genuinely offended.

"Are you not from Azra?"

The man shook his head.

"I see."

The cheerful prisoner rubbed his forehead.

"That explains why you'd ask such a dumb question."

Several prisoners chuckled.

Even the guards glanced over with mild interest.

The cheerful prisoner puffed out his chest.

For the first time all morning, everyone was actually listening to him.

"Listen carefully."

By now they had reached the transport carriages.

The prisoners were chained together and loaded inside.

The wheels creaked as the convoy began moving toward the ceremonial grounds.

"There are four levels of beasts."

He held up four fingers.

"At the top are the God-Tier Beasts."

His playful expression vanished.

Those words alone made several prisoners nervous.

"They cannot be summoned."

The group grew quieter.

"The only way to obtain one is through a Soul Contract."

"And how do you do that?" someone asked.

"You hunt it."

Several prisoners immediately cursed.

The cheerful prisoner nodded.

"Exactly. You find it, survive meeting it, and somehow convince it to bond with you."

His grin returned.

"The survival rate is roughly half."

"Half?"

"Meaning one out of every two people dies."

The carriage suddenly felt much quieter.

The prisoner continued.

"God-Tier Beasts are hunters. The summoning globe creates portals that bind beast souls to summoners."

He pointed toward the distant city walls ahead.

"But those monsters are smart. Sometimes they force their way into the portals because they know where those portals lead."

The prisoners exchanged uneasy looks.

"Human cities."

A chill ran through the carriage.

"If one appears during a ceremony..."

He shrugged.

"Everyone dies."

Several prisoners swallowed hard.

"Their favorite meal is human flesh."

The silence deepened.

"Even Legendary Beasts struggle against them."

"How strong are they?" someone asked quietly.

The cheerful prisoner's smile faded.

"One God-Tier Beast can match seven or eight Legendary Beasts."

A stunned silence followed.

"That's insane."

"No wonder they're feared."

Scott listened to the conversation.

None of this was new to him.

He had grown up hearing these stories.

But right now he couldn't bring himself to care.

His mother remained the only thing on his mind.

He needed to escape.

Nothing else mattered.

"So Legendary Beasts come next?" another prisoner asked.

The cheerful man nodded.

"Correct."

He raised his fingers one by one.

"God-Tier."

"Legendary."

"Mythic."

Finally, he glanced toward the failed mage.

"And at the bottom, Golden Beasts."

The failed mage looked ready to murder him.

Several prisoners laughed.

The cheerful prisoner ignored them.

"A summoner can own as many beasts as their energy core allows."

"What if someone steals your beast?"

"That happens too."

The prisoners blinked.

"It does?"

The cheerful prisoner nodded.

"If your beast contract is weak and your opponent is stronger, they can break your bond and steal your beast."

Few of the prisoners panicked at the sound of that.

That's scary.

The cheerful prisoner laughed at their expressions.

"Not a problem for slaves like us."

His smile faded slightly.

"Only nobles are allowed to keep the birthmark tattoos that grant magic and summoning abilities."

The mood became heavier.

"We all know what happens to slaves."

Many heads lowered.

"When a slave is branded, the seal is burned into their body using sealing magic."

His voice grew quieter.

"After that, their magic can never awaken."

The prisoners remained silent.

"And children born from sealed bloodlines usually inherit nothing."

The carriage grew still.

"That's why most slaves in Azra have no birthmark tattoos."

Scott froze.

A strange feeling settled in his chest.

His mother had a seal.

His father had one too.

Even his younger brother, before dying from illness, had received a seal as an infant.

Yet Scott had never seen one on his own body.

Not once.

The memory surfaced clearly.

His little brother screaming as the branding iron touched his skin.

His mother's tears.

The smell of burning flesh.

Scott had never asked questions after witnessing that.

Some wounds were too painful to reopen.

"We're here!"

The guards' voices shattered his thoughts.

The carriages rolled through enormous stone gates.

The prisoners were dragged out one by one.

Scott looked up.

His eyes widened slightly.

The ceremonial grounds spread before him like a colossal stone bowl carved into the earth.

Rows upon rows of elevated stone seats rose in wide circles around the arena. Noble viewing platforms decorated with banners overlooked the grounds from above. Massive pillars engraved with ancient runes stood around the perimeter like silent guardians.

At the very center rested the Summoning Globe.

A giant sphere of shimmering crystal.

A reinforced cage of enchanted metal surrounded it, forming multiple protective layers.

The structure radiated faint pulses of blue light.

Even from a distance, Scott could feel the magic flowing through it.

The guards dragged the prisoners toward a smaller iron cage positioned near the center of the grounds.

One prisoner frowned.

"Why exactly are we staying inside this cage?"

The prisoner from outside Azra asked again.

The cheerful prisoner turned toward him.

A sly grin spread across his face.

"We're bait."

The man's smile widened.

"Just in case a God-Tier Beast decides to come hunting."