Chapter 13 | They Called Me the Dumbest Dragon, So I Paused Time and Built an Empire

Fanni's inquiry brought Jonavili back to her senses; realizing she had just lost her composure, Jonavili used a dry cough to hide her embarrassment.

"Low-life, take me to see it. If what you say is true, I will not make things difficult for you, but if you dare to deceive me in the slightest..."

Her crystal blue dragon eyes glinted with ill intent, and her conical white dragon tail slammed hard against the ground, causing the point of impact to cave in instantly.

The goblin trembled all over in fear.

"I swear by the name of the chromatic dragon race, I will absolutely torture you to death in the most cruel way possible."

"Yes, yes, yes... Great White Dragon... Lady."

Under Jonavili's instruction, the goblin stood up tremblingly and led the dragon and the sprite toward the cave leading underground.

After traveling for about half an hour, Jonavili was led into a massive mine; there was no need to even spread out her senses, as some iron ore was simply exposed to the air.

Notably, there were small amounts of white crystals within the cavern that served as simple lighting, allowing even goblins without night vision to barely see their way through the mine.

"Great... White Dragon... Lady, as you... see, this is where the... iron ore vein... is located."

"Not bad, you have done very well."

Her white dragon muzzle peeled back in a wide grin; while a resource like an iron ore vein wasn't exactly rare, it was indispensable.

Seeing the white wyrmling's visibly pleasant mood, the goblin felt a sense of relief, knowing its life was finally safe for the time being.

However, Fanni, flying to the side, did not feel the same way and crossed her arms huffily.

The dozen or so goblins who were currently mining the iron ore vein with simple stone pickaxes also noticed Jonavili's arrival; after seeing what she was, they all fell to their knees in terror.

"Simple stone pickaxes, weak labor... at this rate, I have no idea how long it will take to mine this."

Jonavili closed her eyes, spreading her senses for vigilance before sinking her consciousness into her draconic inheritance.

Even though it wasn't her first time here, Jonavili couldn't help but marvel—this was truly incredible.

But she had not forgotten the purpose of her visit.

'Contract magic.'

With a thought, hundreds of streams of water leaped out from the vast ocean and appeared before Jonavili.

'Obedience contract.'

In an instant, the hundreds of streams were reduced to dozens.

'Bronze rank obedience-based unequal contract.'

The streams of knowledge shrank again, turning into a dozen or so.

Jonavili submerged her consciousness into one of the streams.

[Corpse Puppet Contract: The contracted party will turn into a walking corpse-like puppet; their consciousness will be forcibly erased, and their movements will be severely restricted and become stiff. However, the benefit is that they are completely unable to resist the contractor's orders.]

Jonavili shook her head inwardly and withdrew her consciousness.

Although they couldn't resist, the restricted movement was not what she wanted.

She probed her consciousness into another stream.

[Blood Contract: Using blood as a medium to strengthen the binding force of the contract. The contracted party will retain their self-awareness, but will be unable to resist the contractor's will, achieving obedience. However, if the contracted party strongly resists the contract, there is a high probability of failure. Furthermore, for us noble Dragons, weak creatures can hardly withstand the tyrannical power within dragon blood, leading to a high probability of sudden death from being unable to endure it.]

Jonavili withdrew her consciousness once more; as a dragon, she naturally knew how powerful her blood was. Let alone these low-life goblins, even high-tier species had a high chance of dying from being unable to withstand the power within dragon blood.

She probed her consciousness into the third stream.

[Slave Contract: As long as the contractor's strength (including total mana, realm, physical strength, and other comprehensive factors) is greater than the contracted party, the contracted party will become the contractor's slave, unable to resist their will and showing absolute obedience to the contractor's orders. After becoming a slave, the contractor has the right to decide the life or death of the contracted party. The contracted party cannot actively terminate the contract; only the contractor can choose to do so.]

Learning about this contract, Jonavili's eyes lit up; wasn't this the perfect controller for beasts of burden? Moreover, these beasts would work for her unconditionally without even considering wages.

Thinking of this, Jonavili no longer hesitated and began to learn this contract magic.

A dragon's magical talent far surpassed other races; in just a few minutes, Jonavili had completely mastered this slave contract.

When she opened her eyes again, ice-blue contract scrolls condensed from mana had already appeared before the goblins.

Dragons are the darlings of magic, and they can master draconic magic very quickly; if they learn to construct mental nodes, they can even achieve chantless casting.

It was worth mentioning that ordinary magic of other races was also a breeze for dragons; any dragon with even a bit of talent could master chantless casting.

Looking at the contract scrolls appearing before them, the goblins realized what was about to happen, and their expressions became as ugly as if they had eaten filth.

One must know that being enslaved by a dragon, especially a chromatic dragon, was no different from a death sentence; after all, chromatic dragons were notorious for being eccentric and moody.

If they had a choice, these goblins would rather eat filth than be enslaved by a chromatic dragon.

An icy voice entered the ears of the goblins present, delivering the final sentence.

"Sign and live, resist and die."

"The method is simple: drip your blood onto it."

The goblins fell into hesitation, but as Jonavili's gaze grew colder and the sprite's expression became more smug, the goblin who had led Jonavili down finally buckled under the pressure and immediately bit his palm.

Blood, like green sap, flowed out, and the goblin pressed his palm onto it; the blood quickly merged with the contract scroll. Under the witness of the God of Contracts, the goblin felt a faint, mysterious connection form between himself and the white wyrmling before him.

With one goblin taking the lead, the other dozen or so goblins followed suit.

Jonavili glanced at the leading goblin and said coldly.

"A sensible fellow. Tell the great Jonavili, what is your name?"

The goblin knelt on the ground and said with a trembling voice.

"In response to the White Dragon Lady... I, my name is Starnock."

He had chosen this name himself; after all, the goblins who sired him had low intelligence and couldn't even speak the Common Tongue, let alone give names.