The chapter opens with the rhythmic creak of wheels against dirt roads. Inside a luxurious carriage, Luke Crimson rested his head against the windowpane, his face devoid of emotion. His piercing eyes scanned the passing scenery—endless fields stretching out like a canvas painted in muted greens and golds. The calm on his face was unearthly, chilling even, but his thoughts churned wildly.
"This is where it all begins," he mused, his gaze unfaltering. "The memories of my past life—the twists of the novels I once read—they've led me here. The third son of the Crimson family, thought to be frail and useless, was overshadowed by his siblings. Yet, beneath it all, there was this..."
His expression hardened. "Lucifer himself bound to this body... I didn't see that coming."
A sudden jolt shook the carriage, and it lurched to a stop. Luke straightened, his sharp focus returning. Outside, voices echoed. Two armored guards stood blocking the path, their weapons gleaming under the midday sun. A man with striking blue hair dismounted from the coachman's seat, his movements calm but deliberate. He exchanged a few words with the guards before approaching the carriage door.
He opened it and bowed. "Young master, the city's guards insist on inspecting the carriage. It is standard protocol before entering the capital. I must ask you to step outside."
Luke didn't reply but stepped out of the carriage with practiced grace. The butler, a man known for his impeccable poise, remained at the door, ready to attend to his master. As the guards began their search, the butler's face remained composed—until one guard emerged from the carriage holding a small, trembling creature in his hands.
"What is this?" the guard demanded, holding up a silver-furred wolf cub, its tiny body quivering.
The butler's composure shattered instantly. "A... a wolf?!" His voice cracked, his eyes darting toward the carriage and then to Luke. "Young master, when—how—did this get here?!" His hand flew to his chest as if to calm his racing heart. "I—I personally inspected the cargo myself! There wasn't even so much as a stray feather, let alone a wolf!"
Luke raised an eyebrow, clearly as surprised as the butler, though he masked it better. The cub let out a small yelp, earning a glare from the guard.
"Young master of the Crimson family," the guard said, his tone turning grim, "you are under suspicion of smuggling an unregistered magical beast."
The butler's face paled further. "S-smuggling?! No, no, no, this must be some misunderstanding!" He stumbled forward, his voice rising in pitch. "This... this is the young master's companion!"
The guards exchanged skeptical glances. "Companion? It bears no contract seal. By law, an unregistered magical beast is a serious offense."
The butler's legs trembled as he turned to Luke, his eyes pleading. "Young master, surely you've... you've already formed a contract, yes? Right?" His tone was almost hysterical.
Luke glanced at the cub, then at the butler. His calm tone betrayed no emotion. "I'll do it now."
The guards stepped back cautiously, placing the cub on the ground. It whimpered, looking up at Luke with wide, frightened eyes. Luke, unbothered by the murmurs around him, rolled up his sleeve. Black, intricate markings snaked across his arm, pulsating with a sinister energy.
Biting into his thumb, he let a crimson bead of blood drip into his palm, smearing it into a line. The air grew cold as he murmured ancient words under his breath. His voice, though quiet, carried an unnatural resonance that sent shivers down the spines of everyone present.
The markings on his arm writhed, glowing with malevolent energy. With a sickening crack, his arm contorted, the skin splitting as a blade emerged—a dark, jagged sword etched with runes that pulsed like a heartbeat. The crimson mist surrounding the blade seemed alive, curling around Luke like a shroud.
He lowered the blade to the cub's head, the gesture both ceremonial and menacing. The earth beneath them rumbled, glowing sigils spreading across the ground in a blinding display. The cub convulsed, its cries turning guttural. Its tiny body twisted unnaturally, muscles tearing and reforming as it grew. Blood splattered the ground, steaming in the frigid air.
The onlookers stepped back in horror as wings burst from the cub's back, its form now towering and grotesque—a monstrous hybrid of wolf and dragon. Its golden eyes burned with an intelligence far beyond any ordinary beast.
Luke stood unfazed amidst the chaos, his sword still glowing faintly. The guards, their faces pale, murmured in disbelief.
"What... what is he?" one whispered. "The Crimson family's third son was supposed to be powerless... but this..."
The butler, still shaking, managed to bow stiffly. "Young master... a-a fine display," he stammered, trying to regain his composure. "Shall we... proceed to the capital?"
Luke said nothing, stepping into the carriage as if nothing had happened. While the monstrous wolf-dragon followed.
As the carriage continued its journey, Luke's expression remained as stoic as ever—or so it seemed to the world outside. Inside, however, his focus was elsewhere. A yellow panel floated before his eyes, translucent and glowing faintly in the dim light of the carriage. The moment the taming ritual was complete, the panel had materialized, unnoticed by anyone else.
It bore bold white letters that read:
NAME YOUR TAME.
Beneath the words was an empty text field, pulsating softly as if urging him to decide.
Luke frowned slightly. Naming had never been his strength, and the idea of coming up with something entirely new felt unnecessary. Instead, his mind drifted back to his past life. Memories of a dear friend bubbled to the surface—a companion with whom he'd shared countless joyous moments in the short time before fate had torn him away and cast him into this world.
A bittersweet smile played on Luke's lips as he typed the name into the panel. The act of naming wasn't just about the wolf—it was a tribute, a connection to a life long gone. The yellow light of the panel flared for a brief moment before vanishing into the air.
Just as his thoughts lingered on those memories, a voice snapped him back to the present.
"Young master," the butler began, his voice tinged with exasperation. "If I may ask... are you planning to keep that thing in the carriage indefinitely? Because, if so, I must insist we purchase... additional cleaning supplies."
The wolf-dragon, still massive but somehow curled neatly into the far corner of the carriage, let out a low, rumbling growl—not of menace, but annoyance. It shifted its head lazily, its golden eyes gleaming with intelligence, as if understanding the butler's words and disapproving of the insult.
Luke glanced at the butler, his smile gone, replaced by his usual calm. "That 'thing' has a name now," he said simply.
The butler raised an eyebrow, looking between Luke and the beast. "A name? And may I inquire, young master, what inspired this... honor?"
Luke leaned back in his seat, his fingers tapping idly on the armrest. "It reminded me of someone important."
The butler sighed dramatically, muttering under his breath. "Important or not, I'll have to rework the seating arrangements for trips in the future. Maybe install a... reinforced section specifically for it. Or a magical containment field."
The wolf-dragon rumbled again, its guttural growl reverberating through the carriage. The butler froze mid-movement, his face pale as he realized he might have overstepped. Luke, unfazed, gave the creature a calm but knowing glance. His lips curved into a faint smirk as he spoke in an even tone.
"Calm down, Nahin. Transform. I know you can—I've seen through your little charade."
The wolf-dragon's golden eyes widened in shock, flickering with an otherworldly glow. This ability to transform, a unique trait of its hybrid lineage, had remained a carefully guarded secret—until now. Begrudgingly, the beast's form began to shift, its massive frame shrinking and twisting as the air around it shimmered unnaturally.
Before long, the hulking creature had transformed into a demi-human—a tall figure with piercing golden eyes and flowing silver hair, marked by faint traces of wolf-like features. The sight was nothing short of awe-inspiring.
The butler gasped, his voice quivering as he stumbled backward. "It… it can transform?! That's… that's not just any creature, young master! This is at least a void-level entity! We must inform the head immediately!"
Luke raised a hand, silencing the butler with a commanding tone. "There's no need for that. This is no mere void-level creature. Nahin is of demon lord rank… and holds the blessing of Hróðvitnir."
The butler's mouth opened and closed in silent disbelief, his eyes wide with terror. "Hróð- Hróðvitnir… the god… of chaos—" His words faltered as the weight of the revelation seemed to crush him. Unable to process the enormity of what he'd just heard, foam began to froth at his mouth. His body stiffened, and with an unceremonious thud, he collapsed onto the carriage floor, unconscious.
Nahin, now in his demi-human form, crossed his arms and glanced at the unconscious butler. "Was that really necessary?" His voice was deep and resonant, carrying an amused undertone.
Luke merely shrugged, leaning back in his seat. "He'll recover. Besides, it's better this way—fewer questions." His expression remained calm, though his eyes gleamed with a dangerous intent.
The carriage rattled on, leaving behind an air thick with mystery and an unsettling sense of foreboding.
Here's the continuation of your scene with added atmosphere, fluid transitions, and descriptive elements:
The towering gates of the academy loomed before Luke, framed by the night sky and illuminated by the warm, golden lights of the castle-like structure beyond. The grandeur of the sight was matched only by the aura of mystery surrounding it. Standing in silence outside the gates, Luke exuded an air of calm detachment, his piercing eyes fixed on the intricate runes that shimmered faintly on the barrier ahead.
Beside him, the blue-haired butler adjusted his posture before bowing slightly. "Young master, I wish you great health and success during your time at the academy. As you can see, this barrier prohibits entry to all except students and instructors. My duties end here."
Luke offered a subtle nod, acknowledging the butler's words. Without hesitation, he reached into his pocket and withdrew a gleaming emblem. Holding it aloft, the golden artifact caught the light, reflecting it in mesmerizing patterns. He stretched his arm forward, presenting the emblem to the shadowy figure who had emerged near the gate.
As the emblem was recognized, a holographic figure materialized, its form shimmering like mist before solidifying into a humanoid shape. The voice it emitted was both mechanical and strangely human. "You may name yourself and enter, holder of the recommendation."
[Memory from the Past]
The scene shifted to a spacious chamber, where the wise and weathered Hiesenberg stood before Luke. The Mage of Calamity regarded the young man with a mixture of solemnity and pride. In his outstretched hand lay the same golden circular emblem now clutched by Luke.
"Luke," Hiesenberg began, his voice measured, "as you prepare to depart for the academy, remember this: your recommendation is a special case. You were exempt from the entrance exams due to your… unique circumstances. This emblem will grant you entry, but it is both a privilege and a responsibility."
Luke accepted the emblem with a quiet nod, the weight of the moment etched onto his face.
[Back to the Present]
Snapping back to the present, Luke's expression remained unreadable as he addressed the hologram. His voice, low and laced with a hint of icy menace, carried through the night. "Luke Crimson."
The hologram's glowing eyes flickered as it processed the name. Then, with a tone that was strangely deferential, it responded: "Welcome, heir of the Crimson family. May your journey at the academy bring you glory and honor."