Master Says the Drawn Traits Must Not Be Wasted

“Hesia! I’m on fire! I’m really on fire!”

“Bruce, don’t get so excited!”

“I can’t control it—WOOF!”

Inside the magic training ground, Hesia was staring, dumbfounded, at the explosive scene before him.

Bruce was tearing around the spacious training ground like a wild bull stung on the ass by a hornet.

Ever since he had bestowed the [Weak Red Dragon Bloodline] trait upon Bruce, the dog had fallen into a state of feverish ecstasy.

He kept muttering “hot,” “flames,” and “on fire,” all of which Hesia could understand.

After all, being able to unleash flames was the greatest dream of Bruce’s doggy life.

But what he absolutely could not accept was— ‘Why the hell are these goddamn flames shooting out of his butt?!’

“Listen to me! You need to calm down first!” Hesia yelled at the “Wind-Fire Wheel.” “We have to figure out what spells you’ve learned!”

“WOOF~”

Bruce let out an unintelligible cheer as he continued his mad dash.

“The first step to calming down is putting out that damn fire on your ass!”

“What? My butt’s on fire?!”

In the middle of his frantic run, Bruce whipped his head around, trying desperately to see behind him.

The sight was so shocking it made him let out a piercing, high-pitched scream: “AR-WOOOO—!”

Hesia turned his head, unable to watch.

‘He’s definitely on fire, and the blaze is “impressive.”‘

The fur on half of his rump had been singed completely clean.

A certain pink, delicate area, once hidden by fluffy fur, was now jiggling indecently with the rhythm of his run, a few stubborn wisps of flame still clinging tenaciously around it.

Bruce skidded to a halt and, out of habit, moved his mouth to lick the area.

But then, something even more horrifying happened—an uncontrollable blast of hot air surged from his throat. With a POOF, a small cluster of flames shot out and landed squarely on his bare “pride and joy.”

“Hesia! It’s over! I can’t feel my pride and joy anymore!” Bruce’s voice was tinged with tears. “It’s… it’s being roasted by fire, and I can’t feel a thing! Is it… is it already well-done?!”

The more agitated he became, the higher the flames on his butt flared, rising with another POOF.

Hesia covered his face, exasperated.

‘Looks like the trait’s effects are instantaneous, even a little too good. Judging by the description, the power of this Red Dragon Bloodline seems to be strongly linked to emotions. And Bruce, being an overly emotional dog, clearly can’t handle this sudden “passion” yet.’

“Try to be calm! The more excited you get, the bigger the fire gets!”

“WOOF WOOF WOOF! How can I be calm? My balls are about to be gone!”

“Why don’t you… take a closer look at the changes to your body? Maybe it’s not so bad?”

Hearing this, Bruce suppressed his fear and sorrow, cautiously twisted his head, and carefully examined his now-smooth hindquarters.

He was surprised to find that the skin where the fur had burned off wasn’t red, swollen, or charred as he’d imagined. Instead, it was covered in a layer of fine scales with a faint, coppery-red sheen.

‘My much-worried-about “pride and joy,” in particular, even has a faint glimmer to it. It looks… strangely sturdy? Is that why it didn’t hurt when it was burned? Because of these things? It actually looks… kinda cool?’

He tentatively lifted his right hind leg and peed on a nearby wooden stake.

An arc of water sailed through the air.

‘Everything’s in working order!’

Bruce let out a small sigh of relief, but then his gaze fell upon his bald butt and his equally hairless, stick-like tail.

‘Ugly! So ugly!’

Back in his Print Town days, he had conquered one lovesick little bitch after another with the thick, silky fur of that very tail.

But now… he felt that his past glory days of burning passion had been utterly burned to ashes by this very real fire.

The sense of loss, combined with the energy he’d spent running frantically and breathing fire, left Bruce completely deflated.

He collapsed to the ground with a THUD, his four paws splayed lifelessly in different directions, the very picture of a dog who had lost all hope in life.

Hesia walked over, crouched down, and patted his scorching hot head.

“Don’t be sad. You may be bald, but you’ve gotten stronger, haven’t you?”

“Think about it, you’re a fire-breathing dog now. One of a kind!”

“You’re one step closer to your dream of casting Flame Burst!”

“Mmmph~” Bruce’s bald tail slapped weakly against the ground.

“I’ll get you some eggs and fish to eat when we get back. Your fur will grow back in no time.”

“Really, Hesia? Will it grow back?” A spark of hope rekindled in Bruce’s eyes.

“Leave it to me. I’ll make sure it grows back as fast as possible.”

Bruce’s drooping ears immediately perked up halfway, and the tip of his bald tail gave a tentative wag. His mood was clearly starting to improve.

Seeing his spirits lift, Hesia decided to strike while the iron was hot. “Besides, since your fur is pretty much all burned off anyway, this is the perfect opportunity! Shouldn’t you hurry up and practice controlling your flames? If you don’t get a handle on it, the moment your new fur grows in, you’ll just set it on fire again in a heartbeat, won’t you?”

Those words seemed to snap Bruce to his senses.

He jolted, scrambling to his feet as his boiling doggy blood began to burn with passion once more.

‘Right! I can’t let my fur’s sacrifice be in vain!’

Hesia recalled the situation at the cave entrance. The flames from that Dogman Mage seemed to have emerged from its claws.

“Try to control that heat inside you and release it from your paws. The fur there is short anyway, so it won’t be too noticeable even if you singe a little off.”

At his words, Bruce immediately lowered his head, stared intently at his front paws, and began to earnestly “feel” and “guide” the energy.

Hesia watched as Bruce began to focus on channeling the flames to his paws. Although his posture was still comical, and he would occasionally snort a few sparks from his nostrils from trying too hard, at least he had temporarily escaped the embarrassing predicament of his butt-breathing fire.

Letting the silly dog figure things out on his own for a bit, Hesia picked up the heavy “Peggy’s Finale” and walked to the other side of the training ground.

He planned to systematically test the two core effects of his new Magic Wand: “Spell Amplification” and “Biting.”

For this, he needed sufficiently sturdy targets.

He had previously asked Thomas, and the training ground could provide iron targets, but any damage had to be compensated at full price.

He found the owner of the training ground, the shiny-headed Jonathan.

The man was standing at the edge of the field with his arms crossed, his gaze sweeping over the apprentices training within.

“Mr. Jonathan,” Hesia said, approaching him. “I need to borrow two iron targets. Old ones are fine; a little damage doesn’t matter.”

Jonathan turned his head at the sound of his voice. His eyes rested on Hesia’s face for a moment, then shifted to the ridiculously-shaped Magic Wand on his back, scanning it back and forth twice. A flash of understanding crossed his eyes.

He didn’t ask any questions, just bellowed in a resonant voice toward one side of the field, “Bring those two lumps of scrap iron from the corner over here!”

After an apprentice responded and ran off, he turned back to Hesia. “Just take those two that are falling apart. Consider them a gift. They’re about ready to be melted down and reforged anyway. If you break them, who cares. You don’t have to pay.”

Hesia had already prepared a speech, ready to haggle. He’d even figured out how to emphasize the targets’ age and wear to lower the compensation fee.

He hadn’t expected the normally indifferent bald owner to be so straightforward, waiving the fee entirely.

Thinking of this, he was just about to open his mouth to thank him—

But Jonathan had already snorted through his nose and waved a thick arm dismissively, as if shooing away some nuisance:

“Saves me the trouble of haggling with you. You rich folk with pockets full of Golden Shields are not only stingy, you’re more annoying than goblins when you start bargaining.”

Hesia: “…”