In the remote reaches of the Fourteenth Firmament, a place concealed from every chart and rumor brooded in silence.
Inside a cavernous, bone-cold hall, a single Lamp of Fate burned with a murky crimson glow. Without warning, the glass skin of the lamp split and burst, shards and sparks spraying across the stone floor with a brittle crack that echoed off the pillars.
The black-robed elder who had been standing vigil before the lamp jerked upright. Color drained from his face as though the blast had ripped the strength from his limbs. “Morven’s Lamp of Fate… It shattered!”
He shot to his feet and sped toward the depths of the hall, robes snapping behind him as his boots hammered the flagstones. At the innermost chamber, a figure wrapped in swirling dark-red miasma slowly opened his eyes.
The twin points of light that emerged were icy, devoid of mercy, and carried a feral madness that seemed to gnaw at the air itself.
“Morven is dead?” The words rasped out, harsh enough to grate against stone.
The black-robed elder dropped to his knees, voice shaking. “Yes! Morven’s Lamp of Fate is gone… And Quentin’s, and Silas’s as well. All three fell at the same moment!”
The vast hall fell into a suffocating stillness; even the drifting dust felt frozen in mid-air. After a long breath, the shadowed figure let out a low, chilly laugh that slithered across the silence. “How entertaining… That Dragon Sovereign Bloodline is proving far more intriguing than I expected…”
He rose, and the red mist churned around him like a living cloak. “Spread the order. Double the search. I want the Dragon Sovereign Bloodline found, wherever it’s hiding.”
“Yes!” The black-robed elder bowed once and hurried away, footsteps retreating into the gloom. The figure stared toward a distant point no wall could bar, a hungry gleam flickering in those pitiless eyes.
“Dragon Sovereign Bloodline… You belong to me…”
Outside Sky Dragon Valley, Jared guided Vivian past layer after layer of invisible wards until their feet touched the sacred ground of the Draconians.
Vivian’s gaze locked on the sweeping streams of gold draconic energy, on the towering palace carved in the likeness of a coiled dragon, and on the real giants wheeling above the ridges. Words deserted her.
“T-This… Where are we?” Her voice barely left her throat. Jared steadied her hand and answered in an even tone, “Sky Dragon Valley, the hidden refuge of the Draconians.”
A sharp breath slipped from Vivian’s lips, chill and involuntary.
D-Draconians…
The legendary race existed, and it stood before her eyes. Images of the three Demon Dragons and of Jared’s earlier display flashed across her mind, rearranging every prior certainty she carried.
In that instant she recognized the truth, Jared was indeed Emperor Deragon!
Hadrian had already stationed himself at the valley entrance with several Draconian clansmen. Seeing Jared return with a woman, they hastened forward to receive him.
“Your Majesty, this lady is…?” Hadrian asked, stopping a respectful pace away.
“A friend of mine,” Jared replied. “Arrange quarters for her and bring healing elixirs.”
Hadrian nodded at once and signaled for attendants to help Vivian to a place of rest.
Before leaving, Vivian turned back. Her eyes lingered on Jared, tangled with thoughts she could not untangle into speech. Words gathered at her lips, yet none chose to come out.
Jared offered a quiet smile. “Recover first. Whatever needs saying, we’ll speak of it later.”
Vivian dipped her head and let the Draconian attendants lead her away. Jared remained where he stood, watching until her figure vanished around a corner, the curve of his mouth slowly leveled out.
He pivoted toward Hadrian. “Hadrian, summon Roland. I have questions for him.”
Hadrian accepted the command without delay and departed. A short while later, Roland arrived at a brisk trot. “Your Majesty, you asked for me?”
Jared gave a single nod, hands clasped behind his back, gaze steady. “Morven is dead. Quentin and Silas are dead as well. I ended them.”
Roland froze, then a fierce light broke across his face. “Your Majesty’s power is unmatched! The three traitors have finally been brought down.”
Jared brushed the praise aside with a small wave, his expression unchanged. “Roland, tell me… How many stand with the Demon Dragon Lineage, and where is their den?”
Roland sobered, thinking hard before he spoke. “My liege, I don’t have an exact count; but at the very least three to five hundred. Among them are warriors of the True Immortal Realm. Their base… It is buried deep. I have hunted for years and never pinned it to one place.”
Jared considered the answer for a moment, then replied in a low voice, “Understood.”
Roland looked at him, paused for a breath, and said, “Your Majesty, now that Morven and the other two are dead, the Demon Dragon Lineage will surely lash out. What is your plan?”
Jared turned and gazed into the distance. The last light of sunset washed over him and edged his outline in gold.
“Retaliation?” A faint curve lifted his lips. “Let them try.”
Roland froze, then a stern glint crossed his eyes. In that moment he could only admit this Dragon Emperor was anything but ordinary.
“Right,” Jared added suddenly, “Dominic slipped away. He used a teleportation talisman, so I couldn’t catch him.”
Roland’s brows drew together. “Dominic? The Young Lord of House of Wagner?”
Jared inclined his head. Roland thought aloud, “Your Majesty, House of Wagner holds real sway in Cloudhaven City and works with the Celestial Palace Once Dominic gets back, he’ll embellish everything and push both forces against you. Shall I send men…”
Jared lifted a hand, cutting him off. “No need. Dominic alone can’t stir any real waves.”
He let the silence stretch for a beat. “Let him run home and spread the tale. I want to see just how many people on the Fourteenth Firmament wish me dead.”
The words knocked the breath from Roland’s lungs. The idea that the emperor meant to bait every foe crashed into him.
He lifted his head, on that youthful face there was no tremor, only eyes that looked down on the world from a quiet height.
For an instant Roland was pulled back to memories of the Dragon Emperor ten millennia ago. That emperor had worn the same look, and carried the same bearing.
Roland drew a long breath and dropped to one knee. “Your Majesty, I will follow you through fire and flood without hesitation!”
Jared gave him a single glance and nodded. “Rise. First, see that Miss Chance is cared for. The rest can wait.”
“Yes, Your Majesty!” Roland accepted the order and hurried off.
