The city of Veydrall sprawled across rolling emerald hills like a coiled serpent, its obsidian spires rising like fangs into the morning mist.
Known as the Jewel of the Dominion, it was the beating heart and stood as the capital of the Serpent Dominion of Midgard, a land ruled for centuries by serpent tamers and noble houses that bent wyrms and drakes to their will.
At its core loomed the Jormungandr Estate, a colossal fortress-palace carved from blackstone and adorned with golden serpent motifs.
Spires twisted skyward like fangs, and colossal statues of ancient wyrms coiled around watchtowers. The estate was less a home, more a throne of dominion, where power was forged not by crown or council, but by mastery over beasts that could shatter kingdoms.
Inside, through arched halls lined with serpentine tapestries and wyrmbone chandeliers lay the Ancestral Soul Hall, the heart of House Jormungandr's bloodline.
Rows of obsidian obelisks pulsed faintly with emerald light, each one etched with runes representing the soul imprint of a family member.
When one died, the obelisk dimmed to ash. When one ascended in strength, it blazed like fire.
Three nights ago, the obelisk bearing Ryujin Jormungandr's name had flared violently, casting sparks of crimson draconic light. Despite his exile and disownment, his blood still sang in the ancestral hall.
The flare should have been impossible for an Unranked failure.
Lord Halveth Jormungandr, patriarch of the clan, stood before the obelisk now, hands clasped behind his back.
Broad-shouldered and cloaked in serpent-scale armor, Halveth's presence filled the hall like a constrictor coiling around prey.
He had ignored the flair at first. A last flicker of defiance before death, he assumed. But today, a messenger's report made it impossible to dismiss.
…
The throne hall loomed vast and silent as the messenger knelt low before Halveth's emerald-cloaked figure, head bowed so low his forehead nearly touched the cold marble.
Draped in emerald and gold ceremonial robes, Halveth's serpentine armor gleamed beneath, runes etched with divine authority.
The man radiated a chilling aura; regal, calculating, and utterly merciless.
"Speak," Halveth commanded, voice calm but edged like a blade.
The messenger trembled. "My lord… Ryujin, your son… he lives".
Halveth's face did not shift, but a ripple of silence passed through the hall. Even the banners above seemed to still.
"Hunters have confirmed sightings of Ryujin in the Drakenshire wilds, my lord. Not only has he survived… he was seen commanding a Lesser Drake. Witnesses say the creature moved with him as if bonded".
Gasps rippled through the gathered nobles.
One dared to mutter. "Impossible. An F-Rank exile… taming a dragon? Even veteran B-rank tamers struggle with drakes…"
Halveth's head tilted slightly, venomous calm in his eyes. "The soul imprint told me he lived. I let it be, believing exile would claim him". His voice dropped, a hiss that carried across the hall. "But to tame a drake?"
The obelisk behind him pulsed brighter, mocking his judgement.
The messenger's voice faltered. "There are… rumors, my lord. They say he bears a draconic curse… that he walks with powers not meant for mortals".
Halveth stopped, fists clenching at his sides.
Memories of that day; his son's failure, the humiliation in front of the entire Dominion… it all flickered in his mind. Halveth had cast him out to preserve the family's legacy, to sever weakness from their bloodline.
And now… that same weakness returned, branded with heresy that could topple centuries of serpent mastery.
"This is no accident," Halveth said coldly. "Something festers within him. A power not of our House… one that threatens everything we've built".
He strode to the massive window overlooking the estate grounds.
Below, hundreds of serpent tamers trained, their scaled beasts hissing and snapping. Massive wyrm hatchlings wrestled in pits, while elite knights clad in emerald armor drilled in mounted formations.
This was the might of Jormungandr, a force that conquered half of Midgard and bent serpents to its command.
If rumors spread that an exiled, beastless failure had forged a pact with dragons… the House's iron grip over serpentkind would be mocked and fractured.
Other houses would whisper of weakness, of broken bloodlines. The academy's prestige would crumble.
Halveth's jaw tightened. "Ryujin dares return not as a son, but as a heretic crowned by dragonfire".
He turned, his emerald cloak sweeping like a striking tail.
"No," Halveth said, cold finality dripping from every syllable. "This ends now".
Then…
From the shadows of the throne hall emerged Valtheris, master assassin of the Jormungandr household. Clad in armor of darkened serpent scales and a mask shaped like a fanged viper, Valtheris moved like a shadow gliding on silk.
"My lord," Valtheris said, kneeling without a sound. "You summoned me".
Halveth's gaze burned like green fire. "Find Ryujin. Hunt him through the forests, across mountains, wherever his dragon-cursed footsteps lead. End him".
Valtheris inclined his head. "And the drake?"
Halveth's lips curled slightly. "Burn it. Let the world see that Jormungandr bloodline does not consort with dragonkind. Bring me his head and the beast's corpse".
Valtheris bowed deeply. "As you command. None escape the coils of Jormungandr justice".
The assassin melted back into the darkness, silent as a serpent's tongue.
…
Halveth stood alone in the vast throne hall, emerald banners swaying like venomous tails above him.
His hand rested against the glowing obelisk of Ryujin's soul imprint, fingers tightening until cracks spider-webbed across its polished surface.
"Ryujin," he muttered, voice like a curse. "You were to be nothing. A shadow erased from my bloodline. Yet you crawl back, wearing dragonfire like a crown…"
He glanced upward at the great mural of Ouroboros, the world serpent devouring its tail; a symbol of power consuming weakness.
"No son of mine," he whispered venomously, "will defy Jormungandr law… or become a god among dragons".
The obelisk pulsed again, brighter than before, as if Ryujin's distant heartbeat mocked him from the wilds. Halveth's serpent-ringed fist slammed into the stone railing, fracturing it.
…
Far beyond Veydrall's glittering towers, amidst wilderness, Ryujin and his newly named drake, Nox, slept beneath twin moons, unaware that the most feared assassin of Midgard now hunted them...