Chapter 971 – Blood of Dragons
The light in the infirmary was soft and golden, filtered through linen curtains that swayed gently in the morning breeze. The scent of incense and poultices hung in the air, mingling with the faint metallic tang of magic-infused medicine.
Kael sat quietly beside the bed, elbows resting on his knees, his eyes fixed on the woman lying before him.
She was breathtaking even in her wounded state—hair like strands of molten gold, faint scales glimmering beneath her skin, her once-proud horns chipped and dull. The faint rise and fall of her chest was proof enough that the true dragon still lived.
When her eyes opened, they were molten amber. The same as his mother's.
"…You've grown," she murmured, her voice carrying that ancient, melodic depth only dragons possessed.
Kael's lips curved into a tired smile. "You're one to talk, Aunt Lysara. You still look like you could burn down half a continent."
Her laugh came out as a soft, weary rumble. "Flatterer." Then her expression softened into something heavier, something tinged with guilt. "You freed me once, Kael… and I failed to make that freedom mean something."
Kael shook his head. "You survived. That's enough."
She closed her eyes for a moment, breathing deeply. "After you and your daemon freed me from that dungeon, I flew east. I thought I could disappear, live quietly among the peaks. But the humans… they found me."
Her voice darkened, the air itself seeming to chill.
"They had weapons made with chaos crystals—your chaos crystals, I think. They wounded me, bound me with seals of light, and dragged me to that battlefield. They wanted to use me as a prize, a weapon to rally behind their so-called hero."
Kael's jaw tightened. "And he was the one who kept you chained?"
Lysara nodded, eyes dimming. "He beat me when I resisted. When I tried to speak to him of the old gods, he called me a liar. Said he would 'purify' me in his god's name." Her gaze lifted to his, a faint smile ghosting across her lips. "Then you came. Just like your mother would have."
Kael leaned back slightly, the tightness in his chest easing. "I didn't come for glory. I came because you're family."
Lysara's golden eyes softened with quiet pride. "You've done well, Kael. You've built something that even dragons whisper about. The Hollow… the daemon city of peace. I never thought I'd see the day."
He gave a wry grin. "Peace is relative. But it's holding."
The sound of soft footsteps drew his attention. Lyria entered, dressed in her light leathers, hair braided back but eyes warm. Eris followed behind, her crystalline hair shimmering faintly under the morning light, her expression curious but cautious.
Lysara's eyes flicked between them with knowing amusement. "And who are these beautiful souls?"
Kael stood, gesturing first to Lyria. "This is Lyria—my partner, and the woman who keeps me sane."
Lyria smiled politely and offered a small bow. "It's an honor to meet you, Lady Lysara. Kael speaks of you often."
"Does he now?" Lysara's tone was teasing, her eyes narrowing playfully toward Kael, who rolled his eyes.
"Only when I'm comparing your stubbornness," he muttered.
That drew a laugh from both women.
Then Kael turned to Eris, his expression softening slightly. "And this is Eris. A… friend."
For the briefest moment, the word seemed to hang in the air, heavy with meaning. Eris smiled—a small, careful thing—but her eyes flickered with something else. Disappointment? Longing? Even Kael noticed the subtle droop of her shoulders, but she masked it quickly.
Lysara tilted her head, studying Eris for a long moment. "You're not human," she said simply.
Eris met her gaze without hesitation. "No. I am a construct given form. Kael gave me life."
That seemed to intrigue the dragon even more. "A spirit made flesh," Lysara murmured. "You've achieved something not even the old gods managed, Kael."
Kael shrugged. "Mostly her doing. I just built the body."
"Modest as ever," Lysara chuckled. "The world changes faster than even dragons can keep up. Tell me, nephew—what do you plan to do now that you've slain a god?"
The room went still.
Kael's eyes flicked away, his smirk fading. "For now? I plan to make sure no one ever dares try again. Not the church. Not their heroes. Not even the gods themselves."
There was no pride in his voice—only iron certainty.
Lysara leaned back against her pillows, watching him quietly. Then she smiled, faintly proud, faintly sad. "You sound just like your mother when she defied the heavens. I hope you fare better than she did."
Kael met her gaze and gave a quiet, resolute nod. "I'll make sure of it."
Eris stood silent at his side, her eyes drifting toward him—something warm flickering there for just a heartbeat before she turned away.
And for a rare, fleeting moment, the Hollow was calm.
A god was dead. A dragon was free.
And Kael—blood of dragons and lord of daemons—finally allowed himself to breathe.