The stifling spiritual pressure that had coiled around the council chamber like a serpent suddenly vanished, leaving the air thin and cold.
A collective, staggered breath swept through the assembled rulers of the allied kingdoms as they pushed themselves up from their reverent—or perhaps simply terrified—bows.
The powerful figure who had commanded such fear observed the room with aloof detachment. His gaze settled on Beatrice, the formidable Queen of the Chenwongo Kingdom.
She was a striking sight, a figure of elegant defiance dressed in a pristine white frock with a perfectly matching wide-brimmed hat. The only splash of color was a small azure pin fixed to the right side of the crown. The pure white of her attire seemed a deliberate contrast to the dark storm brewing around her house.
"I trust you all heard the unsettling rumors concerning the Chenwongo Castle yesterday," the man began, his voice deep and resonating with a power that required no amplification. "Were they truly dragons? Or are we, the rulers of this planet, being mocked by some secretive organization that merely adopted the guise of those legendary beasts?"
He paced slowly before the massive, polished granite table.
"Let us not mince words. Dragons are not merely vicious; they are forces of natural destruction. They do not bother with subterfuge when they intend to destroy.
"I vividly remember the previous incursion. When the dragons first descended upon our world, they brought with them unprecedented terror. Their strength was absolute. No warrior or mage dared to confront one in single combat, for everyone knew the truth: a single dragon could fell twenty armed and trained humans without breaking a sweat."
A tense, low murmur rippled through the kings and queens.
"Their ability to shift forms—from the monstrosity of a dragon to the deceptive simplicity of a human—only compounded the threat," he continued, allowing the silence to linger.
"The only person who ultimately forced them to retreat was none other than Emperor Dominatrix, the second-strongest being of her age. She defeated their Emperor, forcing the dragons into a humiliating retreat from our planet."
He paused, fixing his eyes on Beatrice as the gravity of his words settled like a mantle of lead upon her shoulders.
"And this is why my concern, Beatrice, focuses on you. You are a direct descendant of Emperor Dominatrix. Your family lineage is perhaps the single greatest symbolic threat to the dragons.
"If they have returned, their primary target will undoubtedly be the Chenwongo bloodline. Yesterday's attack may have been their declaration of war upon all of us."
He looked around the council.
"We must all exercise caution. Wait for the next sign. Until then, every kingdom must reinforce its defenses. Protect your families. Protect your borders."
It was at this critical moment—a moment intended for grave strategic planning—that King Rexus of the neighboring kingdom decided to inject his venom.
Rexus was a man whose ambition was matched only by his boorishness, and he wore an expression of self-satisfied irritation.
"With all due respect," Rexus drawled, leaning back in his ornate chair, "I find this entire discussion rather pointless when there is a persistent and very public rumor circulating. A rumor suggesting that your daughter, Rena, has... well, that she bore a child with one of these very same dragons."
The effect of his words was instantaneous.
The solemn tension in the chamber shattered.
Beatrice rose from her chair with a speed that belied her regal composure, her white skirts rustling sharply. Her hand slammed onto the table, sending a tremor through the granite.
Her voice, usually measured and cool, trembled with barely contained fury.
"That," she said, her voice a low, shivering snarl, "is a vile fabrication. A grotesque lie that will never stain my family. I will guarantee that truth with my own life."
Rexus shrugged, his eyes mocking.
"Well then, if it is a lie, there is no issue. But if, by some truly catastrophic circumstance, it were to be true... you know what you are obligated to do, don't you, Queen Beatrice?"
Beatrice did not hesitate. Her jaw clenched so tightly that her teeth seemed ready to grind against one another.
"Yes. I will personally kill my daughter if that rumor is ever proven true."
The declaration sent a fresh wave of shock through the room.
Before anyone could process the chilling vow, King Nullus—a nervous man who was constantly overshadowed by those around him—spoke up, his voice high-pitched with wounded pride.
"Oh! I cannot believe this! This kind of slander is spreading throughout your own kingdom, and even King Rexus knows of it, yet I, your supposed friend, hear nothing about it until this very moment?
"Do you truly view me as an outsider, Beatrice?"
The raw disgust on Beatrice's face was unmistakable. She turned her icy glare toward Nullus.
"Shut the fuck up," she commanded, the vulgarity shocking in such a formal setting. "Consider the gravity of this conversation and the place where you are choosing to air your petty grievances."
Nullus recoiled, visibly shrinking in his seat.
"My apologies. My deepest apologies. I... I didn't think."
The powerful figure, having allowed the drama to unfold, stepped forward to regain control.
King Rexus, however, delivered one final arrogant remark.
"Good. Now, I suggest we all ensure the safety of our respective kingdoms while protecting one another. Otherwise," Rexus said with a dismissive tone, "I will personally take it upon myself to ensure that all dissenting or failing rulers are sent straight to hell.
"Now, I want to rest. Leave this place immediately."
With the meeting abruptly adjourned, the kings and queens began to depart.
One by one, they performed complex, practiced hand signs. Their magical signatures glowed briefly before they teleported away, returning instantly to their respective portal areas.
Beatrice strode out of the building, the humid courtyard air a welcome change from the suffocating pressure of the council chamber.
Her gaze fell upon her waiting white carriage, its driver standing patiently beside the door.
She climbed inside and sank into the plush velvet seat. The composure she had so carefully maintained throughout the meeting finally began to fray.
"How did the meeting go, Madam?" the driver asked gently as he took the reins.
Beatrice stared through the window at the passing landscape.
"They may help us, or they may not," she replied, her voice empty of hope. "Let us leave it to fate. Even if the dragons suddenly attack, perhaps all we can do is watch our kingdom burn. They possess immense, overwhelming power."
The journey back was swift.
Her palace, which had been reduced to rubble only days earlier, had already been rebuilt from the ground up—a testament to the power and wealth of the Chenwongo Kingdom.
It now stood even more beautiful and formidable than before.
Beatrice entered her private chambers and immediately ordered a servant to summon her daughter, Rena.
A sour-faced maid found Rena in her secluded section of the palace.
"Hey, you cheap beggar!" the maid spat, disgust evident in her voice. "The Madam is calling you. Move!"
Rena, who had been living in a state of constant fear and tension, flinched at the harsh insult.
Nevertheless, she immediately rose and hurried toward her mother's chambers.
She stood before Beatrice with her head bowed.
The Queen rose from her massive cushioned chair and immediately cast a spell.
A shimmering, nearly invisible dome of concentrated air magic enveloped the room.
It was the Whisper Spell, a Tier 3 Air Magic technique powerful enough to ensure complete sonic isolation. Nothing spoken inside the barrier could be heard outside.
Then Beatrice did something Rena had not expected.
She walked toward her daughter and pulled her into a fierce, desperate embrace.
Beatrice was no longer the fierce queen.
She was simply a mother whose heart was breaking.
Her rigid composure dissolved, and she began to sob, her tears soaking Rena's shoulder.
"I am so sorry, Rena," Beatrice choked out, her voice ragged. "I truly am not worthy of being called your mother. And I understand. I am unfit to be a grandmother as well.
"That is why you haven't told me where my grandson is, isn't it?"
Rena froze.
Her breath caught in her throat as her wide, glistening eyes searched her mother's face.
"H-how do you know?" she stammered.
Fresh tears immediately spilled over her lashes and traced paths down her cheeks. The composure she had only just regained vanished.
"Mother... how could you possibly know?"
Beatrice looked at her daughter with weary, knowing compassion.
She gently wiped a tear from Rena's cheek with her thumb.
"My dear Rena," Beatrice said, her voice soft but firm. "Did you truly believe you could hide the existence of my only grandson from your mother?
"You may have hidden the boy, but you cannot hide the truth in your heart from me."
Rena's composure shattered completely.
The pent-up sadness and terror she had been carrying for weeks finally escaped in a torrent of tears.
She buried her face against her mother's shoulder and sobbed.
"Mother, that's not the reason!" Rena cried, pulling back slightly to look into her mother's tear-filled eyes.
"I am the reason Father is dead. The blame is mine.
"That is why I cannot risk anything happening to you or, more importantly, to my son. Please, let this matter go. Leave it alone for now."
"No," Beatrice pleaded, her voice thick with conviction. "I must see my grandson. I need to know that he is safe."
"I don't know where he is," Rena confessed, shame flooding her face. "I used a Tier 1 artifact to teleport him to a random planet—anywhere that might be safe.
"Even I don't know where he ended up."
Beatrice stepped back.
A flicker of fierce determination replaced the grief in her eyes.
"I know a method.
"A ritual.
"But it is not simple. It will take an entire year to master the technique, and... you will have to make a sacrifice."
Rena stared at her.
"A part of your own body," Beatrice continued.
Rena did not hesitate.
The thought of finding her son—the last piece of her lost love—was all that mattered.
"I am willing," she said firmly. "I can sacrifice my ear for my son."
A small, weary smile touched Beatrice's lips.
"Then wait one year. I will master it. I promise I will bring my grandson back in time for the next Awakening Ceremony."
As Rena turned to leave, Beatrice suddenly paused.
She looked at her daughter with sharp suspicion, recalling the vicious rumor from the council.
"He is not a dragon, is he, Rena? Be honest with me."
"No, Mother. He is not," Rena replied firmly. "He is human, just like us."
Rena was about to step beyond the magical barrier when Beatrice called out once more.
"Wait."
Rena turned around.
"What name did you give him?"
Rena's eyes softened.
For a brief moment, a faint memory of happiness shone through her deep sorrow.
"His name," she whispered, "is Rayn Chenwongo."
Earth — Top Floor of Valerie Tower
Rayn stood before a floor-to-ceiling window, looking out over the sprawling city.
On his desk lay a business contract worth four billion dollars.
He had not looked at it once.
Suddenly, Rayn turned his head.
His red eyes narrowed as he stared into the empty air behind him.
"Rayn?" his secretary asked, pausing in the middle of her report. "Is something wrong, sir?"
Rayn did not answer for several seconds.
He had heard a voice.
Soft.
Distant.
Like the whisper of a ghost.
It had called his name.
The voice did not sound like anyone he knew on Earth.
Instead, it sounded like...
a memory he wasn't supposed to have.
"Nothing," Rayn said at last, his voice returning to its usual cold, professional tone. "Continue. I want the acquisition finished by morning."
He turned back toward the window.
He was the most powerful man in this city.
Yet, for the first time in his life, Rayn felt as though he were being watched from somewhere money could never reach.