CHAPTER 1221: DRACONIC TRUTH

The tension of the moment was palpable, and the air in his soul realm—as much as his soul realm had air—seemed sluggish, as if it too could sense how momentous of an occasion this was.

Leon stood in the center of his soul realm, in front of his throne, with Xaphan to his left and the Thunderbird to his right. In the far distance, past thick curtains of gray mist, he could see motion. Stray eddies of mist whipped out as something massive cut through, somewhat circling his soul realm to come in at an oblique angle. Theatrical, to be sure, to the point that Leon was almost tempted to use the power of his origin spark to push the mist back and reveal his new guest.

Before his patience was worn completely through, however, the Mists of Chaos seemed to bulge for a moment as the massive creature pushed, and then they parted around his enormous body, roiling off black scales and glowing red in the light of his eyes. The Great Black Dragon entered Leon’s soul realm from the Mists of Chaos, and the magic stored within trembled. Leon’s heart skipped a beat as the temperature noticeably rose despite being separated from the dragon by tens of thousands of miles.

Even at this distance, however, Leon could see every scale as it gleamed in the light of the Mists of Chaos and his sun-like origin spark. He could see the Great Black Dragon’s lithe, though huge and powerful form, his thin and angular face, his rib-like horns curling back to protect his thin and deceptively powerful neck; he could see two pairs of pitch black wings, black as night, and a long tail with vicious blade-like spikes on the end. Spikes shot out of his spine, and his claws gleamed like black iron.

Of all his features, however, his three eyes were the most eye-catching—the two ‘normal’ eyes on the sides of his skull were small and narrow compared to the size of his skull, giving him the narrow field of view of a predator, while the closed eye on his forehead was much larger. Given what Leon knew that eye could do, he was glad the thing was closed while the Great Black Dragon was in his soul realm—though he supposed since his Ancestor had destroyed Krith’is in this very place using that very power, then he must have enough control to not cause catastrophic collateral damage.

The Great Black Dragon moved so quickly that with every beat of his wings, a hurricane gale sprang up in his wake. A hundred thousand miles separated Leon from the edge of the Mists of Chaos, but the dragon traveled that distance in minutes. Leon was almost surprised, but he supposed that dead beings in the soul realm didn’t necessarily have the same physical limitations.

On the other hand, as the Great Black Dragon drew closer, Leon could feel his presence settling around him at first like a weighted cloak around his shoulders, and then in the increasing thickness of the air around him, and then in the vibration of the ground itself as the Great Black Dragon beat his wings. Trees and other plants that Leon had blanketed the valleys of his mountainous soul realm with were torn from the ground and thrown through the air simply by the force of the dragon moving above them.

When the Great Black Dragon arrived, the enormity of his body and the force he’d used to travel brought a titanic gale that might’ve threatened Leon’s Mind Palace had he not taken the Thunderbird’s warnings to heart and reinforced the hells out of it. It still had the appearance of a rustic homestead surrounded by a simple palisade not unlike his childhood home in the Northern Vales, but he’d woven his strongest defensive wards not just into the palisade but also into the land itself. Leon was confident that he would not only survive another Nestor-level attack on his soul realm but also completely dominate such a fight with those wards alone.

Leon’s draconic Ancestor circled his Mind Palace several times, showing a degree of flexibility and grace that a creature of his size and mass absolutely shouldn’t have been capable of, and it took all of Leon’s patience not to lose his mind at the sight of the field of purple grass that surrounded his Mind Palace being torn up by the Great Black Dragon’s wing beats. After circling Leon’s Mind Palace, the Great Black Dragon came in for a landing, his body shifting in a momentary flash of light back into his human form, and landing with such grace that momentum seemed no more than a suggestion for him.

For a long moment, Leon glared at him, the roaring wind still whipping around his Mind Palace. Then, with a snap of his fingers, the air froze, and all the damage the Great Black Dragon had wrought upon his soul realm was fixed, superficial as it was. Leon had to channel some mist from beyond his soul realm for the raw material, but at his level of power and skill, that wasn’t a particularly strenuous task.

“What a dramatic arrival,” the Thunderbird said mockingly, her voice as clear and sharp as the morning’s birdsong.

“So it might seem to the weak mind,” the Great Black Dragon growled, his cavernously deep voice contrasting harshly with the Thunderbird’s.

Sensing the bickering this could descend into, Leon interjected. “You answered me. I’m surprised.”

“I have decided to acknowledge you, boy. There is nothing to be surprised about.”

“He’s still in my Clan,” the Thunderbird grumbled.

“Power is power,” the Great Black Dragon dismissively replied. “And blood is blood. I am above all else.”

Leon sighed and stole a look at Xaphan. The demon was practically vibrating with excitement, his fires burning with what looked like half again as much energy as usual.

“This is Xaphan,” Leon said, again cutting off the beginning of an argument—or at least an unproductive exchange of insults.

The Great Black Dragon’s eyes twitched in Xaphan’s direction. “A demon… Reliance on the powers of others is beneath the dignity of a proper dragon.”

“Leon is not reliant on my power. But him aside, I was hoping we could discuss the nature of fire, dragon to Lord of Flame.”

“You are no Lord of Flame.”

A simple statement, but one that hit Xaphan like a brick hit the thinnest of glass. The demon staggered back a step, his fires flickering for a moment before he was able to regain his composure.

“My title was taken. I will have it back.”

The dragon snorted dismissively before regarding Leon again. “Are you ready to train in my ways?”

“Not yet,” Leon admitted. “I called us here to discuss something else. A question I had that needs answering.”

“Speak it and see it answered.”

“As if it’s so simple,” the Thunderbird snarked, her hawkish eyes narrowing into a glare that she directed at nothing in particular.

Leon didn’t speak it; at least, not immediately. Instead, he summoned Iron Pride to his hand and held it tightly. He could feel the Iron Needle in the hilt vibrating with excitement—it wanted to be used, and used often. Even for a brief demonstration, it was as happy as a Universe Fragment could be.

Without overdoing it, Leon called on a hint of power, and in response, an arc of black lightning danced across the blade. Even that much was enough for the grass in Leon’s soul realm to bend away from him for hundreds of miles and for Xaphan’s fires to flicker again as if blown away from Leon.

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“This…” Leon murmured. “The Ancestor Gem that we’ve used to bring you two out into the physical world… seems to have absorbed some of this power. The current theory is that it might be a Bloodline. A new Bloodline. My Bloodline.”

“It isn’t,” the dragon definitively stated. “Bloodlines are not the domain of mankind. You are human; you cannot create a new Inherited Bloodline.”

“The Ancestor Gem seems to treat it like it is one.”

“That thing is a rock.”

The Thunderbird scoffed. “That ‘rock’ is backed by a powerful ancient rune.”

“Powerful compared to what? To you? A mere Reacher? One who died before fully comprehending the Language of the Universe?”

“If you know something…” The Thunderbird took a rather threatening step toward the dragon, who remained where he was, an utterly unimpressed look on his face, though the color of his eyes darkened for a moment.

“I know much, Reacher. More than you.”

Leon stepped between them, physically blocking them from trying anything in the heart of his soul realm. “Can you shed any further light on this matter? The nature of that ancient rune and the way the gem is storing my power?”

The Great Black Dragon seemed only too willing to further dismiss Xaphan and the Thunderbird and turned his red-orange eyes back to Leon, the color of those twin orbs lightening slightly into a brighter orange shade, a color to match the hue of Leon’s eyes.

“Show me that power again,” the dragon commanded.

Leon glared at him, the momentary expression his protest at being so commanded. Only when his draconic Ancestor started looking annoyed did he finally send a more continuous arc of black lightning rippling up and down Iron Pride.

The dead eyes of one of the strongest beings to have ever existed tracked that arc’s every move for long seconds, the attached face remaining impassive and distant.

“Worthy power,” he finally said. “The strength of a Universe Fragment is always to be admired. But to wield such power is different from passing it down. Should you breed, your young will not bear this power unless your Universe Fragment deigns to teach it to them, too.”

Leon would be lying if he said he wasn’t disappointed. A third Bloodline, one of his own making, was an enticing thing, though it certainly didn’t promise good things for his attempts to build his family.

“In that respect… do you have any… uh… tips?”

The Great Black Dragon didn’t even blink. “Present yourself to my Clan. The resources of my descendants’ Empire will see your mates impregnated.”

Leon blinked. “You would have me join your Clan? That easily? Does that mean you’d tell them about me?”

“No. A dragon is not given the objects of his desire. I expect you to present yourself in the manner of a dragon and take what you want from them.”

“You would encourage civil war within your Clan?” the Thunderbird asked, aghast.

“Such is the way of dragons. I would not expect you to understand.”

Leon quickly cut in, “But the… issues endemic to… one with two Inherited Bloodlines is something that your Clan can solve?”

“Any sufficiently-sized Empire has the resources to solve it. You already can, if you only had greater power to back up what you have.”

Leon blinked in surprise. “I… honestly, I was operating under the impression that I needed to be more ‘in tune’ with your power before I could have kids.”

“This is also true. But as with all things, this can be compensated for with the proper knowledge and resources.”

A frown crossed Leon’s face. “Can you… help me with this? I was… to continue being honest, I’m hoping to figure out how to use your Inherited Bloodline with my transformation enchantment.”

Bright orange eyes found his and brightened further until they were nearly the same shade of gold.

“If that is where your ambitions currently lie… then so be it; that is where we will start. I admit that I, too, am curious to see how Krith’is’ madness might respond to my power…”

The Great Black Dragon advanced on Leon, and the Thunderbird almost stepped protectively in front of him. Leon held out his hand to catch her, but she still raised a hand in front of him.

“I will say this again, dragon: this boy is my descendant. Should you bring him harm…”

“Quiet yourself, Reacher. I will not jeopardize the Eye of Calamity opening into the world once more.”

Only after another moment of quiet glaring did the Thunderbird stand back. She didn’t go anywhere, lingering nearby as the Great Black Dragon began directing Leon into testing how his power and running a few small experiments with the transformation enchantment that didn’t go anywhere.

The training continued for several hours, and though it didn’t have any immediate effects, Leon admitted to himself that this was exciting and gratifying, despite his animosity and resentment towards the Great Black Dragon. He continued even after the Great Black Dragon left, going so far as to reference much of the work that his blood mages, led by Valentina, had done studying not only his blood but also that of the other Inherited Bloodlines in his Kingdom.

He didn’t know when he might figure this out, but he had never felt more confident that he would…

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The roar of the crowd shook all of Artorion as chariots raced across the track, hazards like magic quicksand, pits of fire and water, and sparking rods of iron forcing them to meander around the track or risk being slowed down, knocked out of the race, or worst of all, crashing and risking injury or death.

Fortunately, the safety precautions in all arenas were robust by Royal decree, with the only exceptions being arenas operated by Tribal authority—the Lions particularly loved their blood sports, and the nature of their child-rearing hadn’t changed during Leon’s reign. While Leon wasn’t happy about that, he didn’t want to interfere in their internal affairs and possibly alienate them from his authority. Such were their ways, and brutal as they were, the Lions were ferocious fighters.

In fact, the Lion champions who would accompany Leon to the Belicenian Games had already been chosen. The other, more martially inclined Tribes were still choosing their champions, with others like the Harts, Ravens, and Bison bowing out entirely. Many were the events held in the Belicenian Games, including races in alternative vehicles, poetry recitals, and contests of ritualized exchange of insults, some of which Leon’s less martial Tribes could thrive in. Given this was the first time they’d be participating, however, he’d chosen to restrict them to chariot racing and gladiator fights.

Depending on whether or not he wanted to continue participating in further Belicenian Games, he would let his people prepare better and take part in other events.

Elise cheered as the Artorion team passed, dressed in striking electric blue, their horses bred for naturally blue hide, and their chariots all painted blue. While they were in the lead for the moment, Leon could tell that it wasn’t due to favoritism on anyone’s part—his capital city tended to attract the best and brightest in his Kingdom. Consequently, during the past year-and-change’s races to determine the team that would represent him in the Belicenian Games, most of the other teams hadn’t stood much of a chance.

Indeed, most of the chariot tournaments held in his Kingdom during the past two centuries had seen the contests mostly coming down to Stormhollow’s team—and then Artorion’s team—against the teams of the Tribes.

The Eagles were always strong contenders, as were the Bears with their mighty purpose-bred horses, and the Tigers and Jaguars.

Four teams were now racing, the winner of which would go on to the finals. The Jaguar team passed by the Royal box—which the Jaguar himself loudly cheered for despite sitting just behind Leon—only a few seconds after Artorion’s team proved that it wasn’t yet certain who would win.

Chariots rammed each other in the stretches of track where there were no obstacles. Their fierce horses pulled them onward without flinching at the magic that the chariot teams lobbed at each other. Equally deaf were they to the cutting insults sent their way from rival teams and the watching crowd alike. So into the race were the teams that Leon was certain that his decree preventing that level of competition was the only reason the teams weren’t transforming to take their rivalries even further, or to pull their chariots themselves. He hadn’t thought it fair to the other teams from non-Tribal cities and regions, but if sapient creatures pulling the chariots was allowed in the Belicenian Games, then…

Thoughts of the upcoming Games weighed on his mind as the teams shot around the enormous track. Time was ticking down, and he knew that while they were months away, the time when Miuna arrived to pick them up was fast approaching.

‘Should I take Storm Herald to the Games?’ he wondered. ’Showing off the ark would surely convince skeptics that I am who I say I am… But others might want to try and take it, wouldn’t they? They can’t, but is the risk worth it?’

There were many reasons why he might have to be circumspect when on Belicenion, from his home being in the Divine Graveyard to his possession of Inherited Bloodlines. Miuna would provide some cover, to be sure, but how much would her favor extend past the Games? As far as he knew, more than half of the Storm Lords were planning on attending the Games, and while he could make allies during the Games, so too could he make enemies…

Someone squeezed his hand, pulling him from his thoughts. When he blinked, he found himself staring into emerald-green eyes.

“You’re brooding again,” Elise said with a musical tone. “Best to watch the races. Whatever you’re brooding over can wait until this is over.”

Leon quietly chuckled. She was right. He put the Games out of his mind for the time being. He’d deal with them soon, and afterward, hopefully come home with new friends and allies.

But for the moment, he could simply enjoy watching his teams do their utmost to bring glory to him, his Kingdom, and themselves.