The return to the Dragon Kingdom was marked by grim silence. The Dragonoid soldiers flew in tight formation, avoiding one another's gaze, their wings heavy as though burdened by the weight of failure. The mighty gates of the Dragon Kingdom opened, and the Dragon King himself stormed toward his royal chamber without a word to anyone.
Once inside, the Dragon King let out a guttural, primal roar — a sound that shook the walls of the palace and sent tremors through the ground. The palace attendants flinched, and several Dragonoids in the halls instinctively backed away.
In the aftermath of the roar, there was only silence.
His closest assistant, a cautious figure named Varkul, hesitated before entering the chamber. Stepping carefully, he kept his head bowed low.
"My King," Varkul spoke softly, his voice tense. "We should be grateful… that Lord Julius chose restraint. Had he wished it, we would have left that court in nothing but ashes."
The Dragon King turned slowly, his crimson eyes narrowing to dangerous slits. The oppressive aura around him thickened like a choking mist.
Varkul immediately understood. He lowered his gaze and silently withdrew from the chamber, not daring another word.
Left alone, the Dragon King paced, his clawed hands tightening into fists. For the first time in centuries, sorrow and humiliation flickered across his face. He was a creature of war and pride — and yet, in Julius's court, he had tasted something rare and bitter.
Defeat.
After a long moment, he came to a decision.
"Enough."His voice was cold, resolute."I will visit Lord Demon King myself."
It was a dangerous move — one that could cost him his life if handled poorly. He knew the risks. But he also knew he could not allow the current power struggle to continue without answers.
Gathering his soldiers, he addressed them sharply.
"You will remain silent. No one speaks unless commanded. Remember — one wrong word in that place, and your lives are forfeit."
The soldiers saluted, their faces pale but determined.
And so, the Dragonoids took to the skies once more, this time heading toward the sinister lands of the Demon Kingdom. The sky itself seemed to darken as they neared the infernal domain. The very air grew heavier, the ground twisted with blackened earth and rivers of molten fire.
Civilians of the Demon Kingdom — horned, shadowy beings, and other nightmarish races — knelt as the Dragon King passed, their heads lowered, wary of both the Dragonoid ruler and their own sovereign.
The great obsidian gates of the Demon Palace opened with a grinding moan. Inside, the halls were lined with silent guards cloaked in darkness. The Dragon King's footsteps echoed as he made his way toward the Demon King's inner chamber.
Upon reaching the throne room, the Dragon King knelt immediately.
The chamber was vast and suffocatingly dark, with only a few crimson torches flickering against the cold stone walls. Upon the throne at the far end sat a lone figure, cloaked in shadow and draped in a tattered hood. The only visible part of the Demon King was a single, pale hand resting on the arm of the throne.
The Demon King did not turn.
"What happened?"
His voice was cold as death, deeper than the abyss, carrying a weight that made even the Dragon King's scales bristlcCe.
For a moment, the Dragon King hesitated — his words carefully chosen, knowing that a single wrong syllable could spell disaster.
"Lord Demon King… the plan concerning the emissary dragons failed. Julius himself intervened. It seems…" he gritted his teeth, forcing the words out, "South Ryehem's defenses were stronger than anticipated. Julius learned of North Ryehem's involvement and… ours."
The chamber fell silent, and though the Demon King still did not move, the weight of his displeasure was tangible.
A low, dangerous chuckle echoed from beneath the hood.
"I see."
The Dragon King's claws twitched against the floor, unsure whether this was the beginning of his end — or an opportunity.