The Dragon Heir

Chapter 207: Mechanics of a Cage

We finally stood at the mouth of the valley.Two towering rock formations rose like fangs, framing the entrance, but this clearly wasn’t the real destination. Between them, embedded into a vertical hexagonal structure of ancient stone, was a massive swirling thing that looked like tar dragged across reality itself.

A portal.

The moment my eyes settled on it, my affinity stirred.

Quantum and space felt like they were cousins, distant but related, and the portal made that connection itch. I leaned into the sensation and focused, letting mana flow into my eyes.

Usually, you couldn’t see beyond a portal’s surface. It was covered in that strange spatial tar, like a wound stitched over but never healed properly. But as I channeled more mana into my vision, the surface thinned, faded—

—and suddenly I was looking straight through it.

Huh.

Neat.

Beyond it was more icy terrain, but denser with trees. And further in, I could make out a massive wall-like structure. There were people standing near the portal on the other side too, clearly waiting for the caravan to return.

A welcome party.

I cut the mana flow and let my vision return to normal. It hadn’t cost me much, but my eyes glowed violet when I did that, and breaking the mask for something trivial wasn’t worth it.

It had been a while since I’d seen a teleportation portal.

The last time was way back at the beginning of this whole mess, when those elves kidnapped me from Randall. That one had been crude compared to this. Functional, yes. But this?

This one was massive.

It didn’t feel man-made in the same way. It felt… integrated. Like it belonged to the world. Moss and vines clung to the battered stone that formed its frame, the rock weathered by time, ancient beyond guessing. It didn’t look constructed so much as grown into place.

The process of creating gates like this was almost lost knowledge outside this trial. In the present era, only Lithrindel still possessed anything close to the full understanding, and even then their nobility guarded it like a monopoly. The same went for other spatial constructs like rings, storage devices and anything that bent space conveniently.

From what I’d gathered, there were naturally occurring gates like this one scattered across the world, relics from ancient civilizations. They were built atop ley lines, tapping into vast, ambient mana to keep functioning without maintenance.

I shook myself out of it when the Waryns started ushering everyone forward.

A few of them went in first through the portal, cautious as ever. Then came the carts loaded with all the raided loot. Some of their original cargo had been thrown out to make space for the Leviathan remains Alexei insisted on bringing back. They’d stuffed those carts to the brink. The beasts hauling them were practically straining at the seams.

There was no way those wheels weren’t enchanted. No normal wood and metal could survive that kind of abuse without splintering into pathetic little fragments. I had an itch to dissect the enchantment, trace the circuits, peel back the mana weaving and see how it was structured.

Too bad I couldn’t just crawl under it and start digging.

…Or maybe I could.

I shrugged and absentmindedly expelled Curious into the Shadow Dimension. As expected, she immediately slithered toward the carts the moment she re-manifested. I smiled.

Seven minutes was criminally short. What I wouldn’t give to have my clones permanently active. It would be so blissful. I could delegate everything and just be lazy—

—no. Not lazy. I was not lazy. Absolutely not. No part of me was lazy. That clone was clearly some kind of cosmic joke the system decided to play on me.

On second thought, maybe permanent clones would be a disaster. Thalador knew what kind of chaos each of them would unleash the moment I glanced away for half a second.

After the carts passed through, Curious was already stuck underneath one like a particularly vexed and suspicious lizard, studying the underside for enchantment traces. Good girl.

Then the drakkari prisoners were ushered in. Me included.

The moment we crossed through the portal, the world shifted slightly, that odd sensation of displacement brushing over my senses before settling. And there they were.

The welcoming party.

With everyone through, the remaining Waryns entered last, sealing the transition. It looked like a gathering of mixed races waiting beyond.

Faerins, fox kin.

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Urgoths, bear kin.

More Waryns, wolf kin.

Zaryns, hawk kin.

A few Rakaris, lion kin too.

And then there was one single drakkari.

He stood out immediately. Not because he was alone, but because of the space around him. People gave him room without thinking about it. Respectful distance. Authority radiated off him in these quiet waves.

Tousled blonde hair. Emerald eyes. Angular, handsome face. He smiled as Alexei and Maksim approached him, the last to step through.

It felt like a reunion. A relieved one.

Beyond them, I could still make out a massive towering wall in the distance. I stole a glance back at the portal.

I could still feel it.

A faint residual tug, like a thread stretching back to where I’d come from. The sensation told me the portal I’d entered was somewhere far below my current position. Which meant we were standing on one of those two mountains that formed the valley entrance.

The mountains were absurdly massive, so vision alone couldn’t confirm where exactly we were relative to before. And the sheer abundance of flora around us didn’t help either. Trees, snow-dusted branches, life was everywhere.

At least I was getting to poke at my affinity in ways I hadn’t before. That portal alone had already told me I could do more with Quantum than just destabilize reality and blow things up. There were layers to it. Spatial bleed. Residual threads. If this trial was tailored for me, then every “coincidence” might just be a key waiting to be turned.

I made a mental note to come back and examine the portal properly when fewer eyes were around.

But right now there was something far more interesting unfolding.

The Waryns were reuniting with their people. There was laughter, relief, even tears. That told me this expedition hadn’t been clean. There had been losses. Around three dozen people were gathered here in total, and the blonde drakkari— clearly their leader— stepped forward to address them.

“My fellow sons and daughters of Vraal’Kor,” he began, voice carrying easily, "I know you're all drunk on the success of this expedition. Good. Let it warm you. But do not let that warmth distract you from the fire we're still building. I told you before, and I'll carve it into your memory again— our days in this prison are numbered."

There was a murmur at that.

“This success is proof of that promise. The drakkaris who abandoned our purpose, who slunk west to kneel beneath the Tyrant Dragon's shadow, they have been either annihilated or delivered to you in chains. They stand before you now."

His gaze shifted briefly to us. To the chains and to the bruises.

“It was not without cost,” he continued. "We lost many warriors. Beastkin with futures carved in bright flame, wasted in a conflict between those who share the same blood."

The crowd stirred.

“But I ask you,” he said more firmly, "do not pour all your poison into these drakkaris. You know as well as I do how the Tyrant Dragon ruled— not through devotion, but through a leash of fear. We don't know what paths led them west. And while some of you have already expressed your frustration..."

His eyes lingered on the tattered state of the prisoners.

“…I ask for restraint.”

Not everyone looked convinced.

I had a lot to chew on now.

The way they spoke about the Tyrant Dragon made it finally clear for me— it was indeed a title, not a literal dragon. People still flinched at the name. The fear hadn’t faded.

Another thing was confirmed too. They were trapped here. This was a prison, and they were actively seeking a way out.

But what kind of prison was this? Physical? Dimensional? System-enforced? And how exactly were they planning to escape?

It also seemed the Tyrant Dragon had wanted the opposite. Instead of escape, he’d wanted to make this land home. He’d taken the drakkaris west with him and split from the rest who still believed in leaving.

The pieces were starting to align, but there were still gaps. Big ones.

I was certain that once I dug deeper, things would settle into place. I’d need to have a quiet conversation with Alexei later.

I just wished my system wasn’t malfunctioning.

It could have at least told me what my mission or trial was. An objective. A direction. With that context, sorting through all this would be so much easier.

For now, I just listened.

He went on for a while, this time offering fewer details and more fire. It had been a decade since they’d been trapped here, he reminded them. A decade inside this prison. He spoke about certainty, about breaking free this time, about how this expedition was proof they were closer than ever.

Hope was a resource too, apparently.

I absentmindedly resummoned Curious when her timer ran out so she could keep prodding at the enchantments under the carts and along the stone structures. My stealth was still intact. No one noticed the mana ripple. Good.

Eventually, the speech circled back to us.

The prisoners.

Something about it had been bothering me too. Being drakkari and following the Tyrant Dragon didn’t feel like enough reason to keep us alive. There was something more. Some deeper utility we hadn’t been told about.

And then someone asked the question outright.

“What do we do with them?” one of the Faerins asked, disgust written plainly across her face.

“We wait,” the blonde drakkari replied calmly. “They will help maintain the city’s defenses whether they wish to or not.”

His gaze passed over us.

“And we wait more,” he continued, “because sooner rather than later, the dragon’s phantom will attempt to possess one of them. Its current host is dead. When it does, this time we will be prepared.”

A ripple went through the crowd.

“Or it may choose me,” he added, almost casually. "Though I doubt it. I am not fertile ground for its lies."

He spoke the next part more solemnly.

"I know what festers in some of your minds. We've circled this corpse already. We don't know what happens if drakkaris are erased entirely and the phantom is left hostless and wandering. We don't understand how this prison's mechanisms would react to that variable. So we weaponize what we know instead of introducing chaos we can't predict."

His eyes hardened, just a fraction.

"I would paint the ground with my own life if it meant we escaped with the knowledge and plunder we've bled for. The future of Vraal'Kor deserves that much. But I will not feed myself to a machine whose purpose we haven't decoded."

There were guilty looks among the crowd.

And suddenly, a few more pieces slid into place.

A prison governed by mechanics.

No one above Red Core allowed inside.

Talk of accumulated knowledge and treasure.

A structured path toward escape.

My eyes narrowed.

It sounded disturbingly similar to the Colosseum trial I’d entered. The difference was mine had been public and deliberate. These people sounded like they’d stumbled into something ancient and were now trying to reverse-engineer the rules.

Did they have their own trial to fulfill?

Before I could chase that thread further, I felt it.

The blonde drakkari’s eyes locked onto me.

It didn’t take long for others to follow.

Ah.

"Well now," one of the Zaryns said in a venomous tone, "while most drakkaris followed him out of simple fear, there were those who worshipped that filthy phantom like a deity made flesh."

His talon extended like a dagger of accusation aimed directly at my chest.

"They are responsible for most of our dead. I demand her public execution! Let it be a sermon written in blood. Let it declare that the Tyrant Dragon and his devoted little maggots have been buried completely by our hands."