The Dragon Heir

Chapter 209: There’s a Monster in the Walls

…Was this thing… dead?What I felt within those walls was a gigantic shape, one that vaguely resembled the head of a basilisk. Its massive body stretched through the wall before me and kept going until it passed beyond the limits of my perception.

It had to be serpentine. I had detected it from a distance before, but the sheer scale of it… it rivaled a leviathan. Sleeker, though. Longer. Built like a true serpent rather than a blunt force of nature.

I couldn’t sense any signs of life from it. Not directly. And yet something about it felt wrong. The discomfort wasn’t coming from my skills; it was instinct, the quiet kind that presses at the back of your skull and refuses to elaborate.

I shook my head internally. These people had lived here for nearly a decade, if their accounts were true. What were the chances that this thing would reveal itself only when I arrived? And was it even alive at all? My physical senses insisted it wasn’t. My gut insisted something was deeply flawed with that conclusion.

Was I jinxing myself?

Ugh.

I hated this.

I glanced around and saw no one reacting as if there were a massive serpent threaded through the very foundation of the wall surrounding their city.

Or maybe they were reacting, and I simply couldn’t tell.

I would find out later.

For now, I was ushered forward by my “escorts.”

They were rougher now, and people were staring. The guards at the enormous city gates— so large the men beneath them looked like ants— watched the prisoners with barely restrained hatred.

Once we crossed inside, the shift was immediate. The weight of collective gazes nearly snapped my mast outright. Almost none of the onlookers were drakkari. A myriad of beastkin filled the streets, and I even saw children among them.

That was when I finally grasped the scale of the city.

The roads climbed uphill, flanked by layered buildings stacked along the incline, and at the very top, right at the center, a massive palace-like structure loomed over everything. The population seemed sparse compared to the sheer grandeur of what surrounded them.

The architecture was grand as well, but broken and battered by time and neglect. It was clean, though, in a way that felt unnatural— like a ghost city occupied by strangers who had brushed away the cobwebs without truly belonging to it.

I could only imagine how magnificent it must have been once. The buildings felt as though they were meant to house giants rather than beastkin or humans. Even the stairs before me, leading toward an elevated district of the city, seemed a little too large for ordinary people.

And then I noticed the final detail threaded through it all.

Dragons.

They shaped the archway we had entered through. Their sinuous forms coiled around pillars. In the distance, where the great staircase led upward, there stood a fountain-like structure, and at its center rose the statue of a long, serpentine dragon with two pairs of wings— massive forewings and another pair along the torso, still vast but smaller than the first.

Its maw was open, as if poised to spill divine flame over the city below.

Subtle draconic details threaded through the architecture as well.

It almost felt as though this city had once been inhabited by beings closer to my own half-dragon form. I stood over eleven feet tall in that shape, tall yet still built for grace rather than brute bulk, and everything around me seemed scaled for something similar. The proportions, the arches, the sheer preference for vast spaces adorned with whole dragon imagery all pointed in that direction.

Curious Clone would be in absolute bliss here. She would obsess over every carving and measurement until someone physically removed her from the premises. I felt the pull too, but I had more pressing concerns than indulging architectural archaeology.

The cohort was led deeper into the city. The people lining the roads spat venomous glares at the prisoners, but their expressions transformed entirely when their gaze shifted to their leaders. Reverence replaced hatred. They called them young masters, praised their bravery and return. Children carried buckets filled with flower petals and scattered them before the Waryns as they passed.

The blonde leader— Markus, as I now knew— wore a pleased smile while ascending the stairs into the heart of the city. More citizens crowded the balconies above, and a cacophony of celebration followed their procession.

The prisoners were kept in place for a moment before being herded left toward a cramped structure that I assumed would serve as their lodgings. Avena remained among them. She looked conflicted, stealing glances at me whenever she thought I wasn’t paying attention.

Unfortunate for her, no gaze upon me went unnoticed.

I had marked her with Observer’s Mark and Suggestion as well. Lightly. Just enough to keep track. She was the only one who had seen me act outside the priestess façade. For now she had remained silent about it, but I couldn’t gamble on that continuing once we were separated.

Better safe than sorry.

I, on the other hand, was dragged to the right.

It quickly became clear where they were taking me. A descending path opened ahead, stairs spiraling downward into the earth. Not sewers, something more deliberate than that.

“Move!” one escort barked, shoving me forward.

I snapped my head toward him and let my glare land properly. His pupils shrank in alarm and he stumbled back a step before I reined myself in. I had almost crushed his hands without even meaning to.

This city was making me jumpy in more ways than one.

The dragon-laced architecture. The colossal serpentine presence forming the foundation of the wall encircling the city, which I had first assumed to be some gigantic basilisk but was no longer so certain about.

As they led me deeper into the winding subterranean passageways, the intention behind this detour began to settle into place.

According to them, I stood at the top of the list of those most likely to be possessed by the so-called “dragon phantom.”

If only they knew the original priestess was gone.

And that I had taken her place.

The real question was how dangerous this “priestess” would become if that so-called dragon phantom actually managed to possess her. With the scraps of information I had, I couldn’t reach a clean conclusion.

These people, however, seemed very certain.

After weaving through passages that spiraled toward what felt like the city’s center, we emerged into a vast underground chamber. The structure resembled a cathedral, or what remained of one. Like the rest of the city, it was a skeleton of its former self, stripped of splendor but not of presence. Even diminished, it carried weight. I could only imagine how overwhelming it must have been in its prime.

The draconic imagery was everywhere again. Pillars wrapped in carved coils. Massive dragon heads set into the walls, sculpted with such precision that they looked one motion away from shrugging off the dust of millennia and spilling fire into the chamber.

A grand entrance loomed in the distance, tall and almost solemn in dim light, but it was not where I was being taken. Before that gate, another staircase descended underground, opening into what looked unmistakably like dungeon cells.

A prison.

The reason for bringing me here revealed itself quickly. My spatial perception faltered, then failed entirely, refusing to show me anything beyond the threshold of that subterranean complex.

So. A seal.

Some construct designed to block spatial interference and dimensional manipulation. No matter how I probed, I couldn’t sense a thing inside.

It wasn’t the first time I had encountered something capable of suppressing spatial magic. And my magic did not quite follow the same rules as most.

Depending on what the underground layout looked like, I had several options.

For now, though, they did not push me inside.

They stopped at the entrance. The stairs wound downward and vanished into a depth that felt more like an abyss than architecture. Even the escorts behind me wore pale expressions as they stared into it.

So it had a reputation.

I could almost understand why. The space carried a hollow quality, as if sound itself went down there to thin out and die. For a moment, I thought I heard faint breathing rising from below, but when I focused, it dissolved into nothing more than patterned wind.

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

“Are we certain about this?” one of the faerin escorts asked quietly. “Can’t we just keep her aboveground and watch her there? This place still gives me creeps.”

Markus, who had followed us down, answered with an easy smile. “You two don’t need to worry. It won’t be you who has to keep an eye on her.”

Behind him, the invisible woman muttered something that sounded very much like “cowards.”

The faerins visibly relaxed at that reassurance.

“You both are free to leave and join the festivities above. I’ll handle things from here.”

They had never looked happier. The two faerins bowed quickly and retreated at once, their steps brisk as if the place itself might curse them for lingering.

The moment they were gone, Markus’ expression darkened. The invisible woman revealed herself as well.

She wore dark garments and a thin veil framing a beautiful face. Long foxian ears rose from her head, and her lush black hair was tied neatly into a bun. A golden pin secured it in place, and that pin was laced with something unmistakably poisonous. It carried a faintly sweet scent.

It smelled pleasant.

I wondered how it would taste.

“How long are you going to keep up this charade?” she asked evenly.

For half a second, my heart dipped. I thought she was speaking to me.

She wasn’t.

Markus turned toward her.

“I’m only doing what’s necessary. The fewer people who know how many keys we possess, the better.”

From his sleeve, he produced a dark red… leviathan.

It looked eerily similar to the artefact I had “lent” Alexei, except this one bore a pair of black wings. It coiled around Markus’ hand as though alive.

“Greed is a powerful thing,” he continued. “We’re allies on the surface, but we both know this alliance was born from circumstance. We either cooperated or we perished. Now, after a decade, we’re finally close to getting out of here. Don’t you think that might nurture the greed already sitting in their hearts?”

He shrugged lightly. “Think of this as insurance. They don’t need to know I possess the Key of Abyss. Just like Alexei returned with the Key of Fog and chose not to reveal it, even though that icy stench rolls off him in waves.”

“It could simply be a complicated matter,” she replied. “Jumping to suspicion first isn’t always the right approach.”

“Suspicion is how we survive,” Markus said calmly. “Here or outside this prison.”

They were ignoring me for the moment, but I could feel their mana brushing against me, probing lightly. They were waiting for a reaction.

What reaction? I had no idea what they were talking about.

Well. Almost no idea.

That strange aura I had sensed around Markus earlier— the one that had put me on alert— had to be this so-called Key of Abyss. The name alone was reassuring. Entirely non-ominous.

And the artefact I had lent Alexei was another one of these “keys?”

Huh.

Perhaps Alexei had kept quiet because the artefact was technically borrowed, and he didn’t wish to incur the wrath of the very benevolent entity who had entrusted it to him.

Or perhaps not.

I couldn’t be sure.

I added another question to my growing list for Alexei.

They both fell silent for a moment before Markus exhaled.

“This is going nowhere.”

He turned toward me, the dark red miniature leviathan coiling lazily above his palm. “Well? Anything? Don’t you want to take it already? Isn’t this what you were looking for?”

…

What in the actual hell was happening here?

Even the veiled woman shot him a flat look.

More silence stretched between us.

“It went feral last time after seeing one of the Keys,” Markus muttered. “Worth a try.”

“I told you she’s not possessed,” the woman replied calmly. “There’s just a strange absence of mana around her. It’s like she’s a void in my perception. The phantom was anything but subtle.”

Markus stepped closer and waved a hand in front of my face. “Does she know she’s alive?”

“I haven’t seen any reaction from her so far.”

He sighed. “She seems so young.”

His gaze pressed deeper, probing at my core. I felt the almost clinical touch of it, but all he would find was the dull grey core the priestess once had.

“Definitely some messed up things happening in that blasted temple,” he muttered.

“All I know,” the woman continued, “is that she can create pockets devoid of magical energy. That’s what unsettled me at first. I’m not sure what the purpose is.”

“Well, she could still be useful,” Markus said. “That ability might not even be deliberate. Perhaps a strange manifestation of her spatial affinity, never properly trained before being indoctrinated into that cult.”

He bent one knee until we were face to face. “Sorry about the little act. What’s your name?”

I stared at him without answering.

“Right,” he said after a moment. “Well, we here”— he gestured toward the veiled woman in a way that made me feel like a particularly underfed child, which, admittedly, I was— “don’t hate you the way the people above do. They have their reasons. Even if you didn’t personally commit those atrocities, you were affiliated with those who did. Innocent lives were lost on both sides.”

He gestured down the staircase that spiraled into the abyss.

“That place is for hardened criminals. It tortures the minds of those inside with vivid nightmares, visions of things that lurk beyond the veil of our world. It blocks any form of escape. I don’t want you to go in there. But it isn’t my decision alone.”

The miniature leviathan slithered around his wrist as if agreeing.

“With this Key,” he continued, lifting his arm slightly, “I can seal anyone down there. I would know everything that happens inside. Even the smallest movement wouldn’t escape my notice. I don’t want to use it on you, kid. Only if you force my hand.”

He pointed to the artefact with his free hand.

“This is the Key of Abyss. In the temple you were found in, the high priest possessed a similar creature. Emerald in color. I want you to think carefully and tell me— did you see it during the battle?”

He watched me with open anticipation.

The pieces were finally sliding into place. And the irony was almost insulting— I didn’t know anything. I had hijacked this body two days ago with none of her memories. Whatever secrets he hoped to extract had died with the original owner.

Now it made sense why he had cleared the others out. This was an interrogation dressed up as mercy.

In the span of a few seconds, I ran through a dozen possible responses before settling on the simplest one. I slowly shook my head, my expression remaining perfectly stone-faced. Let’s see how far their benevolence stretches.

Markus looked half relieved at my lack of non-reaction, yet faintly disappointed at the answer.

“Well. I suspected as much. Second question, then.” His gaze sharpened slightly. “If you were given power this very instant— enough to flatten this entire structure with both of us inside it— would you do it? Would you kill us?”

I nearly narrowed my eyes.

There was no way he didn’t have some method of detecting lies. From experience, powerful people always carried some trick, some artefact or ability to sniff out deception. And the amusing part was that I already had that kind of power. They just didn’t know it.

For a brainwashed priestess who had just witnessed her cult slaughtered, the answer might easily be yes. Or no, if she attempted to conceal her hatred. Either way, I doubted a lie would pass unnoticed.

So I chose something safer.

“Why?”

He seemed genuinely surprised that I spoke at all.

“Why what?” he asked.

“Why would I do that?” I replied evenly. “You said earlier that you wish to escape this prison. My wish is the same. Killing you, even if I possessed such power, would only hinder that goal. Forgive me, but please refrain from asking foolish questions and get to the point.”

I chose every word carefully. My instincts were certain that any falsehood would be exposed.

He had clearly not expected five full sentences from me, but he seemed satisfied.

“Very well. The final question is more of a pact than a question.” His expression turned serious. “Do you promise to inform me if you begin hearing voices? Voices offering honeyed promises. Telling you that you could become queen of this ‘sacred’ place. That you would gain power— enough to take revenge on your enemies, on those who wronged you. The voice may take any form. The only thing it will never offer is escape.”

He held my gaze. “So. Will you tell me?”

That one was easy. My knowledge here was dangerously incomplete. If such voices began whispering, I would seek someone more informed immediately— whether that was Lotte or, ironically, the man standing before me.

“I shall do as you say,” I answered.

Markus smiled and rose to his feet.

“And one final, final request,” he added lightly. “Promise me you’ll trade that stone-cold expression for a smile.”

“No.”

A short laugh escaped him.

The veiled woman raised a brow in silent inquiry. Markus simply replied, “All true.”

I knew it.

She visibly relaxed. “So not everyone from that temple was completely indoctrinated. She may just be a new recruit. Poor thing.”

Poor thing indeed.

“Well, the creatures celebrating aboveground are anything but rational right now, so we’ll leave her here,” Markus said, then corrected himself, “Not down there, of course.” He gestured toward the stairwell that spiraled into darkness. “But here.” His hand swept toward the cathedral behind me. “Temporarily. And remember your promise. If you hear anything that does not belong to your own thoughts, step onto the first stair leading underground. I will know immediately.”

“For now,” he added, flicking his wrist. A bundle wrapped in white cloth appeared in his hand. It smelled faintly sweet. He placed it in my palms. “Eat. Rest. We’ll return later. You may wander, but do not enter the tunnels. They house some particularly nasty fire-breathing lizards. Tough creatures. Dangerous enough to threaten a yellow core if underestimated.”

With that, he straightened and stretched as though this had all been mildly inconvenient rather than ominous, then walked off toward one of the side tunnels— different from the one we had used to enter.

The woman faded from sight once more. She lingered a few seconds longer, her presence brushing faintly against my senses, before disappearing entirely.

Only when I was certain they were truly gone did I allow myself to acknowledge it.

I was finally, finally alone.

Good.

Several things had clarified themselves. The woman had not pierced my stealth earlier. She was simply sensitive enough that the absence of mana around me drew her attention. It was not my presence she detected, but the void I created. That made her very different from Avena.

Now, however, it was time to work.

I glanced at the object Markus had left me. Inside the cloth rested a crimson fruit shaped vaguely like a melon. I shrugged and bit into it.

It was unexpectedly delicious.

I finished it quickly and wiped my hands.

They had said they would return in a while. This chamber appeared accessible only through the surrounding tunnels. I counted eight entrances. Eight different routes from the city above, yet judging by the atmosphere, few likely chose to come here voluntarily.

Dim light seeped from the walls themselves, a strange bioluminescence giving the stone a faint glow. The place carried a distinctly haunted quality. I half expected a wraith to drift out from behind a pillar at any moment.

As for the lizards Markus had warned about, I could sense clusters of them dormant within hollow pockets along the tunnel we had used earlier.

Convenient.

I summoned my clones and shifted into my half-dragon form. They mirrored me instantly, understanding without words.

Lazy hesitated, as usual. She always did. I promised her two spawns in which she would be permitted to do absolutely nothing— no moving, just existing in blissful uselessness. She brightened at once and her whole posture shifted from "ugh, effort" to "well, that's acceptable."

My half-dragon form stood at eleven feet of golden-scaled perfection. Truly, it was a form meant to be admired. Muscular without being bulky, graceful without being fragile, dangerous without trying. The world deserved to witness it more often. The world was currently missing out, which was the world's problem, not mine.

I unfurled my wings and surged toward the nearest lizard nest. One of the creatures slept peacefully, coiled in its little hollow, dreaming whatever lizards dream about. Probably fire. Probably warm rocks. Definitely not about golden dragons snatching it mid-dream.

I grabbed it.

It woke up confused, which was adorable. Its sputtering flame was pitiful, barely warming the air. Yet its golden scales held something endearing, almost familiar, against my own.

I cast Observer’s Mark and Suggestion on the first lizard and let it go. Then I repeated the same process with thirteen more. By the time I finished, a neat little network of borrowed senses stretched through the tunnels. If anyone entered, I would know.

Maintaining this façade was proving useful, so I decided to keep it intact for now.

Once the clones’ timers expired, I resummoned them properly and dismissed the forms I no longer needed. Then I slipped into the shadow dimension and began moving toward the celebration above.

It was time for Alexei to repay his debt.