Chapter 166: Father And Son
The palace loomed like a crown hammered into the mountain’s skull.
Its towers cut into the clouds, walls alive with runes burning brighter than the rest of the city. Guards lined every stair, armor black as coal, spears pulsing with wards. From the streets below, the palace was untouchable, a fortress carved for kings who thought themselves gods.
Karl walked straight toward it.
No hood now. No cloak pulled low. His face was bare, his grin sharp as the day he left. The crowd noticed. Whispers chased his steps.
"That’s him."
"The abandoned son."
"Thought he was dead."
"No—worse. Cast out."
The words spread like fire through dry brush. Boars turned their tusks, wolves bared their teeth, serpents hissed low. None stepped close. None dared. They knew his name. They knew his story. Thrown away, forgotten, a shame that once bled the palace walls.
Karl relished it. Every stare fed his smirk wider. His claws flexed at his side, fire curling faint around them. The guards stiffened as he climbed the wide steps, their spears lowering in unison.
"Stop there," the captain barked, his aura pushing forward like a wall. "This ground belongs to the King. No castoffs step further."
Karl tilted his head, grin never breaking. "Castoff, huh? Didn’t think you’d still be using my family name."
A ripple moved through the crowd. Murmurs grew louder. Some laughed nervously. Others spat.
The guards tightened their line. The captain’s jaw clenched. "Leave now, or you won’t leave at all."
Karl’s fire flared, licking his claws, glowing bright enough to stain the steps red. "Then I guess I’ll stay."
The guards braced, but before the first spear struck, a deeper voice rolled down the stairwell.
"Let him through."
Every guard froze.
The crowd fell silent.
Karl’s grin twitched wider. He didn’t even have to look up to know who it was.
The Dragon King’s youngest son stepped into view.
Kael.
Golden eyes burned sharp, his cloak flowing behind him like a banner. He looked stronger than Karl remembered—taller, cleaner, still carrying that infuriating calm that came with being the favorite.
The guards parted at once. Kael descended a step, his gaze locked on Karl. For a moment he didn’t speak, only studied him. Then, faintly, his lips curved.
"Still joking with death," he said. "Some things don’t change."
Karl barked a laugh, tapping his claw against his own chest. "And you still sound like father’s little echo. I’d say some things never change either."
The crowd stirred, whispers sharper now, louder. Brother against brother, standing on the palace steps—it was a story too sweet to ignore.
Kael’s smirk faded, his expression cooling. "Why are you here, Karl?"
Karl spread his arms wide, fire trailing his fingertips. "Homecoming. Thought I’d see if father missed me."
"Or maybe," another voice boomed, "you came to die where you should have the first time."
The crowd broke into gasps as the Dragon King appeared.
He filled the stairwell like a storm made flesh. Scales crimson, mane of spines flaring faint, his eyes molten suns burning down on the square. Each step he took cracked the stone, each breath shook the air.
The city bent under his presence.
Even Karl’s grin thinned for a second. Just a second.
The King stopped above them, his gaze falling on Karl like judgment. "You crawl back, abandoned son. Why?"
Karl tilted his head, smirk sharpening again. "Missed the view. Or maybe I just wanted to see if the throne was still too big for you."
The crowd roared, half in outrage, half in disbelief. Guards shifted uneasily, unsure whether to laugh or to strike.
Kael’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t interrupt.
The Dragon King’s molten gaze narrowed. "You wear Gamma like a mantle now. Tell me—how does a cub cast aside break past the chains of XXX rank? How does failure rise where even bloodlines stronger than yours fall?"
The square stilled. The question hung heavy.
Karl only chuckled. He raised his claw, flames curling around it like hungry mouths. "I tripped and fell into power, obviously. Happens all the time. You should try it, old man—maybe you’d finally smile."
Some in the crowd barked laughter before they realized what they’d done. Fear snapped their mouths shut.
The King’s eyes burned hotter, but his expression didn’t change. "You joke, as always. That tongue will be the death of you."
"Better the tongue than the silence," Karl shot back, fire spilling brighter from his claws. He leaned forward, his grin widening, daring. "So tell me, father—do you think I’m your dragon? The one burning your kingdoms? That what keeps you awake at night?"
The crowd erupted again. Rumors already thick in the city now had flesh standing before them.
Kael’s gaze snapped to Karl, golden eyes sharp. "Are you?"
Karl barked another laugh, shaking his head. "If I was, little brother, you’d already be roasted on a spit." He snapped his claws together, flame bursting in a sharp crack that made the guards flinch. "Nah. I’m not your phantom. But it’s funny that you’d think I could be."
The Dragon King’s chest rumbled, smoke curling from his nostrils. "You are not strong enough to be that shadow. But you are strong enough to be a nuisance."
Karl shrugged. "I’ll take that as a compliment."
Kael stepped forward, his aura flaring, the golden glow pressing heavy against Karl’s fire. "This isn’t a game. You stand in the heart of the capital, mocking our blood, mocking our father. You will not walk away this time."
Karl smirked, leaning into the pressure, his own flames climbing higher. "Oh, but you’ve always loved trying to make me stay, haven’t you? Funny thing about me—I hate leashes."
The crowd roared again, the square splitting between those who spat at Karl’s defiance and those who watched with wide, fearful eyes. Guards braced, claws and tusks ready, waiting for the word.
The Dragon King lifted his claw, silencing them with a single gesture. His eyes stayed locked on Karl.
"You are not the dragon I seek. But you will bleed for daring to wear his shadow."
Karl’s grin sharpened into something vicious. He spread his arms wide, fire twisting into a storm around him, the heat cracking the steps beneath his boots.
"Finally," he said, voice dripping with amusement. "Been waiting for the family reunion to get interesting."
Kael’s golden aura flared, the King’s molten gaze burned brighter, and the crowd leaned forward, breath caught between awe and terror.
The palace square had become a stage.
And Karl, the abandoned son, was ready to burn it.