The dawn after Jael's awakening did not bring peace. Instead, it brought visitors.
From every corner of the Draco Orbis, emissaries of the great dragon clans arrived at the Flame Clan compound. Their robes shimmered with clan colors, their auras heavy with Skylimit Realm power. Each diplomat carried the weight of their bloodline, and though they spoke politely, suspicion burned beneath their words.
The roar that had shaken the heavens the night before had not gone unnoticed. The eruption of a dragon king's aura was not something that could be hidden from the senses of peak cultivators. They had all felt it—an overwhelming pressure that made even their ancient bloodlines tremble. None knew its exact source, but all suspected. The epicenter had been near the Flame Clan's territory.
The Flame Clan's great hall filled with tension as Patriarch Ricard welcomed them. His presence was vast, his aura carefully restrained, and his expression calm. He gestured for the diplomats to sit, and they did, though their eyes flickered with curiosity and veiled challenge.
There was an exchange of greetings and flattery, the polite dance of clans masking suspicion. But the weight in the air was undeniable, and soon the courtesies gave way.
"Patriarch Ricard, enough courtesies," spoke the envoy of the Azure Scale Clan, his voice smooth but edged. "Last night the heavens shook. A bloodline unlike any we have felt in a hundred thousand years awakened. Surely you sensed it."
Ricard inclined his head. "Indeed. The tremor was felt throughout our territory. But as to its origin, I cannot say. We are as puzzled as you."
The envoy of the Crimson Fang Clan leaned forward, his eyes narrowing. "The pulse came from this region. Do not tell me the Flame Clan knows nothing. Is the dragon king bloodline here at the Flame Clan?"
Ricard's smile was faint, unreadable. "We know only what you know—that something ancient has stirred. Whether it lies within our lands or beyond, I cannot confirm. The world is vast, and bloodlines are mysterious. Perhaps it was a wandering dragon passing through. Perhaps the heavens themselves stirred without cause. We can only speculate."
The envoy of the Obsidian Talon Clan let out a low chuckle, though his eyes gleamed with suspicion. "Speculation, Patriarch? Then let me offer one. We believe the dragon king bloodline is here, within your Flame Clan. More precisely—we suspect it belongs to that new disciple of yours, the one who won the Reglan Tournament over a decade ago."
Ricard's smile did not falter. "If that were the case, the truth would have revealed itself long ago."
The Obsidian envoy leaned forward, his tone sharp. "Then present the boy before us, Patriarch, and let us judge for ourselves."
"Do you think I would lie about something this immense?" Ricard asked.
The envoy of the Silvercrest Clan spoke with measured calm, his aura steady rather than oppressive. "Patriarch Ricard, let us not mistake our purpose. We are not here to accuse but to seek clarity. The tremor we all felt was undeniable, and naturally suspicion rises. Our purpose is simple—to discern whether the Verus Rex Sanguine has truly awakened."
Ricard inclined his head once more, his tone calm but firm. "Is that so? Because to me this feels less like inquiry and more like interrogation, as if my Flame Clan is guilty of something we do not understand."
A heavy silence followed. Uneasy tension stretched between them, each envoy measuring Ricard's restraint and finding no weakness.
At last, the Azure Scale envoy rose. "Very well, Patriarch. If you say the Verus Rex Sanguine is not here, we will take you at your word and continue our search elsewhere. But know this—if the dragon king bloodline has truly awakened, it will not remain hidden for long. The Shadow Dragon race are already on the move. Like us, they suspect your Flame Clan."
With that, they bid Ricard farewell and vanished like phantoms from the hall. Suspicion lingered in their eyes, but Ricard's calm denial had left them with no proof, no leverage.
When the hall was empty, Ricard exhaled slowly, his gaze hardening.
____
Meanwhile, within the Flame Clan's inner compound, Jael sat cross‑legged in his quarters. His robe lay discarded, his chest bare, breath slow and steady. His eyes were closed, his body still, as he sank into meditation.
The door opened. Elijah stepped inside, his presence filling the room. Jael's eyes snapped open.
"Master," he greeted, bowing his head.
Elijah raised a hand. "Remain seated."
Jael obeyed, though his gaze was troubled. "Were all those visitors earlier here because of me?"
Elijah nodded.
Jael's voice was low, uncertain. "Master… what exactly is the dragon maw technique? What did it do to me exactly? I don't know how to explain it, but there is a massive change within me. This overwhelming power—it feels like I was born to dominate."
Elijah's eyes narrowed. He sealed the room with a flick of his hand, layers of formation locking into place to block sound. Only then did he speak.
"I do not know your origin precisely, Jael. But I can say with certainty—you possess the bloodline of a true dragon king."
Jael's breath caught. "Dragon king…?"
Elijah's gaze was solemn. "It means you are of a bloodline that is the origin of all dragons. King of all dragonkind. We believed the origin bloodline had been eradicated, lost to history. But here you are."
Jael's fists clenched. "Can this bloodline help me protect my father and family?"
Elijah nodded. "And even greater things."
Jael's eyes lit with determination. "That's great."
"Yes," Elijah said softly. "It is. But understand this—while you are still weak, no one outside the clan or below elder status in the clan can know. Some will accept you. Others will seek to manipulate you. And some will try to kill you."
Jael frowned. "Is that why I can't—"
"You definitely cannot," Elijah interrupted firmly. "That is how special your bloodline is. I cannot allow it to be tainted."
Jael hesitated, then muttered, "Well… isn't it too late? I'm already not pure. I've lost count of how many women I've been with."
Elijah's palm smacked the back of his head. "Don't say that so proudly."
Jael rubbed his skull, grinning sheepishly. "What I'm trying to say, Master, is… I'm not pure."
Elijah sighed. "Fornicating like a lustful being was not an issue before you awakened your bloodline. But now, things are different."
Jael blinked. "Different? How so?"
Elijah's tone grew grave. "Because any woman you sleep with from now on will become your soulmate. You will become one body with her. Once you consummate a union, you will be tied to that person for life. You will be unable to go to another unless she breaks the union sexually or dies. Such is the law within your bloodline."
Jael's jaw dropped. "What? But I'm not ready for that kind of commitment!"
"You won't be able to sleep around anymore, young Jael."
"Ah man…" Jael groaned, slumping. "So I need to choose my wife carefully, make sure it's someone I'm totally in love with… because once I do, I'm stuck for life?"
Elijah smirked faintly. "Exactly."
"That sucks," Jael muttered. "I don't want it. Take it back."
"You damned lustful brat!" Elijah swung his hand again, but Jael dodged this time.
"Alright, I guess I won't be able to indulge in carnal pleasure any time soon," Jael sighed.
"You can," Elijah corrected, "but that person will be your wife for life. And you wont be able to get it up for another woman."
Jael narrowed his eyes. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"
"It would be a lie if I said I wasn't."
Jael took a deep breath, frustration boiling. "This king bloodline really is a drag. How will I satisfy my needs then? It's been fifteen years of pent‑up frustration."
"You're a dragon cultivator," Elijah said sharply. "You can control it."
"What if I don't want to?" Jael shot back.
"Stop complaining." Elijah smacked him again, swift and precise.
Jael yelped. "Aren't I a dragon king? Why are you hitting me?"
"You might be," Elijah said coldly, "but you're still a snot‑nosed brat. I'll treat you as one until you grow into your title."
Jael's expression shifted, his tone suddenly serious. "Master… will the Flame Clan be in trouble because of me?"
Elijah's gaze softened. "Don't worry. No harm will come to our clan—or to you."
Jael nodded, though worry lingered in his eyes.
"Alright, I'll leave you to rest. Tomorrow we continue your training." Elijah patted the boy's shoulder and left.
As the door shut behind him, a pang of guilt stirred. He felt the weight of deceiving the boy. Though the union of man and woman was sacred — a blessing from God — Jael coupling with someone would not bind him as Elijah had claimed. Still, if the white lie kept the boy from wandering at night, then it would serve.