The Dragon King, now fully aware of the gravity of his situation, felt his hostility melt away, replaced by a chilling fear that paralyzed him. If the man meditating before him truly wielded divine power, there could be no mistaking his identity.
The God of Death.
Legend spoke of Raiking as an unyielding force of devastation, leaving nothing but ruin in his wake.
If I still draw breath, then he must not intend to obliterate us, the Dragon King pondered, a tense yet carefully calculated grin slowly forming on his scaled face.
For a ruler who had dominated for centuries, this encounter was nothing short of extraordinary—an audience with a genuine deity. Eager to turn this unexpected meeting to his political advantage while masking his fear behind a facade of royal dignity, the Dragon King cautiously approached the meditating figure who currently held his entire kingdom in awe.
Sensing no immediate danger from the God of Death, the King quickened his pace slightly, stopping at a respectful distance from Raiking.
With a subtle flick of his wrist, the Dragon King manipulated the dust in the air, conjuring a small, floating stone table intricately carved from celestial rock, complete with a meticulously crafted board and pieces.
"Would you care for a game of chess?"
Raiking slowly opened his void-black eyes. "If you had shown such restraint with the Ancestral Phoenix, you might not find yourself in this humbled state."
The Dragon King had always thought he understood the intricacies of his clan's history, especially his connection to Raiking and the enigmatic Phoenix Queen. Yet, as the pieces on the stone board clashed, he realized the depths of Raiking's knowledge exceeded his expectations.
Despite this unsettling revelation, the Dragon King kept his cool, his scaled face betraying nothing. Instead, he offered a sly grin, shifting his first piece into play. "Time grants many things," he mused, "but immunity to regret isn't one of them."
Raiking moved his piece with ease, a hint of challenge in his eyes. "Oh? Would your choices have differed back then?"
"If I'd foreseen my adversary rising as the God of Death? Without a doubt. When faced with inevitable destruction, changing course becomes the only sensible choice, don't you think?"
"Regret, only when faced with consequences," Raiking replied icily. "Is that true regret?"
"We mortals aren't at the apex of power, God of Death," the Dragon King countered, positioning another piece to guard his flank. "Reacting is all the weak can do."
Raiking paused, calculating his next move for maximum impact. "Do you know how many worlds I've annihilated?"
The Dragon King was momentarily stunned, his focus on the board wavering as he met Raiking's infinite gaze.
"Thousands," Raiking answered his own query, his voice a chilling void. "Every time Evil battled Justice, it shifted blame, just as you do—a failure of foresight. Excuses multiply until even the righteous question what truly is right or wrong."
In that moment, the Dragon King grasped a terrifying truth:
The God of Death operated beyond mortal morality.
No reasoning could sway his empathy.
No second chances were offered.
No bargaining could absolve guilt.
The moment the Phoenix Tribe was exiled, my fate was sealed in his eyes. Regardless of my actions or words now, judgment has already been rendered.
"What are you planning to do with me?" the Dragon King inquired, his voice a low rumble.
"Nothing," Raiking replied, his expression unreadable.
The Dragon King was prepared to dispute this seemingly ridiculous statement, but then he recalled Raiking's chilling words from before:
'If you weren't meant to face her, you'd be long gone, never having laid eyes on her.'
"What is your connection to the Phoenix Queen?" the monarch pressed on.
"She's my disciple," Raiking answered simply.
Of course, the Dragon King thought, as a significant piece of the puzzle clicked into place. That explains how someone cast out could reach the exalted True Divinity stage so swiftly.
"Is she driven by vengeance?" he asked, his curiosity piqued.
"Wouldn't you be?" Raiking's voice was barely above a whisper, yet it carried weight.
Though left unsaid, the Dragon King felt an understanding deep within his ancient soul. Had his own dragon clan endured such a fate, he too would have chased vengeance relentlessly.
"So it ends with either her downfall or mine," the Dragon King declared, his claws tightening around a knight. "But that isn't the real question. The real question is: if she falls by my hand, will you feel guilt? Will you, like us mere mortals, thirst for revenge?"
"I won't chase after revenge," Raiking declared.
"And why should I trust that?" came the skeptical reply.
"Because she will not fail," he answered with unshakeable confidence.
Those words sent a shiver racing down the Dragon King's spine, one he couldn't quite rationalize but felt deep in his core. The God of Death's conviction wasn't the standard pride a mentor often displayed towards their disciple. No, this was something far more intimidating—it was an unyielding certainty.
Curious to unveil whether Raiking's judgments were tinted by favoritism toward his protégée, the Dragon King pressed further. "If you claim your actions rise above mortal concepts of right and wrong, then let me pose a question."
"Go on."
"In past conflicts, who was truly at fault? Was it me, or was it the Ancestral Phoenix?"
"As a woman, she was entitled to seek love in whatever way she saw fit."
Even gods can be tainted by bias, the Dragon King mused with a sly grin.
"But," Raiking continued, "as a Queen, her loyalty should have been directed towards her people, not her desires. By breaking the sacred marriage contract, she didn't just ignite a political rift between your two clans. She shattered the trust and hopes of her subjects, forsaking her duty to maintain a stable and prosperous realm for them."
"Then—"
The Dragon King was about to speak, but Raiking halted him with just a subtle lift of his hand.
"I already know what you're going to say. But before you continue, tell me—did you handle that betrayal like a true king or just a jealous man?"
The Dragon King was silent, his lack of response revealing more than words ever could.
"We both know the truth," Raiking pressed on, his voice unyielding. "You had every right, politically, to demand compensation. Yet that's not the route you chose, is it?"
Still, the Dragon King said nothing.
He couldn't escape the harsh truth. His actions weren't just about rebuking the Ancestral Queen; he had banished the innocent Phoenix Kin. Even worse, he had leaked the secrets of the Phoenix Pearl to humankind, leading to a massacre of thousands, all to soothe his wounded ego.
"And unlike you," Raiking continued, relentless in his pursuit, "the Ancestral Queen understood the gravity of her errors. She gave up her immortality, seeking Nirvana as a form of penance. At that moment, a path to your own redemption appeared."
"Explain."
"Before I do, look around. Your kingdom, your legacy, your people—all exist purely at my will. Tell me, King, how does that make you feel?"
The Dragon King slowly turned his gaze. He looked at the colossal, impossible walls of the divided sea that loomed menacingly over his capital. Not only could he see them, but millions of innocent lives across the Skyward Region were also likely staring up at those watery tombs right now, frozen by an all-consuming fear.
It was the exact fear the Phoenix Kin must have felt when he exiled them centuries ago.
"Regret," the Dragon King admitted, his voice a mere whisper.
"Finally, you're starting to think like a true King," Raiking observed, his voice a blend of approval and challenge. "In days gone by, redemption was within your grasp. With the Ancestral Queen out of the picture, a new Queen could have been appointed to uphold the marriage alliance and restore balance. Yet, you turned your back on your royal duties. You let your fragile pride drag you into this abyss of powerlessness."
"..."
"So, I pose one last question to you, King," Raiking murmured, the air around them dropping to an icy chill. "Should I now behave as a God... or as a man?"
The Dragon King weighed Raiking's words with care. On the surface, it seemed a straightforward inquiry: Should the God of Death sink to the level of petty revenge, mirroring my own misguided vendettas against the Skyward Region? Or should he rise above, acting as a true God—detached and impartial—allowing karma to weave its own tapestry?
But the more the Demigod pondered the question, the more he perceived its deep significance. This was particularly evident when he considered the exact phrasing of their entire dialogue.
Throughout their exchange, the God of Death had consistently differentiated between 'King' and 'Queen' and between 'man' and 'woman.' The royal titles implied a steadfast duty to their people, while the individuals beneath the crowns were inherently flawed, driven by envy, love, and emotional chaos.
This isn't just about right or wrong, the Dragon King realized, his reptilian eyes widening as understanding dawned. This is about who wields the power to shape the destiny of life itself. Is it mortal morality or the unyielding hand of Divinity?
Although this realization was enlightening, it remained theoretical. To uncover a clear answer, one had to embark on the journey personally.
"Throughout your endless existence, have you ever encountered a truly noble ruler, a King or Queen of genuine virtue?"
"None whatsoever."
"Not even your own disciple?" the Dragon King pressed further.
Raiking remained unfazed, his gaze steady. "If she believed differently, we wouldn't be standing here now," he replied with calm certainty.
"So, does that mean mortals are unfit to rule?" the Dragon King mused aloud.
Raiking didn't answer right away. Instead, he posed his own question, "What is the single most crucial element for ruling?"
"Authority," the Dragon King responded without hesitation.
"Then ponder this, King," Raiking said, his eyes as dark and unfathomable as the vast, looming ocean walls behind him, which trembled with an ominous energy. "Right now... who truly holds the authority, you or I?"