Chapter 31: Forged in Fire The clearing at the base of the Forbidden Mountains was bathed in the golden light of early morning. The air pulsed with electricity, a blend of old power and the sheer presence of Draco Maximus. The dragon’s huge body loomed over Raiden, his golden eyes glinting with both approval and challenge. “You’re improving,” Draco muttered, his voice a deep resonance that vibrated through the ground. “But ‘improving’ won’t be enough. If you face Morgana or Giovanni unprepared, you’ll fall. And I don’t carry weaklings.” Raiden smirked softly, his palm tightening around the hilt of his blade. “Then it’s a good thing I’m not weak.” Draco snorted, expelling a puff of smoke. “Prove it.” Without unexpectedly, the dragon’s tail lashed at Raiden, a swirl of obsidian scales cutting through the air. Raiden barely had time to react, his augmented sword gleaming slightly as he raised it to parry the hit. The hit sent a tremor through his arms, driving him back seve

Chapter 33: The Duel of Shadows The great courtyard of the Elthorn mansion was alive with anxiety. The event had collected most of the clan’s influential members, all gathered beneath the wide banners of their house. The crisp morning air carried murmurs of intrigue as Raiden moved through the gathering, his strides smooth and methodical. Clad in his traveling cloak, his sword sheathed at his side, he felt every eye on him. Raiden’s participation at the clan assembly had not been announced—it was a calculated risk. He needed to reveal himself, to let the clan realize he wasn’t the rogue Morgana painted him to be. Yet, when he studied the faces of the assembled, his instincts remained sharp. He could feel the undertone of discomfort, the whispers of doubt that persisted after his warnings to the council. “Raiden!” The voice pierced through the talk like a dagger, harsh and filled with hatred. Raiden turned slowly, his gaze resting on Lucan. The Elthorn lieutenant stood at t

Chapter 35: Purpose Reforged The fire blazed softly in the silence of the night, its golden light casting flickering shadows against the steep walls of the mountain pass. Raiden sat near the fire, the Magus’s scroll spread open on his lap. The lines engraved on the ancient paper echoed continuously in his thoughts, each line a weight weighing down on him. His reincarnation was no accident. It wasn’t a twist of fate, a modest chance for vengeance against Morgana. It was deliberate—a plan ages in the making. The Magus had seen the upheaval coming, the breaking of the balance, and had placed his hopes, his power, in Raiden. “You’ve been staring at that thing for hours,” Draco Maximus rumbled from nearby, his golden eyes sparkling in the firelight. The dragon’s huge body was coiled protectively, but his gaze was piercing, observing Raiden with a mix of wonder and concern. Raiden didn’t glance up. “It’s a lot to take in.” Draco snorted gently, a jet of smoke spiraling into the

Chapter 37: A Pyrrhic Triumph The morning following the war dawned with the faint scent of ash still lingering in the air. The once-proud courtyard of the Elthorn estate was now a landscape of debris and burnt earth. Shattered stone walls and the shards of shattered weaponry were scattered, clear reminders of the destruction unleashed by Morgana’s dark beast. Raiden stood at the middle of the wreckage, his glowing sword planted in the earth beside him. His limbs hurt from the combat, his thoughts still racing with the echoes of the beast’s cry. But his resolve remained unshaken. Around him, the wounded were cared to by clan healers, their movements quick and tense. Draco Maximus sat nearby, his golden eyes inspecting the rubble. The dragon’s huge body cast lengthy shadows over the courtyard, his presence both reassuring and imposing. “They’re afraid of you,” Draco muttered, his voice low enough that only Raiden could hear. “They’re afraid of us,” Raiden clarified, his gaze

Chapter 39: The Foundation of Defiance The sun hung low in the sky, giving a warm amber glow over the plateau. The impromptu camp pulsed with activity, a patchwork of tents and smoking flames dotting the clearing. Raiden marched through the camp with Draco Maximus at his side, the dragon’s enormous shadow spanning far and wide. Despite the lingering tension of strangers joined under one cause, there was an evident undercurrent of hope. “Every great movement starts with a foundation,” Draco murmured, his golden gaze surveying the camp. “You’ve gathered the lost and the broken. Now comes the hard part—turning them into a force.” Raiden nodded, his gaze fixed ahead. “They have potential. They only need a reason to fight, something to believe in beyond their anger.” “And they look to you for that reason,” Draco continued, his voice stern. “Don’t falter.” “I won’t,” Raiden responded, his voice firm, though he could feel the weight of the dragon’s words weighing down on him. R