Silas didn’t move for a long second.He stood in the middle of his own room like the air had turned into chains around his neck. His eyes kept jumping from the broken men on the floor to Evans’s face, like he was trying to find a version of this that made sense.“This… this is impossible,” Silas whispered.Evans didn’t step closer. He didn’t need to. The pressure in the room was still there, heavy enough to make even breathing feel like work.Mr Patrick’s cane tapped once as he walked toward the table. “It’s not impossible,” Patrick said. “It’s just the first time you’ve met someone you can’t buy.”Silas swallowed hard. His lips trembled, and it angered him that they trembled. He tried to straighten his shoulders like a king again, but the act fell apart halfway.“Evans,” Patrick said quietly, “stand down.”Evans’s jaw tightened. “He tried to kill you,” he said, voice low.“I know,” Patrick replied. “But business first.”Silas heard that and grabbed onto it like a drowning man grabb

Evans woke up with his jaw already tight.Three days had passed since Silas Blackridge was killed by Mr Patrick in his own house, and three days had also passed since Evans caused great chaos at the underground side of Drakarion, yet the city still felt like it had blood on its breath. Rumors moved faster than cars. People were saying an unusual Dragon Force had walked through bullets and fear like they were nothing. Evans knew the story would grow, and with it, the hunt, especially with his presence at the underground where he totally man handled those men with the Oraco and Branth dragon force.It had been an hour ever since they drove out of the hotel where they lodged.Patrick waited by the curb with the engine running, suit neat, cane resting against his knee. The street was quiet, but it was the kind of quiet that meant eyes were hiding behind curtains. Evans slid into the passenger seat and kept his cap low.Patrick didn’t ask if he slept well. He didn’t do softness when tim

The line barely moved.Patrick eased the car forward a few meters, then stopped again. Engines idled all around them, a low restless growl that mixed with the morning wind. Evans leaned forward slightly, eyes fixed ahead, taking everything in.“This is wrong,” Evans said quietly.Patrick didn’t answer at first. He slowed the car even more, letting the gap close inch by inch. “Borders stop people,” he said finally. “This one is designed to break them.”Evans saw it clearly now. The flags were not Drakarion’s colors. They were dark red and iron gray, marked with a jagged sigil that looked like a beast’s claw tearing through a circle. The soldiers beneath them wore heavy armor patched with leather and bone. Their faces were hard, some scarred, some smiling for no reason at all.“They stand inside our land like owners,” Evans said.Patrick’s jaw tightened. “They do not ask,” he replied. “They take.”A shout broke out ahead. One of the Aureldrake soldiers slammed his palm on a truck hood

Evans’s jaw tightened. Heat crawled up his neck and under his collar. The edges of his shirt darkened, then crisped, like the fabric was tired of pretending it belonged on him.“I’m not with a unit,” Evans replied. “I’m just a man leaving Drakarion.”The captain spat. “Then leave!” he snapped. “Now that you have the chance, or you will pay!”Evans took one slow step forward.The ground didn’t shake, but the air did. It was like pressure had weight now, like the morning itself was being pressed down by something older and angrier than men.“On your knees,” Evans said.The captain laughed once. “Try it.”The captain’s grin twisted as heat flared around him. His spine arched, veins standing out as a thin, crude aura snapped into place. Bones shifted with sharp cracks. His eyes burned orange, pupils thinning. Oraco. Small horns pushed through his hairline, uneven and ugly, like they had been forced out instead of earned.“See?” the captain snarled. “You’re not the only one who is specia

The first sound the Aureldrake elite heard was not gunfire or chaos as they had expected.It was absolute silence.A heavy convoy rolled into the second border like a moving wall. Armored trucks led the line, followed by troop carriers, a medical van, and a command vehicle with steel plates over the windows. Their engines were loud and steady, as if the road itself had to make room for them.Aureldrake soldiers on the back of the carriers held rifles across their chests. Their helmets were darker than the regular troops. Their armor was cleaner too, stamped with the claw sigil in raised iron.Captain Soren Kade jumped down first and signaled with two fingers. “Spread out,” he ordered. “Two lines. Secure the toll lane and the brush.”“Yes, Captain!” several voices answered at once.They moved fast, boots crunching over broken parts of the checkpoint. The smell hit them next. Smoke. Blood. Oil from engines that had been shot or smashed. The air was still, but it carried the taste of