Blood of the War Dragon

Chapter 10: The Weight of Presence

Ardyn Draven gave a sharp snort, though only in his heart.

He understood perfectly well what the three patriarchs were hinting at.

Stay out of it? Was it really that easy to stay out of it?

.

He didn’t bother with more empty words. A few polite gestures, and then he turned on his heel, leaving with Kael Draven and the rest of the family.

“Aria, where are you going?” Halvor Stormveil called after his granddaughter when he saw her slip away.

“Grandfather, I’m going to find Kael Draven.”

Find Kael Draven?

For just a moment, the old man wondered if he’d made a mistake. He had given away his most gifted granddaughter to a cripple. Was that wise… or was it a lifetime regret?

“Kael,” Ardyn Draven said quietly, “whether you like Aria or not, she is your fiancée. She’s a good child. Treat her well.”

“I understand, Grandfather.”

Kael Draven knew exactly what his grandfather was trying to say. He could feel the mocking stares around him, sharp as knives. He slowed his pace, shoulders heavy under the weight of it. The Draven family disappeared from sight, and only then did Aria Stormveil rush to catch up.

“Kael Draven, I need to tell you something.”

He turned. She stood before him—no great beauty, no dazzling looks, just kindness and sincerity in her eyes. For a moment, he hesitated. Every man dreams of beauty. But was that really what mattered most?

It was the first time he had ever asked himself that question.

In the past ten years, only three people had stood by him: his parents and this woman. Who else in the world had given him that kind of loyalty?

“Kael Draven,” she said softly, “I heard you condensed your inner strength. I knew it. Ten years later, the peerless genius of Emberfall Town is finally back. You didn’t let me down.”

Her words struck straight into his chest. He stayed silent, but warmth spread through him.

Ten years. And she was the only one who had ever said such words. The only one who had never once stopped believing.

From her sleeve, she pulled out a slim notebook, only a few pages thick.

“I know you haven't been doing well in the Draven family and haven't been able to obtain any powerful martial techniques. But don't worry. Last night, when I heard the news, I stayed up to copy the Great Compassion Hand for you.”

Before she could even finish, Kael Draven dragged her into his arms.

He wasn’t that tall, but he held her as though he’d never let go. She froze, stunned, then melted into the embrace. After so many years of silent affection, being held like this felt like happiness itself.

“Look at that! Kael Draven, the cripple, hugging the Domineering Maiden!”

“What’s the big deal? They’re engaged.”

“You don’t get it. He’s been a cripple all these years, bullied nonstop. That’s why he begged his father to tie him to her. Shameless fool—bah.”

The disciples from the rival families hadn’t gone far. They stopped when they saw the scene, smirking and sneering, voices dripping with scorn.

“Don’t listen to them,” Aria Stormveil whispered. “I believe in you. One day, you’ll prove to everyone that you’re not a cripple—you’re the strongest.”

Kael Draven gripped her hand tightly. Their mockery slid off him like rain on stone. Ten years of ridicule had forged him harder than steel. Together, hand in hand, they walked on until the whispers faded into nothing.

That was when Kael Draven finally understood. Beauty wasn’t what mattered most. It was the heart.

What good was a goddess’s face if she was venomous inside? Aria Stormveil wasn’t beautiful by anyone’s measure, but she had stood by him, believed in him, given him everything she could. What more could he want?

That night, the courtyard was still beneath a sky scattered with stars. Kael Draven sat cross-legged, calmly absorbing the refined energy Eldric had prepared.

But compared to the hunger of the Desolate Sacred Body, it was barely a drop in an endless ocean.

“Eldric,” Kael Draven asked in his mind, “if I absorb an Innate Beast Core directly, will anything happen?”

“For others, yes,” came Eldric’s calm reply. “The backlash would cripple them. But not you, Master.”

Kael Draven’s heart gave a leap.

“With your Desolate Sacred Body, you can ignore a Beast Core’s backlash. But if you take it raw, the energy you absorb will be limited. Better to let me refine it for you.”

“Fine. Do it.”

He handed over the core to Eldric and immediately began cycling through the Great Compassion Hand, Swift Wind Step, and Heart-Locking Palm.

.

He couldn’t afford to waste time. If he had mastered even two of those techniques earlier, he wouldn’t have been forced to retreat so badly. He needed them now—needed to fuse them with his current realm and push his strength to its true peak.

“Are you Kael Draven?”

The voice cut through the night like a blade.

His eyes flew open. A figure stood in the courtyard, silent as a ghost.

Startled, he leaped to his feet. The intruder was a young man, maybe twenty-four, twenty-five. His face was pale, his features sharp and almost feminine.

“Yes, I’m Kael Draven. Who are you?”

He tried to sound calm, but a chill ran down his spine. The aura rolling off this stranger was suffocating. Even his grandfather couldn’t compare. Could he be… an Innate martial artist?

Ardyn Draven had only reached the peak of the Tenth Layer of Inner Strength. This man’s strength was on an entirely different level.

“My name is Lucian Draven,” the stranger said coolly. “From the Draven family of Thundercloud City.”

Thundercloud City… the Sixth-Level Draven Family.

Kael Draven’s heart sank. It was clear why he had come: the Innate Beast Core.

“So you’ve heard of us. Good. I was told you were there when the beast died. Answer me. Did you take the Beast Core? Hand it over now, and I’ll let this go.”

Exactly as he had feared.

“Sorry,” Kael Draven said flatly. “I’ve seen no Beast Core. I’ve said it already—believe me or don’t. That’s up to you.”

“Good. Very good. But the choice of whether to believe doesn’t belong to you.”

The man’s aura exploded outward. It crashed down on Kael Draven like a tidal wave, crushing the air from his lungs.

“What are you doing?” he ground out through clenched teeth.

“Nothing. Just testing if you’re lying.”

Crack.

His knees slammed against the stone floor, bloodshot eyes straining under the pressure. His hands dug into the ground, holding him up. His face turned pale, but still he refused to yield.

“Strong will,” Lucian Draven muttered. “But weak strength. You weren’t lying.”

The pressure vanished as quickly as it had come. Lucian turned to leave.

But before he could take more than two steps, Kael Draven pushed himself upright, swaying, eyes blazing like fire.

“You’re just going to walk away… like that?”