Soul of the Dragon Emperor Reincarnated to destroy

THE GHOST OF TWENTY YEARS

James's father carried him through Dragon Nation's backstreets, away from the arena, away from the crowd's cheers for Tega's brutality. Each step jolted broken ribs. James bit his tongue to keep from screaming.

They reached home. His father laid him on the bed as gently as possible. Blood soaked through the sheets immediately.

"Stay awake," his father said, but his voice shook. He didn't believe his own words.

James tried to speak. Blood filled his mouth instead.

His father ran. James heard him pounding on neighbors' doors, begging for help. No one answered. Of course they didn't. Helping a man who'd challenged Lucas's son was suicide.

James stared at the ceiling. His vision was narrowing, edges going dark. Lungs wouldn't fill properly. Something sharp ground in his chest with each breath.

This was dying. It felt lonely.

The door burst open. His father dragged in Old Wei, the weapon seller.

"I don't heal people," Wei said.

"Please."

Wei looked at James. Her good eye saw everything. "He's already dead. His spirit just hasn't figured it out yet."

His father's face crumpled. "There must be something."

"There isn't." Wei touched James's wrist, checking for a pulse that was barely there. "I'm sorry. Prepare for burial."

She left. His father sat beside the bed and took James's hand. "I should've stopped you. Should've tied you up, dragged you to the border. You were always too stubborn. Just like your mother."

James wanted to say he was sorry. That he'd tried. That at least he'd tried.

Nothing came out but blood.

Hours passed. Or maybe minutes. Time stopped meaning anything. James felt himself slipping away, bit by bit. His father's hand was the only solid thing left in the world.

Then something changed.

Heat. Starting in his chest, spreading outward. Not painful. Warm. Like being wrapped in sunlight.

His father noticed. "James?"

The heat intensified. James's vision cleared. His lungs filled. The pain didn't vanish but it became distant, like it was happening to someone else.

His father stood, backing away. "What's happening?"

James didn't know. The warmth concentrated in his chest, pulsing in rhythm with his heartbeat. No, not his heartbeat. Something else. Something that had been sleeping inside him his entire life.

Memories flooded in. Not his memories.

A mountain summit. Two people he trusted standing behind him with drawn blades. Pain as steel pierced his back. The sensation of falling, watching the sky recede, knowing he was dead but refusing to accept it. A final thought before impact:

I will not forgive this. I will return.

James gasped. The memories weren't his but they felt more real than his own life. He saw Lucas, twenty years younger, pulling a dagger from someone's back. Saw Vivian pushing the body off the cliff. Saw them laughing as they divided up their victim's possessions.

His father had backed against the wall. "Your eyes. James, your eyes are glowing."

The warmth reached critical mass. James felt something inside him shatter and remake itself. Power flooded through channels in his body he'd never known existed. His broken bones knitted together. His ruptured organs sealed. The pain evaporated like morning mist.

He sat up.

His father made a choking sound. "You were dying. You were—"

"I know." James's voice sounded wrong. Deeper. Older. He looked at his hands and saw golden light flickering beneath his skin. "Something's happened. I don't understand it, but something's happened."

The door slammed open. Emily stood there, dress torn, face bruised, eyes wild.

"James?" She stared. "They said you were dead. I broke away from the guards. I had to see. I had to—" She saw him sitting up. "You're alive."

"I think so."

"How?"

He didn't have an answer. The memories were still flooding in. A lifetime of them. Training sessions. Battles. Friends long dead. A woman he'd loved. Children he'd raised. And the betrayal. Always the betrayal, playing over and over.

Davis. That was the name attached to these memories. Davis, the last Dragon Heir's protector. Davis, who'd been murdered by Lucas and Vivian.

Davis, whose soul had been sleeping in James's bloodline, waiting.

"I need to go back," James said.

"Where?" his father asked.

"The arena. Where they killed me."

"James, Tega's still there. He's celebrating with his father."

"Good."

James stood. His body felt different. Lighter. Stronger. He looked at Emily, really looked at her. Bruises on her throat. Tear tracks on her cheeks. Rage ignited in his chest, hot and ancient and absolutely certain.

"What did he do to you?" James asked quietly.

Emily's face hardened. "Nothing I'll talk about. But James, you can't go back there. Tega will kill you. Really kill you this time."

"No." James met her eyes. "He won't."

He walked past them, out the door, into streets that had gone quiet in the evening. People saw him coming and fled. Word traveled fast in Dragon Nation. Everyone knew James should be dead.

The arena was still lit. Tega had ordered a feast to celebrate his victory. Guards surrounded the entrance, but they stepped aside when James approached. Their faces went pale.

James walked into the arena.

The feast was in full swing. Tega sat on a raised platform beside Lucas and Vivian, drinking wine and boasting about the fight. Officers and wealthy merchants laughed at his jokes. The whole display reeked of corruption.

"I beat him in under five minutes," Tega was saying. "Could've been faster, but I wanted to make it educational for the crowd."

James stepped into the light.

The room went silent. Tega's wine cup stopped halfway to his mouth.

"That's impossible," someone whispered.

James walked forward. Every step echoed in the sudden quiet. Power radiated from him now, visible as a golden aura. He didn't understand it. Didn't know how to control it. But he knew what it was.

The Dragon Soul. The real one. The one Lucas had stolen from Davis twenty years ago.

Except Lucas hadn't taken all of it. A fragment had survived, passed down through bloodlines, sleeping in James until the moment of his death triggered its awakening.

Tega stood, face twisted in confusion and fear. "You're dead. I killed you."

"You killed James." The words came out in Davis's voice. "I'm what's left."

Tega looked at his father. Lucas had gone pale. Vivian gripped the table edge, knuckles white.

"Davis?" Vivian's voice cracked. "It can't be."

"Twenty years," James heard himself say. "I've waited twenty years."

Tega rallied. He was young, arrogant, and drunk on power. "I don't care whose ghost you are. The Dragon Soul makes me invincible."

He charged.

James moved without thinking. Two decades of muscle memory guided his body. He sidestepped Tega's strike, caught the boy's wrist, and redirected the force. Tega stumbled.

"That's not possible," Tega said. "I'm stronger than you."

"You have a stolen soul," James said. "I have the original."

They fought. The arena floor cracked beneath their strikes. Tega threw everything he had into the battle. Full Dragon Soul power, enhanced by years of cultivation. He was fast. Strong. Skilled beyond his years.

But James had something Tega would never have. Experience. Davis's experience. Twenty years of memory showing him exactly how to counter every technique Tega used.

Tega's next strike came too high. James ducked under it, drove his palm into Tega's chest. Power exploded outward. Tega flew backward, crashed through three tables, landed in a broken heap.

He didn't get up.

Lucas's officers drew weapons. James turned toward them. "Stop."

They stopped. The command in his voice was absolute.

James walked toward Lucas and Vivian. They shrank back. These people who'd ruled Dragon Nation through fear for twenty years suddenly looked small. Mortal. Afraid.

"You murdered Davis," James said. "Stabbed him in the back and threw him off a mountain."

Lucas tried to speak. His voice failed.

"You took his power," James continued. "Used it to conquer everything he'd protected. You turned Dragon Nation into a prison."

"We made it strong," Vivian managed. "We—"

"You made it a grave."

James looked down at Tega's body. The boy was still breathing. Barely. In that moment, two warring impulses crashed inside him. James's mercy. Davis's vengeance.

James won. "He lives. For now."

He turned back to Lucas and Vivian. "But this ends today. Your rule. Your corruption. All of it."

Lucas found his voice. "You think you can challenge us? The Dragon Soul you have is just a fragment. Weak. We spent years mastering what we took from Davis."

"Then test it." James's power flared, golden and bright. "Right here. Right now. Come kill me like you killed Davis."

Lucas and Vivian exchanged glances. James saw the calculation in their eyes. They were afraid. Good.

"This isn't over," Lucas said. "Soldiers! Arrest him!"

A hundred guards poured into the arena. They surrounded James, weapons drawn.

James looked at them. These men who'd enforced Lucas's tyranny. Who'd collected taxes from starving families. Who'd beaten people in the streets.

"Go home," James said. "I'm not your enemy. Lucas is."

"Shoot him!" Lucas screamed.

The guards hesitated. James could see the doubt in their faces. They'd all heard stories about Davis. The hero who'd saved Dragon Nation before Lucas's betrayal.

One guard lowered his crossbow. Then another. Within seconds, half the guards had backed away.

"Traitors!" Vivian shouted. "You'll all hang for this!"

James raised his hand. Power gathered, visible and terrible. "No more hanging. No more executions. No more fear. Dragon Nation is done being a prison."

He released the power. It exploded outward not as an attack but as a wave of pure force