The Return of the Betrayed Heir

3

Chapter 3

A three-year-old child stood inside a wooden crib... a child who had barely learned to walk and speak, yet housed the sharp, calculating mind of a sixteen-year-old warrior who had reclaimed his past life.

I had returned to the age of three. As for Tessarion, he was still tiny, barely capable of fluttering his wings, sleeping soundly beside my small feet.

I let out a heavy sigh and looked down at my small palms. "Why did I come back? Everything was supposed to be over... I thought I would finally find peace, but..."

My thoughts were cut short by the sound of the door opening. A young woman with long golden hair and emerald-green eyes stepped inside; it was Helena, my personal maid and nurse.

Helena smiled when she saw me awake inside the crib. She approached with gentle steps and lifted me into her arms. "Young Master, it seems you are awake."

I stared at her with a sullen expression. In my past life, Helena had taken meticulous care of me, only to be brutally assassinated the moment I turned sixteen. No one ever discovered who committed the deed, but her body was left hanging in cold blood from a tree in the dragon territory. I remembered that day vividly, and every time I looked at her face now, the gruesome memory of her death haunted me.

I thought to myself, 'I forgot how beautiful her smile was...'

Helena placed my head gently against her shoulder and patted my back with soothing rhythm, humming a warm lullaby. My small crimson eyes drifted toward the empty space ahead. Even trapped in the body of a three-year-old, my past memories were sharp and agonizing... the bitterness of death, and the ignorance of my killer's identity in my final moments. I had been murdered for no reason, even though I never lusted after the throne or claimed a right to rule; all I wanted after the war ended was to build a secluded house far away in the dragon lands and live out my days in peace.

"Young Master, are you not sleepy yet?" Helena interrupted my thoughts.

I replied with my small, high-pitched voice, "No, I'm not sleepy."

"Would you like to play then?"

"No, morning is almost here and I am hungry."

Helena smiled softly. "Alright then, let me fetch you something to eat."

She gently set me back inside the crib and hurried out of the room, closing the door behind her. The moment the latch clicked, I threw my pillow onto the floor and tossed the blanket right over it to create a cushioned landing zone. Grasping the wooden bars of the crib, I pulled myself up and leaped downward.

'My first escape plan is a success.'

The rays of the rising sun began to creep through the floor-to-ceiling window. The light hit my face, causing my crimson eyes to glint darkly, and a twisted, sarcastic smirk formed on my toddler lips. "Baelon and his little accomplice... I will massacre both of you!! I will make absolute sure to utilize this second life to its fullest."

Suddenly, the sunlight flooding the room was cast into darkness by a massive shadow. I scurried toward the towering window with my small, clumsy steps to investigate the source.

Perched outside was a colossal black dragon with four horns—two sweeping backward and two curving forward.

I gasped under my breath, "Grayghost... If he is here, then that means..."

My eyes widened as far as they could when I spotted the figure standing right next to the beast; it was the father I hadn't seen in an eternity.

"Father..."

Aenys Dragonblood, my father and the current Patriarch of the Dragon Family. He was a man who stood at the absolute top of the continent's most dangerous individuals list. If the Dragon Family hadn't been annihilated during the great war, it was entirely due to his overwhelming, terrifying power.

Having witnessed his sheer might up close in my past, I knew better than anyone how lethal he truly was.

Aenys raised his head and locked his right crimson eye onto me. A cold shiver ran down my spine, and I flinched, stepping back until I lost my balance and tumbled onto the floor.

Suddenly, a deep, menacing voice echoed right in front of me: "Son."

I opened my eyes to find him standing directly before me inside the room.

"Father!!"

I froze in pure terror. His gaze was far too fierce and piercing to be directed at a three-year-old child. A single look from him made my knees turn to stone.

"Why are you awake so early?" Aenys asked in a calm, heavy tone. "Are you frightened?"

I swallowed hard, thinking, 'You are the most frightening thing in this entire room...'

When I failed to give him an answer, a heavy silence hung in the air. I stammered, "I... I just..."

"I have returned, Young Master!"

Helena broke the oppressive silence as she walked in, carrying a tray loaded with baby porridge. The moment she caught sight of Aenys, she straightened up instantly and bowed low with deep reverence. "I greet the Patriarch."

Aenys glanced at the tray in Helena's hands, realizing I was hungry. Without uttering another word, he turned around and vanished from the room as silently as a ghost.

My rigid body shattered like an eggshell in shock at his abrupt departure. 'He left without saying a single word!!' I thought, stunned.

Helena set the tray on a nearby table, picked me up, and placed me firmly into my high chair before sliding the bowl in front of me.

I narrowed my eyes in disgust at the sight of the mush. "This disgusting stuff again?!"

Helena immediately caught the irritation in my voice. "This is very important nutrition for a growing boy like you, Young Master."

I clasped my tiny hands together and widened my eyes with a starry, innocent shine, deploying my most formidable weapon: extreme cuteness!!

"Helena, can you please bring me some real meat?" I asked in a sweet, angelic voice.

Helena dazed for a moment, visibly struggling against the deadly charm assault. She held her hands up defensively. "I am so sorry, Young Master, but the Lady strictly forbade me from giving you any solid meat just yet."

I blinked twice, intensifying the pleading look to gain the upper hand, but a tiny, squeaky roar erupted from the crib, ruining my entire strategy. Tessarion had woken up, tried to climb out of the crib, and tumbled headfirst onto the carpet.

Helena burst into laughter at the sight, while I gritted my tiny milk teeth in annoyance. 'You little bastard dragon!! You ruined my whole plan!' I swore mentally.

Tessarion shook his head, tilted it sideways, and looked at me with a happy, oblivious derp expression. Unaware of my inner rage, he thought I was playing with him and began making chirping sounds.

'Is this foolish reptile really Tessarion..?' I couldn't help but wonder.

In the future war, Tessarion had earned the title of the most breathtaking and lethal flying dragon in the history of the continent of Edeya. His dazzling golden scales gave him a majestic, divine appearance, but the moment those radiant scales were painted in enemy blood, even the bravest warriors would wet themselves in terror.

Tessarion waddled slowly over to my high chair, leaned his little head against my leg, and uttered strange, purring noises.

I was at a loss for what to do. My loyal companion from my past life was standing right before me once again, but I couldn't recall the last time I had shown him genuine affection or told him I cared...

Helena smiled warmly. "He really adores you, Young Master. The two of you are going to be inseparable friends in the future."

I raised my trembling hand hesitated for a brief second before gently touching his smooth head. When was the last time I saw him looking this innocent and sweet? When was the last time Tessarion slept peacefully by my side without the stench of blood surrounding us?

Emotions I had buried long ago began bubbling up to the surface, but I forcibly pushed them back down. I didn't need sentimental weakness right now. With everything starting over from scratch, only one thought dominated my mind: identifying the bastard who plunged that dark blade into my chest.

Helena extended a spoon heaped with porridge toward my mouth. "Open wide, say aaaah..."

I let out a defeated sigh and opened my mouth, letting her feed me. It didn't take long before the heavy chains of fatigue began wrapping around my fragile toddler body. 'Damned weak body... I just woke up a little while ago...'

My eyelids grew impossibly heavy, and I drifted off into a deep slumber. Seeing me asleep, Helena smiled gently, lifted me out of the high chair, and tucked me back into the safety of the crib.

Tessarion tried to spread his tiny pinkish-gold wings and leap up to follow me into the crib, but he immediately crashed back onto the floor. When Helena leaned down to pick him up and set him next to me, Tessarion suddenly bared his tiny fangs and snapped at her fingers, forcing her to snatch her hand back in surprise.

"My goodness..." Helena gasped.

The baby golden dragon's ash-gray eyes flared with fierce hostility. Driven by an innate protective instinct, he was warning her to keep her distance from me. After all, despite his tiny size, he and I shared a bond deeper than blood.

Helena looked down at me sleeping soundly and chuckled under her breath. "You certainly have a fiercely protective dragon, Young Master."

***

Hours passed before I opened my eyes again. The afternoon sun was now casting long, golden shadows across the stone floor of my chambers. My head felt remarkably clearer, though the physical limitations of this toddler vessel remained an annoying hindrance.

Tessarion was curled up in a ball right next to my stomach inside the crib, his tiny chest rising and falling in rhythmic breaths. Every time he exhaled, a tiny, harmless puff of warm smoke drifted from his nostrils.

I sat up quietly, being careful not to wake him, and looked around the vast, opulent room. Intricate tapestries depicting ancient battles between dragons and phoenixes hung from the high stone walls. Elaborate silver candelabras rested on carved marble tables, and rich mahogany furniture filled the space. This was the dragon royal nursery—a sanctuary of luxury that I had forgotten during my years on the blood-soaked battlefields.

'If my calculations are correct, the war between our family and the Phoenix Clan hasn't reached its peak yet,' I analyzed silently, staring at my tiny hands. 'Right now, there is peace on the surface, but the undercurrents of political betrayal are already festering within our own walls.'

My thoughts immediately drifted to Baelon, my treacherous older brother. In my past life, he had played the role of the supportive, loving sibling while secretly orchestrating my downfall. He envied the favor I received from the Blood Knights and feared that Father would name me as the successor to the Dragonblood Clan.

'He used an otherworldly obsidian weapon to murder my dragon and neutralize my mana,' I remembered, my jaw clenching. 'Where did he acquire such a weapon? It contained no mana, yet it sliced through dragon hide as if it were parchment. It doesn't belong to this continent.'

The realization sent a chill through me. Baelon hadn't acted alone. He was colluding with a mysterious third faction—one that possessed knowledge and technology far beyond the realm of Edeya.

A soft knock at the door shattered the quiet atmosphere of the room.

"Young Master, are you awake?" a deep, dignified voice called out from behind the heavy oak door.