Demonic Dragon: Harem System-Chapter 534: Where to go?

Chapter 534: Where to go?

The sound of the wind cutting through the treetops was the only noise that filled the heavy silence in the clearing. The residual energy from the confrontation still vibrated in the air, but the bodies were motionless. No weapons raised, no spells lurking. Only the soft sound of Elyssar’s murmur, lost in a whirlwind of memories.

Her golden eyes were distant, staring into the void as if they were stuck on a point in the past — not there, not now. Her upright posture, imposing by nature, had given way to an almost melancholic stiffness. Like a cracked statue still trying to remain whole.

“She trained my master… how did I never know this before?”

“Scathach… why didn’t you ever tell me…?”

“Was everything manipulated from the beginning?”

The words came out low, disconnected. A loop of murmurs, like an ancient spell she recited unconsciously, trying to piece together the fragments of what she had just discovered.

Across the clearing, the four watched in silence. Scarlet kept her arms crossed, her eyes half-closed, assessing every nuance of this internal crisis. Ouroboros simply stared at her with his typical serene expression, but there was a slight frown—perhaps empathy, perhaps concern. Tiamat maintained her colossal presence, immobile, like a monolith of scales and steel, waiting for any sign of danger. And Strax… Strax seemed the most impatient.

“Hello?” he finally said, raising his voice with a touch of irony. “General Elyssar? Wake up to reality.”

The call was like a snap.

Elyssar blinked, and her eyes refocused. She looked around as if realizing for the first time where she was, who was before her, and the uncomfortable silence she had caused.

An expression of shame crossed her face.

She took a step forward and, with all the formality of a warrior raised in centuries of discipline, bowed before the group. The gesture, coming from someone like Elyssar, was not insignificant. It was loaded with meaning.

“Forgive my… distraction,” she said, her voice firm though wavering with emotion. “But I must be clear: I have no connection to the attack on Vorah. Neither direct… nor indirect.”

The group remained silent for a moment.

Strax looked at Scarlet. The former vampire raised an eyebrow, analyzing Elyssar for a few more seconds. Finally, she just nodded, briefly and decisively.

“She’s being sincere,” she said.

Strax snorted and finally relaxed his shoulders a little. Still suspicious, as always, but willing to listen.

“Okay… let’s take it step by step.” He crossed his arms. “If it wasn’t you… how do we find this Ignisar guy?”

Elyssar straightened her posture, the name bringing new tension to her face.

“If I knew, I would have gone after him already,” she replied. “But no one in Caelum knows where Ignisar is. He hasn’t shown up at the Inner Council meetings for a few days.”

“Internal Council?” asked Tiamat.

She nodded. “The Seven Draconic Cities of Caelum are ruled by leaders elected from among the great ancestors. Each city sends a representative to the Conclave of the Heavens. Ignisar represented Vraxas, the oldest among them. But since the rumors began… he has disappeared.”

Ouroboros took a step closer. “Rumors?”

“Shortly before,” explained Elyssar, “some of our spies warned that draconic legions were being secretly deployed. Entire troops from Vraxas, loyal only to Ignisar, left the mountains without warning. There was no declaration of war, no sanction from the Conclave. When Vorah was attacked… we discovered that it was these troops.”

“So it was him,” concluded Scarlet. “But… if these troops were destroyed in the attack, what does that tell us about him?”

Elyssar took a deep breath. “That he’s hiding something bigger. No draconic leader would sacrifice his elite forces like that. Unless that was just the tip of the iceberg.”

Strax ran his hand through his hair. “And now no one knows where he is.”

“Not even Caelum,” said Elyssar. “The Conclave tried to find him. We tried to track his flights, his runes, anything. But he erased all traces. As if he knew they would come after him.”

“So he’s not just a traitor,” Ouroboros muttered. “He’s a strategist.”

“He’s more than that,” Elyssar said. “He’s a radical. He always has been. Ignisar believed that dragons were the rightful rulers of the skies and the earth. He despised alliances with lesser races. He called the Pact of the Skies a sham… a weakness.”

Tiamat growled softly. “A purist.”

“Yes,” confirmed Elyssar. “And over time, he became more isolated. More paranoid. He spoke of ancient prophecies, of a new cycle… of a draconic rebirth.”

Scarlet took a step forward. “And you let him continue in the Conclave?”

“It wasn’t simple,” said Elyssar. “Ignisar’s lineage goes back to the First Breath. He has power and influence. And until the attack on Vorah, there was no proof.”

Strax shook his head. “And now? Is there anywhere he could be? Any clues?”

Elyssar hesitated, as if searching his mind for a map, a name, anything. Then he finally spoke:

“Honestly, the best option is to go where he liked to stay. Inside the active volcano.”

The silence that followed was immediate and cutting.

Scarlet frowned. “Are you suggesting that he… lived inside a volcano?”

“Not only did he live there,” Elyssar corrected, his tone somber. “He fed off it. From the magma currents, from the arcane pressure accumulated in the depths. It was a place called Pyraeth—a stronghold forbidden even among dragons themselves. They say that there, the world breathes fire… and that anyone unworthy is consumed before even reaching the center.”

Tiamat let out a deep grunt. “I know that name. The fools I knew in the past called it the Cradle of the Last Twilight. Many of our kind died trying to tame that place.”

Ouroboros raised an eyebrow. “A poetic name for a furnace of death.”

Strax, however, just clicked his tongue. “Great. From a confrontation with an army of dragons to a stroll through a magma hell. What a wonderful phase of life.”

“If Ignisar is there,” Elyssar continued, “it’s because he’s preparing for something big. He wouldn’t choose Pyraeth at random. Just the act of meditating in that environment strengthens certain draconic bloodlines—especially those descended from the Breath of Fire.”

“And he’s one of them?” asked Scarlet.

Elyssar nodded slowly. “Directly. According to some legends, his blood is so pure that he doesn’t need to change form. His draconic form is his true essence.”

“That explains the ego,” muttered Strax.

“That explains the power,” corrected Ouroboros.

“In any case,” said Elyssar, “I don’t think it’s worth risking our lives by entering a volcano of that magnitude.”

Everyone looked at each other. Not out of fear — but out of respect for what was to come.

Scarlet was the first to break the silence. “You’re quite the coward, aren’t you?” she said, then sighed, “Point us in the direction we need to go. Thank you, cowardly disciple.”

Elyssar stiffened instantly, as if Scarlet’s words had been a direct blow to the pride that still remained in her wavering posture.

“I’m not a coward!” she retorted, her voice rising like a restrained roar, but faltering at the end—not from weakness of will, but from something deeper. “But… my body… no longer responds as it once did.”

Silence fell again, this time denser, more charged with something between shame and honesty.

She looked away, as if she hated to admit her vulnerability to them. “Since the last Battle of the Celestial Frontiers, the arcane channels within me have been compromised. Pyraeth’s flames would tear me apart before I could take ten steps beyond the outer chamber. I tried… years ago.” The revelation came in a low whisper, marked by frustration.

Scarlet narrowed her eyes but said nothing. It was difficult to tell if there was regret or just critical assessment in her gaze.

Elyssar took a deep breath and continued, more firmly:

“Furthermore, you do not understand the magnitude of what you are about to face. If you go straight to Pyraeth without the Conclave’s seal of approval, the Elders of Caelum will intercept you. It’s a matter of national security. Any approach to that region without formal authorization will be considered a provocation—or worse, an act of war.”

Tiamat let out a sound like muffled thunder, but remained silent.

“So what do you suggest?” asked Strax, irritated, but now more restrained.

Scarlet glanced quickly at Ouroboros and Tiamat. No words were necessary—a slight gasp, a raised eyebrow, and understanding flowed between the three like a silent current.

Then, almost simultaneously, their shoulders began to shake.

“Ha…” Scarlet let out first, trying to contain herself.

Ouroboros brought her hand to her face, shaking her head.

Tiamat lifted her chin, her eyes sparkling — and then, together, the three of them burst into laughter.

“HA—HAHAHAHAHA!”

The sound echoed through the clearing like a sudden thunderclap. It was a loud, raw, merciless laugh — not of scorn, but of pure mockery at the absurd idea of “not surviving.”

Elyssar blinked, confused. “What… exactly are you laughing at?”

Scarlet leaned forward, resting her hands on her knees, still panting between laughs. “Do you think… that a volcano… a meeting of elders… or even the heavens falling will stop us?”

Tiamat let out a muffled growl between bursts of laughter. “Not even Hell wants us, Elyssar. We tried once. They sent us back.”

Ouroboros caught his breath first, the smile still plastered on his face. “If we’re going to die trying, we’ll die laughing. But doubt our survival… and you’ll be surprised at how hard we are to bury.”

Elyssar stood still for a moment. A mixture of bewilderment, admiration, and—against her will—relief took over her face. A small curve appeared on her lips. Almost a smile. Almost.

“You’re crazy,” she muttered, shaking her head.

“No,” Scarlet replied, now more serious. “We’re persistent. And that’s more dangerous.”

“Then get ready,” said Elyssar, with a new gleam in her eyes. “Draythir is no place for amateurs.”

Tiamat shrugged. “Perfect. It’s been a while since I destroyed a ballroom with protocol.”