Dragon King: Throne of Demons and Gods-Chapter 21: The Breaking Point

Bel stood firm, his gaze locked onto Dusteria's as the tension between them crackled. His voice, calm yet slightly firm, cut through the courtyard.

"Then just let me go. I stop being your knight, I leave you and your friends in peace. Problem solved."

Dusteria's breath hitched. It was the simplest solution, wasn't it? If she despised his presence so much, if he was such an inconvenience, why not just let him leave?

And yet, the words refused to leave her mouth.

She wanted to say it. She wanted to order him away, to rid herself of this unpredictable, insufferable force in her life. But as she opened her mouth, something held her back.

The woman's warning echoed in her mind like a death sentence.

If the dragon left, so would her and her father's life.

Her fingers curled into fists at her sides, her nails digging into her palms.

Damn it.

She couldn't let him go. Not because of pride, but because her and her father's life depended on it.

But Bel wasn't waiting for an answer.

He turned his back on her, walking away without hesitation. The weight of the moment pressed on her chest like a boulder, crushing her between what she wanted and what she had to do.

"You're only serving my father!" she shouted after him, her voice sharper than she intended. "I have nothing to do with you!"

Bel stopped. The courtyard fell into utter silence.

Slowly, he turned his head, looking at her over his shoulder.

"Who made me a slave to anyone?"

A hush fell over the crowd. The words were quiet, but they hit like a hammer.

Dusteria froze, her throat tightening.

He had never spoken like this before, never openly challenged the very foundation of their hierarchy. The knights standing nearby exchanged uneasy glances, as if they had just witnessed something that should not have been said aloud.

Bel exhaled, shaking his head.

"Thought so."

Without another word, he resumed walking, his footsteps echoing across the stone path.

Dusteria stood still, watching him go, her mind clouded with emotions she couldn't untangle. Something inside her wavered, something she couldn't name.

Meanwhile, the atmosphere in the Duke's office was heavy. Crest stood stiffly before his father's desk, his hands clenched at his sides.

The Duke's voice was cold, unwavering.

"Your reaction was unacceptable, Crest."

Crest inhaled sharply, trying to contain his emotions.

"Unacceptable?" he repeated, his tone filled with disbelief. "You're protecting a knight over your own son?"

The Duke regarded him for a moment before turning toward the window, gazing out as the sky darkened, heavy clouds gathering above the estate.

"It's not about a knight," he said simply. "This boy is very talented."

Crest scoffed.

"Since when does talent prevail over rank?"

A brief silence settled between them before the Duke finally spoke again, his voice quieter this time.

There is something you do not yet understand. Something that will be made public after the Royal Council."

Crest furrowed his brows.

"What do you mean?"

The Duke's fingers tapped against the wooden desk. Then, he exhaled deeply and turned to face his son.

"The demon race is resurfacing."

The words hit Crest like a hammer. He stiffened, his eyes slowly widening as he processed the revelation.

"What?"

The Duke stepped away from the window, folding his arms behind his back.

"For the past few months, there have been reports of new varieties of monsters, stronger, more intelligent, more ruthless than anything we have encountered in the last decades."

He began to pace slowly.

"Villages have been wiped out overnight. Entire populations reduced to nothing but ashes and bones. Strange markings have been found on the remains of those who perished, symbols that match those recorded from the last demon war."

Crest swallowed hard, his mind racing.

"That doesn't..."

The Duke cut him off.

"And then, there is the attack on the Barony."

Crest's breath caught in his throat.

"The reason the Baron's estate was targeted," the Duke continued, "was because the previous Baron had been entrusted with one of the relics used to seal the demons."

Crest's stomach twisted.

"You mean... the Seven Treasures of the Hero? There was one with the Baron?!"

The Duke nodded.

"The person who led the attack was actively searching for it. And more importantly..." He narrowed his eyes. "The Baron swore that she was decapitated. And yet, she rose again."

Crest's blood ran cold.

"She is, in all likelihood, a demon," the Duke stated firmly. "And if the demons are searching for the Seven Treasures, then no noble is safe. If they are targeting us, it means the seals binding them are weakening."

The weight of the situation pressed down on Crest, making it hard to breathe. His father had always been composed, always had a plan, but there was something different in his voice now, an urgency that Crest had never heard before.

"And that," the Duke said, "is why we need someone like this young boy."

Crest remained silent, his mind reeling.

"You... you want to make him into a weapon?"

The Duke nodded.

"The finest weapon."

A long pause stretched between them, then the Duke stepped closer, his gaze locking onto Crest's.

"You weren't meant to hear this yet. At the Council, all will be revealed, but considering your animosity toward Bel, I wanted you to understand."

He lowered his voice.

"You would do well to stay on good terms with him."

Crest's throat was dry. He wanted to argue, to push back, but for the first time in a long while, he had no words.

The thunder rumbled with distant thunder, as if echoing the storm building within the kingdom itself.

Later that day, Dusteria stood before her father, her fists clenched at her sides as he scolded her with a rare intensity. The Baron's expression was dark with frustration, his voice carrying the weight of their precarious situation.

"Do you even understand what you've done?" he snapped, his eyes narrowing. "This boy is our life insurance. I told you to not annoy him so many times, what the hell is wrong with you?!"

Dusteria swallowed, her face tense. She wanted to argue, wanted to tell him that it wasn't her responsibility to keep Bel here, that she had no control over him.

But she remained silent, knowing that deep down, she understood. She couldn't let him go. Even if she hated to admit it.

This chapter is updat𝓮d by freēnovelkiss.com.

Meanwhile, in a another room, Will stirred awake. His body ached all over, the bruises and swelling from his defeat still raw. His vision cleared, and the first thing he saw was Sienna, arms crossed, glaring down at him.

"You absolute idiot," she hissed, her tone filled with exasperation. "Do you have a single idea how things are bad now because of you?"

Will groaned, his head pounding. He wiped at his eyes, trying to blink away the stinging sensation building in them.

"I..." His voice cracked, and before he could say anything else, he felt it. The overwhelming humiliation. His breath hitched, his fingers curling into the sheets. Tears welled up, spilling over before he could stop them. "I just... I just wanted to prove myself."

Sienna sighed, shaking her head.

"Yeah, well, you proved something alright." Her expression softened as she looked at him, her anger giving way to sympathy. "You proved you were an idiot. Now you've destroy the relationship between all of them."

Later that night, Bel stood at the edge of the forest, his gaze fixed on the dark expanse before him. The trees swayed in the wind, the distant sounds of nocturnal creatures stirring. His grip tightened on his sword, his golden eyes gleaming under the moonlight.

"Alright," he muttered to himself. "Let's go."

Time passed, but the tension within the household did not fade.

The days that followed were filled with unease. Bel had formally requested to resign from his position as the Baron's knight, and the mere suggestion sent tremors through the noble circles.

His complete defiance, his unwillingness to bow to the hierarchy, was a challenge to everything the nobility stood for.

The Duke and the Baron stood in firm opposition, refusing to let him walk away. But the whispers within the household grew louder. Many of the nobles and their retainers resented Bel's presence, considering him unworthy of standing on equal footing with those of higher birth.

His blatant disrespect toward Crest, Dusteria and the humiliation of Will had only solidified their disdain.

Bel, however, did not care.

He trained. He hunted. He learned. Every day, he grew stronger, but so did the hostility around him. His very existence had become a point of contention, dividing the household into those who saw his value and those who wished to see him gone.

The Baron, feeling the pressure growing, made his decision.

If he could not keep Bel through force, he would use politics. He would play his final card at the upcoming Royal Council.

The day was fast approaching.

And with it, the fracture of the fragile peace that held the kingdom together was spreading.