Dragon's Awakening: The Duke's Son Is Changing The Plot-Chapter 383 - 382 - The Festival 1.

That night.

Velmoria’s capital was alive.

No—it was vibrating.

The entire city glowed under curtains of silver and gold light, fireworks dancing across the sky like drunken stars.

The streets overflowed with laughter, music, and lanterns shaped like various creatures Raven had "accidentally" destroyed in past battles.

A massive crystal dome covered the plaza, reflecting the moonlight so perfectly that the entire city shimmered as if floating on water.

Every district had its own theme.

The western quarter held "Monster Piñata Hour" (featuring very punchable papier-mâché demons).

The northern district had "Element Roulette," where mages blasted random colors of mana into the sky until someone set their eyebrows on fire.

And in the southern plaza, people were reenacting Raven’s fights—badly.

One actor pretending to be Raven swung a fake sword, yelling, "Omni Slash of Justice!" only for a foam sword to fall apart mid-swing.

The audience cheered anyway, as it was entertainment.

At the city’s edge, a group of street vendors debated passionately.

"I’m telling ya, Siris is the real star," one man said, grilling skewers. "I heard she froze an entire wave of corrupt beasts during a fight. Cold beauty, hot temper. Just my type."

His friend snorted. "Pfft. Nah, Clara’s the one. Calm, composed, and she doesn’t stab you for breathing wrong."

A nearby woman waved her fan. "Oh, nonsense. Selena is a queen. The way she carries herself—grace and fire. You men wouldn’t last a minute talking to her."

"Oh, please," said an old granny, sipping rice wine like it was holy nectar. "Crisaius is the one. I’m eighty-three, my hips are dust—but if that man so much as looked my way, I’d feel twenty again."

Her friend wheezed. "You’d crumble before he even blinked!"

The first granny leaned in conspiratorially, eyes gleaming. "Then I’d die happy."

Without Crisaius even realizing it, he was gaining fame among women, just not the type he wanted, or maybe he did. He was weird, so only he knew what went through his mind.

The celebration, on the other hand, was anything but weird, well, except for the part that some shady groups were calling themselves Nibbles’s fanatics roaming around in the city.

This celebration, which was supposed to be a party for the citizens of the capital city to relax after tense times, had been turned into a festival by the citizens.

This was a festival where the citizens worshiped their heroes.

It had reached the point where the people of the city themselves had taken on some decorations, such as lighting up their houses from both inside and outside, and assisting in the decoration of the castle’s surroundings.

Therefore, closer to the castle, the energy wasn’t chaotic but dazzling.

Floating orbs of light drifted above marble pathways, musicians played mana-infused instruments that made sound visible, and golden banners of the kingdom shimmered like living silk.

The entire capital pulsed with one united excitement: "Their heroes were all safe and back to them."

And this grand festival was for them.

From the taverns to the rooftops, people shouted names like blessings.

"Raven! Selena! Clara! Siris! Argon! Crisaius!"

Every person had their favorite. Every heart had its story.

Inside the royal castle, in the grand chamber at the city’s heart, the so-called heroes were... having a serious discussion.

Raven sat at a circular table, chin resting on his hand, crimson eyes reflecting the city lights outside. Around him, chaos brewed faster than any storm.

"Alright," Siris said, sharpening a dagger on the tablecloth, "let’s get to the important part. What do we do if some girl approaches Raven for a dance?"

Clara rubbed her chin, her expression thoughtful. "This is indeed an issue since rejecting everyone isn’t a good thing."

Even Selena nodded, humming as she knew that this issue could cause a political spark because many forces, including those from other kingdoms, would want to bind themselves to Raven, one way or another.

After all, Raven was the rising star, or more like, the brightest star, of the four-kingdom alliance.

They would fall to whatever level they had to, even agreeing to let their treasured daughters be Raven’s concubine, to have someone from their family carry Raven’s child.

And if one could fall that low, then they wouldn’t accept it if Raven just rejected everyone.

It would make them feel like they were being looked down upon, and although it didn’t really matter, as Velmoria didn’t need to care about others’ opinions, no one really liked betrayals.

That was when Lia’s eyes lit up with realization. "We can just make it so that Raven always has a girl next to him."

Everyone turned to her, and Jessy, sprawled across a chair with a glass of something suspiciously strong, muttered, "My thoughts exactly. We could send someone in whenever someone asked for a dance, saying that he already had an appointment."

Selena, Siris, and Clara nodded, clearly satisfied by the solution, and Jessy leaned back. "Now, I want to ask again: can I not attend? I’ll tell everyone I’m cursed or something."

"Cursed with laziness," Alex teased. He leaned forward dramatically. "Come on, Jessy. Live a little. There’ll be music, lights, and free food!"

Nibbles, perched on his shoulder, raised a small sign: "Also chaos."

Jake also nodded, as if telling her that she would fit right in.

Rufus, who had just been discharged a while ago, adjusted his freshly repaired nano-suit, grinning. "Finally, a night without broken bones. Though knowing this group, that might change."

Graye spun once, her sleek new armor glittering like starlight. "If it does, I’m ready! My armor’s dance-proof and stab-proof! Look!"

She twirled again—nearly smacking Rufus in the face with her armored hands.

Lia clapped gently, smiling. "You look lovely, Graye! The trees outside said your outfit ’sparkles with aggression.’"

Raven blinked. "The... trees said that?"

"Yes," Lia said dreamily. "They like your hair, too. It reminds them of controlled forest fires."

Omni’s voice chuckled from Raven’s arm tattoo. "Boss, I swear your life’s a romantic comedy that got lost in a warzone."

Raven leaned back, exhaling through his nose. "At least no one’s threatening to burn the castle down yet."

"Give it five minutes," Omni said. "Selena’s smiling too much."

Selena’s smile didn’t fade. "I heard that."

"See?" Omni whispered. "Clock’s ticking."

Outside, the bells of Velmoria chimed, signaling the official start of the festival.

Fireworks burst into shapes of swords, crowns, and a very questionable squirrel outline. The people roared.

Inside, Raven stood, smoothing his coat.

"Alright, everyone," he said, voice calm yet carrying authority. "Try not to start a war out there."

Graye saluted. "No promises!"

Omni snorted. "Heh. That’s our chaos brigade."

And with that, the doors of the royal hall opened, flooding the chamber with golden light and the roaring heartbeat of a kingdom celebrating its living legends.

Raven stepped out first, his group following—a storm of beauty, chaos, and power disguised as guests. 𝓯𝓻𝒆𝙚𝒘𝓮𝙗𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝒍.𝙘𝓸𝙢

Many of them were already looking for Raven like hungry wolves for meat, and Raven, the heart of the celebration, took a deep breath, wondering how his first meeting with the bigwigs of the four-kingdom alliance would go.

What he didn’t know was that right then, at the border of the capital city, three uninvited guests had arrived.

At the edge of Velmoria’s capital, where the laughter dimmed and fireworks looked like fading stars, three figures stood against the wind.

The first—tall, black-haired, and sharp-eyed—watched the city lights with quiet scrutiny. His expression was calm but firm, the kind of stillness that came before a storm.

Beside him stood a man with gray hair and eyes to match—cold, steady, deadpan, and very clearly unimpressed by the glowing capital.

And between them, leaning casually on a stone post, was the third—a white-haired man with gold eyes that gleamed with a mix of mischief and command. Even in silence, it was clear the other two deferred to him.

The gray-haired one exhaled. "We’re here."

The black-haired man raised an eyebrow. "You’re sure this time, Zev?"

Zev turned his dull gray eyes toward him with visible offense. "Have I ever been wrong?"

The white-haired man—Lucien—tilted his head, voice lazy and laced with amusement. "Yes, you have."

Zev blinked, expression unchanging. "...When?"

Lucien’s golden eyes flicked toward him, his lips curling. "The time you teleported me into the men’s hot spring instead of the women’s one."

For a brief moment, the air went still. Then the black-haired man, Draven, coughed lightly, looking away.

Zev’s eyebrow twitched.

"Other than that?" He asked flatly, as if avoiding the topic.

Lucien hummed, thinking deeply, then he shrugged. "No, I suppose not."

"Then," Zev said, his eyes turning back to the city. "I’m right again."

Lucien’s smile widened. "Your logic’s as twisted as ever."

The three of them looked out over the shining city. From afar, the laughter and light almost made Velmoria look untouchable—a beacon of peace.

Draven broke the silence, his voice low and edged. "Strange. They celebrate like this when a war—no, a slaughter—is approaching."

Lucien’s expression flickered, the faintest shadow passing behind his golden gaze.

"Perhaps that’s exactly why," he murmured. "It’s easier to dance before the storm than during it."

Neither Zev nor Draven replied, but the tension in their stance spoke volumes.

Finally, Lucien straightened, brushing invisible dust from his white coat. "Come. We’re not here to philosophize. We’re here to meet them."

The three stepped forward—and as they entered the glowing streets of the capital, something eerie occurred.

No one looked their way.

No one gasped, whispered, or even saw them.

The crowds passed through the edges of their shadows as if the three men were ghosts walking among the living—unseen, unfelt, and untouchable.

And as the festival’s laughter echoed around them, the golden-eyed man smiled faintly.

"Let’s go and see the faces of the people who are hailed as heroes."