I Received System to Become Dragonborn-Chapter 794: Leaked

After hearing what Eccar said, King Aethor and the advisors present all had the same thought. They glanced at each other, and then the king spoke.

"You heard him. Prepare a small squad to escort him to Qomore."

The advisor gave a firm, brief nod. "I'll see to it right away, Your Majesty."

He stepped out with a guard to carry out the order.

Eccar watched the advisor leave, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly at the command. The king said it was to give him an escort—but in truth, he was assigning someone to spy on him.

But that was fine. It wouldn't be a problem. If this helped them feel safer, then he'd allow it. Hopefully, they wouldn't send someone annoying that would get in his way.

King Aethor leaned back in his chair and looked at Eccar again. His eyes—always sharp, always on edge—made Eccar a little uncomfortable, like he was being scrutinized even though he was just standing still.

"Is there anything else you want to say?" Eccar asked.

"I…" King Aethor actually had plenty of questions he wanted to ask a true Dragonborn. But he knew now wasn't the time. He could see that Eccar wouldn't be intimidated by his power or his authority. Still, there was one thing he needed to confirm.

"If you don't mind me asking, why are you doing this? What's in it for you?"

Eccar smiled and replied, "I don't need much of a reason to help, Your Majesty. Is this something humans always do? You have to take something if you want to give something? Haha."

Eccar chuckled. He thought he'd joke a little to break the ice. But he didn't realize that what he'd just said to the king of this realm could be taken as an insult.

Swords were drawn around the throne.

The guards were suddenly ready to strike him the moment those words left his mouth.

"Uh-oh." Eccar realized he might have made a mistake.

"How dare you say that to the king!" one of the guards shouted, his face twisted in anger as he raised his sword toward Eccar.

"Hey, calm down. I was just joking," Eccar said.

"Joking, you say?! Who do you think you are to joke with the ruler of this kingdom?!" another guard snapped. All of them seemed to agree—what Eccar had said was unacceptable.

"Stay down," Adrius warned calmly. He wasn't doing it out of concern for Eccar, but for the guards' safety—and maybe the king's, too.

"Archmage, are you defending this insolent man?!" one of the guards barked.

Read 𝓁atest chapters at fгeewёbnoѵel.cσm Only.

Adrius let out a sigh, feeling exasperated. "He was just joking. It's not a big deal. Your Majesty, please ask your guards to stand down. We can't afford to escalate this right now."

King Aethor looked at Adrius. Somehow, his eyes looked even sharper than before—likely from anger. He didn't like Eccar's joke, that much was clear, but Adrius was right. He had to stop his guards before they got themselves killed.

"Lower your weapons," King Aethor commanded with a wave of his hand.

The guards didn't look pleased, but they obeyed his order.

"I'm sorry, Dragonborn. My guards—and myself—aren't used to jokes like that being directed at us," King Aethor said.

"Ah, that was my bad. Haha." Eccar scratched his head, chuckling.

"We'll gather the squad to accompany you on your journey. Please wait until tomorrow, and then you can depart," King Aethor said, not wanting the situation to drag on.

"Sure," Eccar nodded with a smile.

After that, he returned to his chambers with Adrius.

"Damn, that could've gotten bloody," Eccar said once they were outside.

Adrius didn't say anything—he just chuckled. Nobody joke like that with a king, but a Dragonborn don't play by that rule, or any rule of human world in that matter.

---

A man walked through the quiet streets of the market district that night. The meeting between Eccar and King Aethor had concluded only a few hours ago, and with his duty as one of the king's royal guards temporarily complete, he wasted no time in coming here.

His steps were swift but silent as if this steps was practiced for a long time. He wore a dark cowl that cast his face in shadow, and layers of enchantment wrapped around him. It was disguiseMagic that concealed his appearance and masked his presence from any wandering gaze, Magical or otherwise. Cant be too careful if you're betraying the king.

He moved past closed stalls and shuttered windows, weaving through alleys with the familiarity of someone who had done this many times before. Eventually, he arrived at a modest and unassuming building nestled between two stores.

Its paint was peeling, and its sign was long gone. No reason for anyone to look twice.

He slipped inside without a sound.

The interior was dark and smelled faintly of soot and old wood. He moved to the back, past dust-covered shelves and broken furniture, then knelt and opened a trapdoor hidden beneath a moth-eaten rug. It creaked faintly, but the noise was quickly swallowed by the depth below.

He descended the narrow wooden steps, one hand holding a lantern that cast a soft orange glow. Below, a tunnel stretched before him, carved from rock and reinforced with timber beams.

At the end of the tunnel, he reached a large iron door embedded in the stone. He knocked three times.

Moments later, the door creaked open.

He stepped inside and entered a vast underground chamber. It was bright, filled with crates, stolen weapons, strange relics, and figures moving around. This was the heart of the hidden organization that served no crown, no law, and no god. It was run by gold, blood, and whispered orders.

He walked past the others without a word, heading straight toward a room on the far end.

He knocked once and entered.

Inside, Master Sting sat at a heavy oak desk, the flame of an oil lamp casting a golden hue across his scarred face. An enormous, ancient tome lay open before him, its pages filled with faded runes and strange diagrams that pulsed faintly under the light.

His fingers were ink-stained, but steady, as they traced a line of text written in a forgotten tongue.

He didn't look up immediately.

"You're late," he said without turning, his voice low and calm—too calm.

The man in the cowl stepped forward and removed his hood. "My orders were to stay until the end. I couldn't slip away any sooner."

Sting finally closed the book and looked up, his gaze sharp as a dagger. "The king's meeting with the Dragonborn—how did it go?"

He already know about the Dragonborn from the spies before. And when he heard that, Master Sting didn't seem to surprised of its existance.

"He's sending a squad with him to Qomore. Tomorrow."

Sting leaned back in his chair and folded his arms. "Good… That gives us just enough time."

He paused.

"And the Dragonborn himself? What did you learn?"

The man hesitated. "He's... unpredictable. Bold. Strong. But not reckless. He didn't flinch even when the guards threatened him. He joked to the king's face."

Sting chuckled, but there was no warmth in it. "Typical of someone who doesn't fear death. Or thinks he can't die."

"Should we act before they leave?" the man asked.

Sting's eyes narrowed.

"No. Let them go. We'll watch and maybe create distraction. The Forest God must awaken, and if they stumble into the right place at the wrong time… all the better."

He reached for another scroll and unfurled it. This one drawn with a map of old and forbidden paths through the forests near Qomore. Symbols were scrawled across it in red ink which is actually itual sites, sacred roots, and places the cult was watching closely.

"We'll be ready. Send word to the Order. Tell them to move the sacrifices to Site Three. We begin the next phase tomorrow night and asked them to make the payment tomorrow morning."

The man bowed his head. "Understood."

He turned and left, the door closing behind him with a quiet thud.

Master Sting remained seated, his eyes drifting back to the ancient tome. He whispered under his breath in a forgotten language, and for a moment, the ink on the pages shimmered like veins pulsing with life.

"Dragonborn," he murmured. "Actually, Im kinda curious can I defeat him?"

A grin appeared on his face. He had known about the creature called the Dragonborn for a long time, but back then, he had only considered them a myth—a legend of a being whose power even surpassed that of the gods.

But after that incident, when he saw with his own eyes a Dark Mage, one who had reached the highest level of power, get destroyed by one of the Dragonborn, Sting knew they were very real—and they were strong.

However, as much as he wanted to test himself against the Dragonborn, he wouldn't waste time and energy doing it now, because he was currently handling a heavy task.

The cult that sought to awaken the Forest God was paying his organization very well, so he wouldn't disappoint them. The requirements for this job were also quite difficult, so he had to focus on directing his men and avoiding the king's surveillance.

---