The Dragon King's Hated Bride
Chapter 99: The Dilemma Of Humans

Chapter 99: The Dilemma Of Humans

>>Draegon

The ballroom noise faded behind me as I walked toward the enormous window set into the western wall of the palace—an arch of black stone framing the night like a painting. Stars glittered cold and sharp above the horizon, and below us, the silver gardens glowed under the moonlight.

King Orin stood there already, hands clasped behind his back, posture straight with human regality. He didn’t turn when I approached, but I felt his attention shift, felt the sharpness of his thoughts like frost on steel.

I stepped beside him.

"May I ask what the matter is?," I said. "You said it was urgent."

"Yes, we’ve got a problem."He wasted no time. "And we feel like it’s going to get out of hand soon."

"What is it?" I asked

"We’ve had disappearances. Across three provinces in the past month. People keep going missing without a trace."

I raised a brow. "Who?"

"Citizens with magic. Mostly untrained, some not even registered in the archives. The pattern was clear only recently."

My jaw tightened. This sounded awfully familiar. But people with magic were targeted? If this is the work of abyss worshippers, is using magic users more powerful? Does it help to open a bigger gate?

!!

I remembered something.

Right! The gate

"And the gate?" I asked. "How big was it?" I had received the report that a gate opened in Havenmoore.

Orin exhaled slowly. "We don’t know. It didn’t open in the sky."

I turned my gaze sharply toward him.

He continued, grim-faced. "Our scouts discovered an underground site three days ago. Hidden deep beneath the ruins of an old mining city. We found the ritual chamber." A beat. "Blood everywhere. Charred bones. A weird symbol etched with blood.."

I felt my fists tighten at my sides.

"How many died?" I asked.

"Dozens, maybe more. We believe the gate was opened and shut. Brief, but violent." He sighed, "The monsters were hard to fight with. The knowledge from the war and your personal self helped a lot, but seeing a site-" He looked out the window, shaking his head, "It seems there are far too many people involved in this madness."

I looked back out the window. "How did you survive the trip to Dravos? I heard you lost men."

The sky seemed to darken, the stars were fading away... Or was I imagining it?

His mouth pressed into a line. "We were attacked in the forest pass by something that wasn’t a monster. An ambush." He paused, "Yet that person- I don’t know," he shook his head, "He was all covered but when we attacked he oozed out black blood."

I let out a sigh, "It must be a person who drank black milk,"

"Black milk?" He looked at me in confusion.

"I explained it in my report that was sent to your kingdom."

"Ah!" He recalled it, "Right... The hunger for power it seems to be providing..." He let out a soft sigh, "We had two fire mages around my carriage. He killed them both and ran off."

Fire magic.

Of course.

The only magic known to scorch Abyss creatures down to the marrow, to close tears in the veil, to cauterize the infection before it spread. During the war, hundreds of fire mages had been thrown to the frontlines—used as weapons, then discarded as casualties.

Each one lost was irreplaceable.

"The thing killed the fire mages and ran off..." I murmured.

"It was clearly targeted." His jaw worked silently for a moment before he said, "Which is why we’ve come to ask for something else."

I turned my head slightly.

He looked at me, eyes cool and measured. "We want our hero back."

A beat passed between us. Then I asked, voice low, "Ariston?"

"Yes."

I narrowed my eyes. "He’s not a magic user."

"No," Orin agreed. "But he is a symbol. A name that rallies soldiers. A man who slew dozens of Abyss fiends on the frontlines, and survived. Even without magic he became our war hero. Our people call him immortal." A grin appeared on his face, "Yet he’s here," Orin shook his head, "Doing what? Guarding the princess?"

"Queen," I corrected him

"Doesn’t matter," Orin stated, "He’s a war hero now. A symbol. He has no need of doing some measly guard duty."

My silence stretched long and heavy.

I remembered the war. I remembered how Ariston had carved his way through the battlefield like death incarnate—driven not by duty, but by something else. He had refused orders, disobeyed generals, and still come back victorious.

"You think sending him back to your court will stop the disappearances?" I asked Orin.

"I think," Orin said, "having him home will remind our people that not everything has been lost."

He was playing politics. But there was truth under the surface.

"Ariston chose to stay here," I said, folding my hands behind my back. My voice was calm, but there was no mistaking the edge beneath it. "He guards my wife. If you want him back, you should speak to him yourself. It was his decision to come here and stay, it will also be his decision if he wants to leave."

King Orin’s mouth pressed into a firm line, his gaze not leaving mine. "So noted."

I studied him carefully. For all his pride, he was beginning to look tired—worn by a kingdom fraying at the edges and plagued by things beyond even his reach. The sharpness in his features hadn’t dulled, but there was a flicker of desperation beneath it. He had come here hoping for an answer. And not just for Ariston.

"Have you found the missing people?" I asked.

His expression turned grim. "No."

I straightened, "No?" I looked at him, "What about the bodies found at the site?"

"The bodies we found in the ritual chamber were not those who went missing," he continued, voice low and tight. "Those were the sacrifices of completely unknown poeple. People who hadn’t even been reported missing. But the ones we lost... they were powerful mages. Elementals, blood seers, even a suncaller." He paused. "And they disappeared without a trace. No signs of struggle. No blood. Just... gone."

"You’re still searching?"

"Every day," he said. "We’ve sent parties into the forests, searched abandoned crypts, even turned to seers. Nothing. No tracks. No echoes. It’s like they were swallowed."

I narrowed my eyes. "You know what this sounds like."

He didn’t answer.

Because we both knew.

My gut twisted.

Something was brewing up again and we needed to act fast.

!!!

And that’s when it happened.

The magic in the palace shifted.

It wasn’t a sound, not exactly. More like the stillness between heartbeats suddenly dragged on too long. The enchanted lights around the ballroom dimmed, flickered. Crystalline chandeliers went dark, casting the entire hall in a silvery-blue hue lit only by the outer moonlight.

King Orin and I both stilled, turning our heads toward the great window.

And saw it.

The sky tore open. A gash in the clouds, hovering far above the horizon. And from within that gash... a slit appeared.

A vertical line.

Then a twitch.

And then—

An eye.

Massive.

It opened in a slow blink, wetly. And from it, thick black ichor began to ooze downward, dripping like sap from a broken god. The liquid hung in the air at first, suspended by whatever unnatural force kept the eye open.

A shiver raced down my spine.

Behind me, I heard the distant clatter of goblets dropped in the ballroom. Gasps. Screams. A hush of silence before panic.

Oh no...

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