I Died and Became a Noble's Heir

Chapter 533: Dragon’s Meeting

Jack’s eyes closed as his consciousness reached for the connection that bound him to his physical form.

The white space began dissolving around him, reality reasserting itself as he prepared to return.

But before the transition was completed, a new presence manifested.

Emberion materialized from an unknown origin, his substantial form appearing with a nonchalant confidence that defined his every action.

The Slag King’s scales glowed with internal heat, making the white space shimmer, magma flowing between obsidian plates.

Jack’s consciousness completed its departure, leaving three dragons alone in the soul space between physical reality and the spiritual dimension.

Emberion observed Drakon with an intense gaze, a calculated assessment tempered by an unusual degree of respect that superseded his typical disdain for those he considered inferior.

"Drakon the Scourge," Emberion’s voice carried heat that made the air itself feel scorched. "It’s been centuries since we last spoke."

"Emberion the Slag King," Drakon acknowledged, his raspy voice carrying amusement and disappointment. "And Tharaxis the Great Paradox. Two of the most powerful dragons in existence, bound to a human Soul Warden who doesn’t understand half of what he’s inherited."

His eyes blazed brighter, ancient frustration bleeding into his tone.

"When do you plan to tell the boy?"

Tharaxis and Emberion exchanged glances, some unspoken communication passing between them that required no verbal articulation.

"We have no intention of telling him," Tharaxis replied simply, his golden eyes tracking Drakon’s massive form with absolute calm.

"Unless he asks directly. And even then, we’ll answer only what’s specifically questioned rather than volunteering information that would complicate his development."

Emberion’s volcanic gaze fixed on Drakon with intensity that made the white space feel hotter.

"The boy needs to discover truth on his own terms, in his own time. Forcing revelation before he’s ready would do more harm than good. Better he grows into understanding naturally rather than having it thrust upon him prematurely."

Drakon’s laugh emerged as a deep rumble that made the soul space tremble.

"You’re playing with fire," his raspy voice carried a warning that transcended simple advice into prophecy. "If you do not tell him, events will just repeat themselves. Or worse... He’ll return for Sarin."

The name had a profound impact, leaving both Tharaxis and Emberion uneasy despite their considerable stature and influence.

Drakon observed both dragons with a profound sense of disdain, a sentiment that extended beyond mere disappointment to the brink of outright revulsion.

"Emberion the Slag King. The great magma dragon who served Malakai with unwavering loyalty, who witnessed the fall of gods and the rise of new pantheons. And Tharaxis the Great Paradox. The fallen dragon god who watched his brother die, who used to live inside Malakai himself and understands better than anyone what’s at stake."

His massive head swung between them, frustration bleeding into every word.

"I’m distraught at the lack of resolve you both display. You know what he is, understand what he’ll become, recognize the patterns repeating themselves across generations. Yet you choose silence over truth, secrecy over revelation, hoping that ignorance will somehow protect him from destiny that’s already written."

Tharaxis’s golden eyes dimmed fractionally, genuine regret visible in ancient depths.

"He will be fine when the time comes," the Paradox Dragon stated with conviction. "His blood is strong. Stronger than you give him credit for. He’ll survive what’s coming because that’s what his bloodline does. Survives impossibility and emerges transformed."

Emberion’s volcanic gaze blazed brighter in agreement.

"We will live with whatever consequences emerge from this choice. Because when he discovers the truth, and he will discover it eventually, he’ll rebuild whatever he destroys in his rage. That’s who he is. Destroyer and creator, ending and beginning, death and rebirth."

Drakon’s intensified aura caused a noticeable decrease in the temperature of the soul space, notwithstanding the heat emanating from Emberion.

"He’ll go crazy when he finds out," Drakon’s raspy voice carried certainty that transcended prediction into prophecy. "And by that time, he’ll be much stronger than he is now. Strong enough to destroy entire nations if his rage demands it. What’s to stop him from burning the world down when truth finally crashes through whatever illusions you’re maintaining?"

Tharaxis and Emberion remained silent for a long moment, the weight of Drakon’s question settling between them.

"We will live with that consequence," Tharaxis ultimately responded, his tone conveying resignation. "Because he will rebuild whatever he destroys. That is his nature. To tear down what’s broken and construct something better from the ruins."

Drakon’s massive form shifted, his scales absorbing light as ancient frustration bled into his final statement.

"You may live to regret that decision. Should he return, the assistance of either The Shattered Kings, The Primal Monoliths, or The Celestial Archons will be needed. Only through their intervention can his fury be assuaged and his destiny fulfilled."

The soul space began dissolving as the conversation reached its natural conclusion, three ancient dragons returning to their respective vessels, with warnings and prophecies unresolved in the space between reality and the spiritual dimension.

Jack’s consciousness snapped back into his physical form with a sensation like falling into cold water.

His eyes opened to find himself still standing, his forehead pressed against Alaric’s, the Duke’s purple eyes staring him down with a concern that transcended simple parental worry into concern for his son’s mental well-being.

Jack disengaged, his heterochromatic gaze reflecting a newfound comprehension mingled with an undeniable sadness as he observed his father’s countenance.

"Where was that?" Jack asked, though he already knew the answer.

"The inside of my soul," Alaric confirmed, his tone carrying none of the emotion that Jack was struggling to contain.

"Dragon contractors can facilitate meetings between bound entities when circumstances warrant. Drakon rarely agrees to such encounters, but Tharaxis is an old friend. That relationship apparently warranted an exception."

Jack’s jaw clenched, his right hand curling into a fist as he processed what he’d learned in that white space. His father was dying.

Slowly, sacrificing his remaining lifespan to make a statement about Kaiser’s legacy that transcended simple family pride into something approaching divine mandate.

"You should return home," Jack’s voice carried emotion he couldn’t quite suppress, genuine concern bleeding through. "Spend time with the family. See your daughters get married before you part this world."

The declaration resonated between them, both intimate and profound, acknowledging a mortality Alaric had meticulously veiled beneath a facade of purple eyes and an air of casual authority.

Alaric’s expression shifted.

Surprise flickered across his features before being replaced by something approaching playful resignation.

"Drakon told you, didn’t he?"

Jack nodded, not trusting his voice to remain steady if he attempted a verbal response.

"It matters not," Alaric declared. "What will happen, will happen. Delaying the inevitable through cautious behavior serves no purpose beyond prolonging suffering."

Jack opened a portal beside him for his father.

"It will be okay," Jack announced. "Because the only person here who can kill me won’t."

"And if push came to shove," Jack added, his tone shifting into something darker, "I have ways to kill him if I’m willing to sacrifice certain things. Victory is always possible when you’re prepared to pay its cost."

He stepped through the portal without a farewell.

"You’d better hurry, for if you die too early, we both know Mother will bring you back to torture you herself," Jack announced.

A chill ran down his spine as he thought about what Lady Genevieve might do.

The gateway sealed behind him with a soft pop of displaced air, leaving Jack alone with his thoughts and the assembled forces waiting for direction.

The soft expression Jack had maintained during the conversation with his father vanished instantly.

His gaze returned to Magnus, the masked figure still standing between Warren and Mira.

Determining their destiny by way of jury and executioner.