Chapter 34: Caine’s Ambition

The cold wind swept through the capital of Nevantrax as the faint tremor beneath the earth refused to fade.
Inside the ancient library’s dim hall, Kanata’s golden eyes quietly studied Jeanne, who stood before him with that same unshakable composure she always had.

“Jeanne,” Kanata said at last, his tone firm. “It’s time you tell us who you really are.”

For a long moment, Jeanne didn’t move. The faint light of the candles flickered against her silver armor. Then she exhaled slowly, her voice low but steady.

“I was supposed to be the rightful successor to the throne.”
Her gaze fell to the floor. “But my family was betrayed—overthrown in a coup—and executed one by one.”

Everyone froze. Even the air felt heavier. Jeanne’s words carried the weight of years of loss and resentment.

“Caine,” she continued, bitterness seeping into her voice, “was the one who led it all. He wanted power—absolute power. To him, anyone who stood in his way was an obstacle to be erased.”

Aine clenched her fists. “So he silenced the people…”

“Yes.” Jeanne nodded grimly. “Those who opposed him vanished. Entire families disappeared overnight. That’s why no one in Nevantrax dares to resist. And even if someone tries…”
She looked up, eyes burning. “…they vanish too.”

Kanata’s brow furrowed. “What made him this way?”

“I don’t know,” Jeanne admitted softly. “But whatever humanity he had is long gone. Now, he seeks to become a god.”

The words hit Kanata like a hammer.
Become a god.

Jeanne went on, her tone sharp with anger.
“To achieve that, he broke the ancient pact with the Dragons. He slaughtered them and stole their power. That’s why I took the golden spear—to end him with it.”

She reached into her cloak and drew the weapon. The faint reflection of the spear’s tip glowed like molten sunlight.

“Before the coup, there was a prophecy,” she said, her voice trembling for the first time. “It foretold that I would slay Caine and end his tyranny. But that prophecy was burned—and rewritten.”
Her expression darkened. “Now, the people think I’m the villain. They call me a traitor.”

Silence filled the hall. Even the sound of distant thunder felt muted.

Jeanne lowered herself to one knee, bowing deeply before Kanata.
“Because of the spell Destiny, Caine can manipulate fate itself. He bends people’s wills, their memories, their entire lives. That spell must be destroyed—before he reshapes the world into his own twisted image.”
Her voice cracked slightly. “I don’t know your name, stranger, but I beg you… please destroy that cursed magic.”

Kanata’s eyes narrowed. For a moment, he said nothing.
“This isn’t my fight,” he muttered. “I don’t care about royal feuds.”

But the memory of the red and white dragons—slain and cursed—flashed before his mind.
The power of Caine’s ambition was something even a dragon couldn’t withstand.

Kanata clenched his bandaged right hand.
“…Fine. I’ll do it.”
Jeanne looked up in disbelief as he continued,
“But once this is over, I want nothing more to do with your family or your throne.”

A faint smile touched her lips. “That’s enough.”

The ground rumbled violently. The walls of the ancient library shuddered as a roar unlike anything human tore through the air.
Outside, the sky above Nevantrax turned crimson-black, lightning coiling like serpents across the horizon.

“What’s happening?” Aine gasped, clutching her staff.

Jeanne’s face turned pale. “He’s losing control…”

In the heart of the royal capital, Caine stood atop the marble balcony, his eyes glowing gold and crimson.
Veins of energy crawled beneath his skin—until scales burst forth, spreading down his arms, his neck, his entire body.

“So this is… the price of divinity?”
He spread his arms, his laughter echoing through the night.
“Fine then. If this is what it takes to become a god—SO BE IT!”

The transformation consumed him. His bones cracked, his wings tore through his back, and his body twisted into the form of a black dragon—colossal, ancient, and monstrous.
Its roar shattered the clouds, sending shockwaves across the city.

“He’s turned into a dragon…!” Jeanne whispered. “The Black Dragon—Uroboros.”

Panic erupted across the capital. People screamed, fleeing as buildings trembled. The knights—once sworn to protect the throne—now turned their blades against their own king.

Jeanne drew her spear and barked an order, her voice slicing through the chaos.
“Commander Greg! Evacuate the civilians immediately! I don’t care what caste they are—get them all out of here!”

“Y-yes, Your Highness!” Greg answered, saluting before rallying his troops.
The army began forming protective barriers, guiding terrified families toward safety.

Kanata stepped forward, feeling the pulse of energy radiating from the monstrous dragon. His heart pounded.
Even from this distance, the pressure alone nearly forced him to his knees.

He could sense the same overwhelming presence that once belonged to Obsidian—only this time, darker. Hungrier.

He gritted his teeth.
“So this is your ambition, Caine…?”
His hand trembled slightly, the bandages around it glowing faintly. “Then I’ll show you mine.”

As Jeanne and her forces charged toward the city walls, Kanata’s right arm burned—black and red sigils crawling beneath the wrappings.

Lightning streaked across the sky, splitting the heavens in two.

And then—
a roar louder than thunder tore through the capital once more, shaking the earth itself.

To Be Continued…