Chapter 38: The Dragon’s Black Hole

“Run for your lives!” someone screams.

“The dragon… it’s opening its mouth!” a guard yells.

“Black hole!” the dragon roars. “Everything within 100 kilometers will be sucked in!”

“Everyone, get to safety!” a soldier shouts.

“Hold your ground!” Notze calls out calmly. “Do not panic!”

The crowd screams louder. People stumble, pushing each other. The dragon spreads its wings, its roar shaking the air.

“I am the last who holds the blonde form of the 39th-generation dragon,” Notze says. “Let me tell you how it all began.”

He pauses, eyes scanning the terrified crowd. “Thousands of years ago, my ancestors were removed from this country by force. Much had changed. They vowed to restore the one who controls everything and honor the Dagon.”

“Long live the Dagon!” the crowd cheers.

“Stop acting like you’re some big shot!” a man shouts from the back.

Four guards appear behind him. “Come with us,” they ordered. The man struggles but is dragged away.

“Notze!” someone calls as more people are taken.

“I am your king from this day forth,” Notze declares. “Anyone who opposes me will face death!”

The crowd falls silent.

“Bring them in,” Notze says. Thirteen blindfolded people are led forward. The 13th arrives missing a hand.

“Hold it! No one leaves!” a guard yells. “You, follow me,” he says to a man trying to escape.

“What have I done?” the man mutters, crawling to the stage.

“These people have opposed me,” Notze says. “They will die.”

The fourteen guards step forward, cutting the men’s throats. The crowd screams, some clap, some cry.

“We have lived as if we didn’t exist,” Notze continues. “But that ends now.”

“Notze… you’re wrong,” an old man says, stepping forward. “You’re never right in this matter.”

Notze smiles. “Ah, my friend. Have a seat with me.”

The old man walks proudly forward, then freezes. “My son…!” he shouts, seeing a body on the ground.

“What’s the matter?” Notze asks.

“They… they’re dead…” the old man whispers, collapsing to the floor.

“Come, let’s celebrate my victory,” Notze says, annoyed. “Why aren’t you moving?”

“You… these bodies…” the old man mutters. “You and I… what are you thinking?”

Notze steps down from the stage, frustrated.

“Asram!” he says.

Asram glares, eyes burning. He punches Notze hard in the face. Notze staggers backward, shock spreading across his features.

“Draw your swords!” a soldier yells.

“Fire, water, air, earth, come forth!” another shouts.

“Why attack him? He treated you like a son!” someone calls.

“You’re right… Osalva,” Asram says quietly.

“Enough! Stop!” Osalva commands. “Knights, sheathe your swords! Mages, halt your spells!”

“Dishonor!” a knight shouts, refusing. Others follow suit.

“Fine, just put your swords away,” Osalva says, glaring at Asram. “Now tell me… why attack the king?”

“He killed my son!” Asram shouts.

“Who is your son?” Osalva asks.

“That man they took away for no reason!” Asram points.

Notze stirs, confused. “I… I never gave that order. I only selected 13 people…”

“I am not the one,” Asram says firmly.

“Everyone, stop!” Osalva shouts. “Lower your weapons!”

The soldiers and mages freeze.

“I am sorry,” Notze says, voice trembling. “I thought I was in control…”

“You made a mistake,” Asram says. “But this ends here. My son… my blood… was taken. I cannot forgive that.”

“Then what now?” a guard whispers.

“We survive,” Osalva says. “And we make sure this chaos does not destroy everyone here.”

Notze nods, still weak from the punch. “I… I understand now. I never meant for any of this to happen.”

Asram looks around, anger still burning, but his focus softens. “I am not the enemy. Only the traitors are.”

The dragon roars again above them, but the focus has shifted. The living, the dead, the betrayed, all stand frozen, watching the tension between king, father, and defender unfold.

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