The Monster Capital’s great square had not quieted since the wolf war-chief’s collapse. His last word—dragon—still hung in the air, carried on the whispers and howls of thousands. The roar of it reached the mountain peak where the King’s Hall sat carved into stone, black pillars etched with veins of gold that pulsed faint light.
Inside, the four dukes had gathered already. Their auras filled the hall, heavy and old. The Azure Phoenix’s wings curled in tight flame, each breath spilling embers that never touched the floor. The White Tiger prowled along the right dais, his tail slamming against the pillars with every step, teeth bared. The Black Tortoise remained still, half of its massive shell hidden in shadow, eyes steady as deep water. The Vermilion Serpent coiled along the far wall, coils rising higher than towers, tongue flicking as its scales glimmered faint red.
At the center, on his throne of obsidian wide enough to hold his bulk, the Dragon King stirred. His scales burned dark crimson trimmed in black, each one catching the torchlight like forged blades. His mane of spines rattled faint with his breath. The news had reached him before the wolf’s corpse had cooled, and he had not spoken since.
Now his eyes opened fully—two suns spilling molten light across the hall.
"Two nations," he rumbled. His voice shook the stone, low but heavy, each word a weight no one could ignore. "Taragon the Lion. Fenral the Wolf. Both gone."
The Tiger’s roar shook the chamber. "I do not believe it! Taragon stood at Beta, his pride bound in wards older than this age. Fenral was no weaker. Yet both are ash. If a dragon truly walks the earth, why now? Why strike them?"
The Serpent hissed, its coils shifting, scraping stone. "Because he wants us afraid. And it works."
The Phoenix flared its wings, its voice sharp as flame. "Fear is wasted breath. Dragons do not move without cause. This one—whoever he is—he is making war. Against us."
The Tortoise blinked once, slow, voice deep as rivers. "And if it is one of our own? Not an enemy. A traitor."
The chamber stilled. The dukes’ gazes shifted as one toward the throne.
The Dragon King lowered his head, his fangs bared in a grin that was not a smile. "Not one of mine. I know the blood that walks this world. If a dragon stands against us, then it is no son of mine." His claws flexed, carving grooves into the obsidian. "But dragon or not... he has touched my throne."
The Tiger lashed his tail again. "Then give the word, and we march! Let every nation rise, let every claw tear him apart!"
The Phoenix cut him short, voice sharp. "Blind fury will burn more nations than he. We must see. We must know which dragon, from where, and why. Taragon’s wards were broken like glass. Fenral’s aura was smothered under flame. If this one can kill kings, then our packs and hordes are nothing but kindling."
The Serpent hissed again, eyes narrowing. "So what? We cower? Wait for him to strike again?"
The Phoenix’s feathers flared brighter. "We hunt him. On our terms. Not his."
The Dragon King’s wings shifted, scraping stone, the sound like mountains grinding. The torches bent toward him, their silver flames dimming under the weight of his aura. His voice cut through the quarrel like a blade.
Silence fell heavy. Even the Serpent coiled tighter, its hiss swallowed.
The King’s eyes burned hotter. "You speak as if we are prey. You forget what throne you kneel beneath." He leaned forward, the full weight of his gaze pressing on them until even the Tiger lowered his head. "We are monsters. Born of claw, fang, and fire. We are the ones the world calls nightmare. And now a nightmare dares to challenge us."
His claws dug deeper into the dais. "Then we remind him what monsters are."
The Tortoise’s voice rumbled, cautious. "And how do we strike him, when we do not know where he walks?"
The Dragon King’s gaze turned, sweeping each of them in turn. "You will find him. Phoenix, your fire scouts the skies—smoke cannot hide him. Tiger, your packs will scour the plains and forests. Serpent, send your coils through the rivers and dunes. Tortoise, you will guard the seas—if he dares step across them, he will not surface."
The Phoenix bowed its head, flames dimming. "And if we find him?"
The Dragon King’s grin widened, cruel. "Then you hold him until I arrive. His flames will not match mine. His claws will not scar me. If he is dragon, then I will tear his name from him and show this world there is only one king." Discover more novels at N0velFire.ɴet
The Tiger growled low, nodding. "At last. A war worth blood."
The Serpent’s tongue flicked, slow. "And if he is not dragon?"
The King’s voice thundered. "Then he dies all the same."
The torches along the hall guttered, then flared bright, silver flames reaching high. The roar of the city below rose faint, thousands of monsters howling in unison, the echo of the war-chief’s news still spreading.
The Dragon King’s eyes narrowed, his voice low now, almost quiet—but it carried sharper than his roar.
"He thinks himself fire. He thinks himself teeth. Let him burn. Let him bite. In the end, he will kneel."
The dukes bowed, each in their way—the Phoenix with folded wings, the Tiger lowering his head, the Tortoise blinking deep assent, the Serpent’s coils lowering to the floor.
The Dragon King leaned back into his throne, smoke curling from his jaws.
"Spread word to every nation," he commanded. "The hunt begins."
The hall trembled with the sound of it, the mountain itself echoing the promise.
And far beyond, the fire on the horizon still glowed, marking where wolves had howled their last.
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