The castle had changed.

  What was once a royal residence had become a private command space for heroes and appointed commanders. Decisions were no longer debated openly. They were announced, stamped, and enforced.

  Around the long table, the heroes worked as usual.

  Blaze stood near the window, arms crossed.

  Alister sat amid scattered notes and tools.

  Marcella read in silence—until she struck the table with her palm.

  “I found something,” she said, unable to hide her satisfaction. “Ancient records. Devices meant to locate not just a person—but their true identity.”

  She looked toward Blaze with a faint smile.

  “Forget chasing beasts and rumors. We can find Roy directly.”

  Alister’s eyes sharpened immediately. “Devices?” he asked. “Are any intact? Local? Foreign?”

  Marcella shook her head. “None survived. But the blueprints did. And the materials list.”

  Alister exhaled, pleased. “Even better.”

  Blaze finally spoke.

  “Do you remember the first anomaly?” he asked. “The day our system flagged an unknown entity. A dragon aura.”

  The room stilled.

  “The system labeled it unclassified,” Blaze continued. “That alone should worry you.”

  Marcella and Alister exchanged glances and shook their heads.

  Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  Blaze turned and left the room.

  The meeting with the kings was brief—and unforgettable.

  Blaze stood before them, posture relaxed, voice measured.

  “My dear kings,” he said, “are there records of true dragons stored within your treasuries that were not disclosed during our earlier councils?”

  Silence followed.

  Blaze smiled faintly.

  “If such records exist,” he continued, “hand them over. Dragons are assets—or materials. Nothing more.”

  A murmur spread.

  Blaze’s eyes hardened.

  “If you attempt to hide them,” he said calmly, “I will personally send you, your families, and your kingdoms to heaven together.”

  Shock rippled across the chamber.

  Some kings clenched their fists.

  Some paled.

  Some broke into cold sweat.

  This was not protection.

  This was extortion wrapped in divine authority.

  “Sacrifices are inevitable,” Blaze went on. “What matters is the future. You’ve all seen the massacres—animals, villages, people—reshaped by what we call God’s grace.”

  Several kings flinched.

  Not at the threat—

  —but at how casually human lives were reduced to acceptable loss.

  Blaze turned away.

  “This meeting is adjourned. Submit all records before the next council.”

  As they left, some kings looked back once.

  Others did not.

  More than one would regret, for the rest of their lives, ever placing faith in heroes.

  When Blaze returned to the inner chambers, his agents brought troubling news.

  Roy Val Drake had disappeared.

  No sightings.

  No trails.

  No lingering aura.

  Blaze’s jaw tightened.

  “Increase pressure,” he ordered. “Quietly.”

  Days later, Alister completed the device.

  A towering mirror reinforced with layered runes and holy materials stood in a sealed chamber. Marcella and Blaze joined him as the system activated.

  Marcella stepped forward. “Find him,” she said coldly. “Chain him.”

  The surface rippled.

  An image formed—

  Magma.

  Underground rivers of fire. Heavy. Ancient.

  The image distorted violently, then shattered.

  They tested again.

  Other identities resolved instantly.

  Locations locked cleanly.

  Even their own reflections verified without error.

  Only Roy returned distortion.

  Silence followed.

  Fear crept in—not sudden, not loud.

  The fear of the unknown.

  Blaze felt frustration burn hotter than fear.

  Pressure shifted outward.

  Ragnar received inspections. Requests framed as cooperation. Officials asking the same questions with different seals.

  His answers never changed.

  Roy had left.

  No destination.

  No trail.

  Days passed.

  The danger did not sleep.