The Sinful Young Master

Chapter 238 238: Legandary Figures

Jolthar looked at her and then patted drake.

Maelruth moved towards Yilar, who was staring at the drake and Jolthar with confusion in his slit-like eyes.

Hamen warned Jolthar, ”Jolthar, you have to listen to the general.”

No, Jolthar didnʼt listen to them. He didnʼt even consider their words.

He wanted to kill him, and that was it. Yilar had caused trouble for Jolthar for the third time, and he wasnʼt letting him leave.

The drakeʼs neck turned light orange as she breathed in, and then with a swift motion, she breathed out heavy crimson flames; it looked like lava shot out of her mouth.

Iorina didnʼt stop him, and Hamen could only stare at Jolthar, wide-eyed.

The breath lasted only a second—but that second was enough.

Yilar was engulfed in searing flames. His lower body, up to his waist, had been reduced to charred ruin. No, it wasnʼt just burned—it was roasted, blackened, and twisted beyond recognition. The acrid stench of burnt flesh filled the air, thick and nauseating, a scent of death and agony. His exposed muscles pulsed, sizzling under the relentless heat, a grotesque display of raw suffering.

The flames refused to die. They clung to him, crawling up his body like living creatures, their hunger insatiable. Yilarʼs screams tore through the battlefield, a sound of pure torment, the kind that curdled blood and sent shivers down spines.

Jolthar watched in cold silence, his expression unreadable. Hamen stood frozen, his mind struggling to process what he had just witnessed—his ruthlessness, his level of destruction, this merciless power. His surprise knew no bounds.

Iorina, too, was taken aback. Though she had seen countless horrors, there was something about watching a body reduced to smouldering ruin in mere moments that sent a chill through her veins. Her eyes lingered on the inferno, startled, yet unwilling to look away.

And Yilar?

He still burned.

-

Amidst the waning light of battle, Joltharʼs drake, Maelruth—beast of ancient lineage whose scales bore the hue of volcano tempests—unleashed her wrathful flames upon Yilar.

The pale-skinned being, neither of mortal nor common stock, writhed as the fire consumed his flesh.

Though Iorina and Hamen had forbidden such an act with words weighted by authority and wisdom, Jolthar had chosen the path of defiance, his silver snow hair catching the amber light of destruction, eyes reflecting the dance of flames.

As Yilarʼs form blackened beneath the drakeʼs relentless breath, Jolthar turned his gaze upwards as he sensed someone coming.

A roar split the sky, causing all beneath to lift their gaze skyward in both wonder and terror.

Hamen was like, What again? They have been getting surprise after surprise.

There, against clouds turned dark by the night, soared a serpentine beast of ice, its colossal form twisting through the air with impossible grace. Its scales gleamed like the surface of frozen lakes beneath winter moonlight, and upon its ridged back sat a figure shrouded in the darkness; they couldnʼt see her face clearly.

But Joltharʼs brows raised up as she recognized the figure on the dragon, and he even recognized the dragon too. He had met her and also knew her very well.

Hamen Iorina watched with confused eyes as he couldnʼt tell who it was.

It was Raayani, matriarch of the Blue Rose Seraglio, her form as regal as the beast she commanded.

Beside this magnificent creature flew another dragon, lesser in size yet no less fearsome—Reminʼs loyal companion, bound to him through oaths spoken in the language of first creation.

Upon the bloodied ground below, Remin himself approached upon his horse, just entering the meadows. His men followed in his wake, armour still wet with the blood of fallen foes.

The Great Generalʼs approach halted as his gaze swept across the battlefield—a tapestry of carnage and victory.

On one flank stood the imperial soldiers, methodically dispatching the last of the barbarian forces whose invasion had threatened the sacred boundaries of the empire.

On the other flank, he saw the beasts, standing silently, quite in contrast to their nature.

Yet it was to the forestʼs edge that his attention truly turned, where beasts of nightmare had gathered. They stood now in eerie silence, subdued as if bound by invisible chains, their feral eyes fixed upon the horizon as though awaiting the arrival of one whose name they dared not speak.

The serpent dragon descended in a spiralling path of crystalline grace, its massive form settling upon the earth with surprising delicacy. A swift wind swept across the field, making everyone aware of its presence.

Raayani leapt off the dragon and landed on the ground with a thud. The ground where she landed rippled with a grace that would make any man mesmerised.

As its claws touched the ground, a transformation began—scales dissolved into mist of purest white, bones bent and reformed, until where the dragon had been, now stood a woman.

Yoana emerged from this transformation, her eyes still carrying the ancient wisdom of her draconic form. Beside her stood Raayani, her companion, their twin presences pulsing with power older than the empire itself.

Raayani looked around the battlefield, not bothered by the scene of soldiers and men lying dead in blood, a few body parts here and there, and insides spilled here and there; overall, the scene was a gruesome sight.

Raayaniʼs BlueRose was like a separate entity that wouldnʼt be bothered by these wars. She had heard of the war going on in the south, but that was not why she had come here.

Raayaniʼs gaze soon found Jolthar, and strangely, Yoana found him quickly too, and her expression was a mix of complex emotions.

With purposeful strides, they approached Jolthar and the rest, who watched in mingled awe and confusion.

The silver-haired youthʼs hand remained upon Knashiiʼs hilt, curiosity flickering across features too finely crafted for common birth.

Iorina noticed Remin entering the meadows; the soldiers spread out, taking out barbarians.

Remin spurred his mount forward; the horseʼs hooves stomped on the blood-soaked land as he moved to join this gathering.

He noticed Raayani and Yoana beside her, Hamen, who was standing beside Iorina, and lastly, the young man who was adjacent to the dying flames.

Yilar was now ashes, lying on the ground; the space around the spot turned black. Only the legs and hand of Yilar proved his existence, which were lying on the ground before them.

Though he and Jolthar had crossed paths but once before—a fleeting encounter marked by unspoken recognition. He had seen the youth perform outstanding swordsmanship during their last encounter.

Remin, with his men in tow, reached the group in the woods.

As the smoke cleared from Yilarʼs remains, Raayani approached with measured grace, her presence commanding attention.

Despite being in her forties, the Matriarch of the Blue Rose Seraglio possessed an ageless beauty that had ensnared countless hearts across the empire.

Her gaze settled on Jolthar with undisguised interest—she had long harboured desires to make the silver-haired warrior hers, drawn to the mysterious power that emanated from him.

The last encounter had been captivating for her, and as soon as she saw him here, her eyes glittered with surprise and then turned to amusement.

Yoana moved forward with preternatural awareness, her senses—still sharp from her draconic nature—detecting something extraordinary.

From the time she was getting near to the meadows, she had been sensing this vague power of the beast king. At first, she thought it was a mistake, but as she got closer to the battlefield, she couldnʼt deny it.

After she landed, her gaze was focused on one singular point where Jolthar was standing.

As she neared Jolthar, her eyes widened in astonishment.

The familiar aura of the Beast King Naʼrajina pulsed within him, yet the Beast King himself was nowhere to be found.

Her brows furrowed deeply in confusion for a few seconds, but as she looked at him, her eyes turned wider. Comprehension dawned swiftly and terribly—Jolthar had somehow absorbed the Beast Kingʼs power, claiming it as his own. It was the only conclusion she had come to.

Such an achievement should have been impossible, even for one of his lineage. She was aware of his family, the Kaezhlar clan, the fallen goddessʼs family.

While she was in shock, Raayani strode directly towards him. She could sense he had already gotten even more stronger than the last time she saw him.

Tier 8, she thought. She was grinning with desire in her eyes.

”Well, what a delightful surprise to find you here,” Raayani chirped, her voice carrying the melodic quality that had charmed rulers and warriors alike. She approached Jolthar with familiar ease, her movement fluid like water cascading over smooth stone.

”What brings you to this bloodied field, my dear one?”

Hamen watched with surprise again. His breath came in short gasps, and he was feeling dizzy; he stared at the young man and couldnʼt believe that he made him feel this way.

Judging by the way she greeted him, he seems to be familiar with the Matriarch Raayani.

While Iorina just simply watched them. Though a flicker of surprise crossed her eyes seeing Raayani here.

She personally knew Raayani, while for Hamen was meeting her for the first time up this close.

Jolthar, still standing over Yilarʼs smouldering remains, turned the question back upon her. ”I might ask the same of you, Matriarch.”