A Dragon Idol's Reincarnation Tale

“Was it actually that poisonous to you, Son?” Michalik, the younger brother of the current Dragon Ruler of Sacred Nest, asked his now dragonized son, eyeing his white-golden child with a suppressed fatherly care.

No matter how violent or brutal a true dragonkin was, the way they treated others would seldomly be similar to how they would treat their own child, or at least, what they perceived to be their child. Whether male or female, both parents were instinctively drawn to care for their young and to be there to protect and educate them.

While dragon mothers were infamously known to be overprotective of their child to a fault, dragon fathers were drawn towards their growths and training. Like a strict teacher fully determined to train their students, dragon fathers would assure stable environments for their young to grow up and develop the skills needed to be a dragon of their lineage.

The fathers would patrol day and night around their territory, assuring nothing could possibly endanger their family and nest. They would hunt food to ensure their child would gain the nutrients or minerals needed for their mana and organs to adapt to their skillset. Eating was equally as important to a young monster’s evolution path as was their development of specific skills.

Although some dragon fathers weren’t the best in showing their child their affection, the majority adored them. With their low birth rate, dragons couldn’t help but cherish their hatchlings, even after the latter had fully grown up into adults.

It was simply instincts.

“Terrible …” Sanzaphon complained as he touched his stomach, still feeling the recoil of his body expelling the demonic energy from his body. He could feel his organs complaining about his recklessness, and this wasn’t even mentioning how much it destabilized his mana flow. “This definitely wasn’t the type of constitution that I was told I should have from those elves and fairies. Any disturbance feels like going into Dusk Nest’s shrouded undergrounds.”

“Son …” Michalik frowned, unable to look away at the small patches of purple on his body, treating each one like the blisters of a human child infected with chickenpox.

The third and youngest child of the former Dragon Ruler of Light, Yngvaldr—Michalik did feel ashamed that his only son would possibly never live up to what the other members of his clan would expect from someone of Yngvaldr’s lineage. The white-golden splendor of their scales were matchless in beauty compared to the other holy dragons, and while Sanzaphon possessed those mesmerizing scales, they were flimsy … easily breakable by even newly evolved rank B.

He stared at his short son, begrudgingly accepting the fact he would remain a rank B for the rest of his life. He was over 400 years old, but it was likely he would outlive his only child with his partner. The pair had made their peace with it and so did Sanzaphon after he returned from his adulthood pilgrimage.The Corruption Eater did not possess the killer instincts of a normal dragon, causing him to spend over 100 years until his pilgrimage ended. It was a time span long enough that most dragon parents would assume their child had perished on their travels if Sanzaphon hadn’t periodically sent them letters to update his status. Yet, they couldn’t be happy about it, as most of it documented his travels as an artist.

Moving from country to country, Sanzaphon perfectly hid his existence as a dragonkin to all the friends he had made, using the fact most humans didn’t know how the church of Aurena in Loatrxy and Kargryx actually worked. Similarly to Hestia, he traveled as a holy cleric, healing people here and there for funds to pursue his craft as an artist, sculptor, and connoisseur of the jewels.

He only really had to eat when he ran out of funds completely, to the point he would waste countless amounts of Davi to buy the most random pieces to inspire him to paint or to use expensive jewels to create coloring. Sanzaphon would do everything for his craft. His pilgrimage was one of learning and self-improvement, as Eltharion expected when he institutionalized it.

However, to most dragons, what Sanzaphon did was a waste. It was important to learn and improve oneself for the sake of their clan’s future, but using it primarily to develop their artistic skill was wasteful. Even if numerous dragonkin had appreciated and even bought one of Sanzaphon’s products, Sacred Nest could not grant him any praises for it.

To them, he was the runt—the broken fang—of the proud and mighty Yngvaldr clan that had ruled their home since Kargryxmor first founded Kargryx.

Yet, to his parents, Sanzaphon was simply their sweet child.

“Do not despair, Brother!” Galiladrak patted his younger brother’s shoulder with his wings, smiling widely as he strutted back into Sanzaphon’s room after he saw Hestia off. “Your son did something magnificent! Our clan benefited from his choice of evolution, and you should be happy for it! To all those naysayers; look at him! He allowed us to gain a debt on Princess Hestia!”

Michalik did not let his disapproval escape. He wanted to confront his brother on what he said, that he too was part of the “naysayers” even if he hadn’t said it directly to his face. Michalik remembered those eyes he would cast on his son and to him: Pity. Sanzaphon had his own room like every other member of the clan, but had his elder brother ever visited his son for anything but to request his powers?

“Sanzaphon, my impeccable nephew!” Galiladrak stroked his tail against his nephew’s, a gesture similar to a familial kiss or hug between relatives. “Good work. Without you, we wouldn’t have been able to do this! Finally, our clan and nest has the chance to circumvent that terrible mistake our eldest sister performed due to her impatience. We can finally take a foot out of our hiding holes if we can make Princess Hestia rely on us.”

“We did not manage to cleanse [Providence’s Will], Brother,” Michalik said, dampening Galiladrak’s mood slightly.

Moving away from Sanzaphon, the Dragon Ruler of Light strutted around the cavern, inspecting the various pieces of “art” underneath him. “Yes, sadly. We were unable to gain what we needed to fuel ourselves with the residue of a primarch of the holy element. Chasing power surely might not be the path forward, but who would have guessed that Her Highness would choose compassion over easy to gain power? Then again, maybe something in the skies interfered?”

He looked up to the ceiling, thinking, A god should guide, yet all I can see is interference. You grasp for straws to your problems, Kargryxmor. We are doing this for your granddaughter and Champion! Sacred Nest will support her, yet, you distrust us like everybody else. A pity.

He lowered his eyes back to his nephew. “However, it is simply a small setback. Nothing more. To stubbornly fly forward without acknowledging the line we shouldn’t cross is how our sister failed us, Michalik. Her greed, impatience, and lack of foresight was the reason for her death. She did not listen to us, so she had to fall before our clan got wiped by Eltharion.”

A chill ran down Galiladrak’s spine as he remembered the Kargryxian civil war and the destruction his dragon emperor would leave behind. His ferocity knew no bounds when it came to fighting those he deemed enemies, but even in the midst of the plasma-creating heat, Galiladrak could see the sincerity and kindness the Scion of the Black Tyrant could grant to those he loved and respected.

His siblings, the betrayers of his trust, were all given clemency despite all they had done to break Kargryx with their greed, ambition, and impatience. The ash and cinders of the ruined earth during this age weep tears of despair as [Battle Frenzy] deigned the land with conflict, bringing pandemonium even fiercer than normal on this dragon-infested continent.

Galiladrak was no stranger to the pain of having to face the tyrant children of Kargryxmor, nor would he like to ever witness the might of a rank S Kargryxmor spawn ever again. He feared Eltharion. He feared that his first born would one day turn into another monster, quenching that ambition he once shared with his elder sister.

Lucieliark … Dragon Ruler of Light, Lucieliark, the eldest of the Yngvaldr children. The Temptress of Kargryxmor’s second-born, Inrikk, and the instigator of the Kargryxian Civil War … A fellow admirer of Eltharion, similar to the six dragon empresses, yet instead of following alongside him as the six, Lucieliark allowed her envy and selfishness to cloud her judgement. She would not allow Eltharion to have any other admirer but her.

Driven by this anger, she antagonized any dragoness who approached Eltharion, scaring off a few but was unsuccessful with others. Gyadiosa, Gaistrus, Forminaxtrass, Virrflax, Yuilengreill, and Melloxtressa—each came to meet Eltharion in their own ways and while they weren’t as fond of each other as they were now, their bond grew due to Lucieliark’s constant pestering, disputes, and sabotage. A rift was not created between these rivals, instead, their bond strengthened until it solidified during the civil war when all six came to the support of Eltharion.

Disillusioned by Eltharion’s lack of fondness for her, Lucieliark pounced on the second best option—his younger, less willful, brother. Love changed to ambition. Ambition resulted in violence. To raise her clan’s name to prominence and put a holy dragon on the throne—her child—Lucieliark performed the greatest crime to the Dragon Empire of Kargryx and is now a shunned name amongst its denizens.

With long lives and great memory, the true dragonkin of Kargryx would never forget the sins and wounds Sacred Nest had engraved onto Miononbolax.

“We are fortunate that Eltharion had instilled into his children the value of kinship. The bond between the siblings is the difference that will prevent something similar to the civil war. We have to assure that, Michalik,”—he stared at his younger brother, not a sign of love to see, only cold expectations—“The civil war must not result in any of them dying. Only then can the Yngvaldr name be etched into the dynasty of the Kargryxmor, and allow a holy dragon to be part of that family!”

Unlike dragon parents who would show proper affection to their direct descendants, it was different for siblings. Rivalry and competition was an innate instinct to dragons, especially so amongst those born through monster spawning, requiring proper education and guidance during the whelpling years for a dragon to override it.

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As such, love for one’s siblings and cousins, or even uncle, aunts, and grandparents, wasn’t something a young dragonkin would feel naturally. The bond of kinship a hatchling would feel towards their parent was due to the nurturing attitude of the latter, and this was the foundation for the child to learn respect for their elders, love for blood relatives, and loyalty to friends and superiors.

To those without a parent, being forced to fight for their survival, love was a luxury. Kargryxmor and Inferatsa, both born as feral wild dragons, learned the concept of genuine care for each other only once Eltharion was born. Even the Black Tyrant of the Skies could not maintain his aggression when he first carried his young son through his domain, teaching and showing the fragile hatchling, not even the size of his smallest tooth, the beauty of the world.

“It won’t be this generation, maybe not even the next, but one day, a holy dragon will take the throne. Unlike our sister, we will do it slowly, avoiding the next ‘Eltharion’ until our clan brings the next one to the world.” Galiladrak slowly moved towards Sanzaphon, lowering his neck to look his nephew in the eyes. “My dear nephew, tell me—did your little slimes absorb Her Highness’s mana?”

Sanzaphon looked at his uncle, feeling ill as he could feel his scales rattling from his shivering body. He nodded slowly, unwilling to complain how he was the one to force Sanzaphon to drain Vifi’s demonic mana, all so Galiladrak could speak with the Dragon Ruler of Ice.

The mana dragon moved towards the entrance and began to dig out some glowing quartz from the ground, similar in appearance to the ones lighting up the mountain cavern like chandeliers. [Divine Quartz] was a natural resource that could only be found on Sacred Nest due to the concentration of holy mana and dragon energy molding the quartz in the earth.

Aside from its ability to light up like a flashlight or lightbulb, it also absorbed holy mana in high quantities to maintain itself. Without enough of it, the quartz would simply break like euorinium, too brittle to exist normally. However, adding the quartz to alchemical concoctions or smithing operations would circumvent this characteristic while granting the resulting item some of its effects.

In this case, the quartz left at the entrance had absorbed Hestia’s mana and with Sanzaphon’s ability to isolate specific mana types, he could produce a gel that only contained it. Normally, this would be all that could be done, which was why Taimatrak did not warn Hestia about it.

Aside from being creepy, possessing some of Hestia’s leftover mana that her body naturally exuded was a non-issue, as it wouldn’t possess anything divine about it. You wouldn’t be able to extract any mana from Aurena or Kargryxmor from them, in other words.

“Good.” Galiladrak smiled as he held the piece of gel with his scales, carefully bringing it with him as he left his brother and nephew behind without saying another word.

He walked through the tunnel until he reached another cavern entrance. Equally as decorated as the rest of the rooms, there was one difference to Sanzaphon’s and his room, though, and that was the dragon residing here was sleeping.

“I have a gift for you.” Galiladrak approached the dragon and left the slime right next to their slumbering nose. “You should get to know the scent of her well, for she will become your partner one day. Your lack of courtship has been worrying me over these years, but I guess it has been a blessing in disguise. She still needs more years to become an adult, but it is a trifling amount of time to allow you two to get to know each other better … So, wake up soon.”

He turned around, leaving the dragon to sleep.

“My son.”

***

“You need to make a stance for yourself, or this will continue to break down to the point we cannot escape the civil war,” Kahalameet demanded with a forceful voice, sitting uncomfortably on the chair as he stared at the woman in front of him. “Wendriosa.”

The children of Gyadiosa stared at each other. With nothing placed on the table but water, the two could do nothing but speak and quench their dried mouths.

“There is a limit to how much I can endure our relatives. Enough to not direct my anger at them, but that stopped when they started to attack Frozen Nest. Your supporters wish to force our youngest sibling into this succession war. Our Hestia, a young whelpling that still knows how to dream properly is being endangered by our fighting.” He squinted his eyes. “So, I ask you this, Wendriosa: Where do we stop and where do we fight? Set the line now so we can end this sooner than later.”

“Where do we stop the fight? Ha … you know it will not even stop when you become a rank S, Brother. Your followers believe this will secure your place, but … I’ve lost control over my followers.”

Two days after Kahalameet left the Frozen Nest, the first prince held up his words to Hestia and brought his younger sister to the table. This would not be a discussion between an older brother and a younger sister like he had with Hestia, but one between the first prince and the first princess, both viable candidates for the throne with their respective support base.

Here at the table, he stared at his sister with a questioning look, scrutinizing her eyes, expressions, and words. He needed to understand his sister’s current thoughts and where she stood amongst her followers, as his next words would be determined by them.

Although he didn’t fully accept Hestia’s ideals, her words did elucidate him on one topic.

“I know, and we’ve heard. The leader … Our aunt, was it not? She was killed by the new leviathan leader, correct?” Kahalameet asked, causing Wendriosa to frown. “You’ve always been desperate to find a way onto the ‘game board.’ Kargryx’s citizen see me as Father’s ‘clone,’ while they see you as our mother’s. It doesn’t help that the color scheme of our scales are so different from each other, where you have more streaks of blue while mine are black.”

“… Have you drunk prior to this discussion, or why are you speaking so differently, Brother?” Wendriosa grimaced.

“I am speaking to you like a prince, right now. That means, I will not hold my words back just to make you feel good, Wendriosa. If you want to come onto the ‘board,’ then I will treat you like someone who will play it. Did you not always want me to treat you like this?”

“Ha, a little bit too late, my dear brother. Too late … like many things. We’ve talked with each other so often now, but only now do you wish to take me seriously? How have you been acting up until now? Oh, I know! As if only you can solve every single issue for our empire? That only you are worthy of upholding Father’s ideals just because you’ve been following him around like a duckling!” Wendriosa snapped. “Let me repeat myself: There is more to this world than Miononbolax.”

“I can see that clearly with how Caedhul’s sea dragonkin are treating us.”

“How they treat us is different from what the world actually needs, Brother. Father’s rule is just and wise, but that does not make it infallible. There are flaws to it that he won’t be able to correct for the rest of his time, but that is why it is important for him to abdicate to the next generation. To us,” Wendriosa said. “Our role as the next ruler is to build upon Father’s work and better them, not keep up the status quo and act like nothing bad is happening!”

“Like our culture of power?”

“Tha—Grk, you think me a hypocrite for having to use a flaw to reach my goals?”

Kahalameet shook his head. “This … I, too, am at fault for not noticing it.”

“Don’t you dare!” Wendriosa shot up from her seat, slamming the table hard enough that cracks were formed. The glass of water spilled, flowing into these crevices. “You’ve left me to take care of our younger siblings while you and Phsothophus flew around, training and making sure to build up your future! I admired you! Even after my pilgrimage! I admired everything you envisioned, yet you did nothing when Taimatrak was ostracized for his inquisitive nature, Nongramos for how much he adored our grandfather, Ryranakus because his attitude was unfitting to our culture of power, or Fargryneill about her appearance! You did nothing for our poor Ryranakus and Fargryneill! … Just like Father, just like son.”

She pointed at her brother, manipulating the water around to form a long needle. “You! Left. Us! Just like Father leaving his siblings! Just like Grandfather leaving all the issues for Father to handle! Yet that monster still believes he has the permission to move us around like his marionettes, like my youngest sister! Who should have died and left us in peace! Or, at least, died after he stopped uncle from ruining our Father’s soul! You call this rule perfect? You want to maintain the status quo? No, no, no, Brother … I will not allow you to let Kargryx continue like this for another 2000 years.”

“Marionettes you say? Then what does that make you?”

“I am a puppet, and I failed to turn my supporters against the interloper. No, I’ve never really had any supporters in the first place, aside from our deceased aunt. If I lost everything that quickly just because the new leader is just a bit better at speaking, then I was never worthy to take the throne.” Wendriosa clenched her fist, pained to have to admit it, but that agony only further fueled her anger for her brother. “Then again, it makes sense. You are a puppet, and so am I.”

Kahalameet grinded his teeth. This was the second time he had to hear somebody call him a pawn in another’s schemes. First, Hestia lectured how he was ambitionless and only willing to pick up on somebody else’s ideal—Eltharion—and now even his younger sister chastised him for being an unknowing pawn. He thought he was the one leading, but even Wendriosa could tell he was in the same situation as she was.

“… I am.”

“Ooh?” Wendriosa tilted her head, flinching back slightly. “Truly, who are you and what have you done with my brother?”

“I’ve had time to speak with people that do not care that I am a prince. They want to speak with ‘Kahalameet,’ instead.” The prince lowered his head, correcting his glass’s position. He then karate chopped the water needle and used his own [Aquakinesis] to put the manipulated water back into his glass.

Wendriosa did the same and finally sat down. He caressed her cheeks and chin, letting out a small giggle.

“Your joke wasn’t exactly funny, you know.”

“You’ve never had a good sense of humor, Brother. Always too dour, if you ask me. You’ve only really opened your shell when it comes to family, and not even your direct subordinate knows how terrible you are when it comes to tea ceremonies. You love tea so much, yet you are horrible at making it,” Wendriosa continued to joke around, feeling like the atmosphere had finally lost some of the tension. “… You actually are here, you straight tail. What is this epiphany? Why now?”

“Our youngest is being attacked.”

“I know. Family first, but you wouldn’t change your mind like this unless you realized something that warranted you making such a massive shift.” Wendriosa’s frown broke into a sarcastic laugh. “Honestly, I was expecting to just leave Hestia’s issue alone and simply confront me on it. That I should finally do something to stop my followers, otherwise you would do it yourself.”

“That was my initial idea.”

“I always surprise myself with how well I know you,” Wendriosa teased. “It would have gone against your desire to keep the status quo, but I knew even somebody like you won’t be able to abide by the straight path. Sometimes a hard hand is needed … So, what now? Hiehie, finally seeing the truth after Ryranakus, Fargryneill, and Hestia presented their side of the story? Are you willing to change a bit, or are you still as stubborn as an equerochs?”

Kahalameet opened his mouth but stopped himself, pausing to stand up. He gestured for Wendriosa to follow him outside so she abided, going outside their clan’s mansion inside Coral Beard.

“What now?” Kahalameet paused. “Well, I decided to do what Hestia recommended to me. I realized, why have we been trying to vie for power amongst those outside our family? In your case, Mother did the correct choice but it failed with our aunt’s death. I thought I had to curry favor with our populace and its dragons, but it made me overlook something important … I wouldn’t call you a hypocrite, but I am. Family is the most important to me, yet, why did I never try to rely on it more than my partnership with Phsothophus?”

He pointed at the harbor, directing Wendriosa’s sight to the leviathans obstructing the sea paths directly off the shore of the elf’s island. He then pointed up, causing Wendriosa’s eyes to widen as a large, black tyrant suddenly appeared in the sky above the floating city, causing a sonic boom strong enough to alarm even the leviathans in the open ocean.

“F-Father?” she stuttered, feeling a chill run down her spine as she saw fire spewing from his mouth and bright red flashing from his eyes. Following his appearance, the six empresses made theirs as well, flying side by side with the tyrant of Kargryx.

“I figured another way for us to determine who will become the emperor outside of the current power struggle. However, for now, let us watch this first.”

“KRUAAAAAAAAAAAAAGHHHHHHHHHHH!”

The earth, the seas, the skies—everything in the confines of Coral Beard shook. They submitted before the Black Avatar of Destruction.