Dragon King: Throne of Demons and Gods

The garden had gone quiet, like it was holding something in. Not calm, just tense.

Shards of shattered mirrors still floated in the air like broken dreams.

Airi was relentless. She was still moving, tearing through the last of them with her glowing blades.

She hadn't felt the shift. She had been trapped in a mirror when it happened, when that wave of power tore through the maze, when the outside world bled in.

But Bel had felt everything.

He wasn't moving now. Just standing, head tilted slightly, eyes staring at nothing. Inside his mind, the system was buzzing out of control.

[Lindworm – Level Up!]

[Lindworm – Level Up!]

[Drake – Rank Up: Greater Demon]

[Calculating shared attributes...]

[Lindworm – Level Up!]

[Lindworm – Rank Up: Lesser Demon]

[Bond Level 1 Activated]

[Calculating shared attributes...]

[Would you like to grant this demon a name?]

[Would you like to grant this demon a name?]

[Would you like to grant this demon a name?]

Too many notification. Too many changes. His jaw tightened. Something deep inside his power had shifted.

Then a scream snapped him out of his thoughts.

"Bel!"

Crest's voice.

Bel turned. Airi was inside a mirror again, body crushed under chaotic gravity. Blood ran from her mouth.

One leg twisted wrong. Her swords sparked dimly in her hands, trying to react but unable to keep up. The pressure inside that world was too much.

Bel raised his hand and snapped his fingers.

A pulse of violet energy exploded from him, striking the mirror in an instant.

It shattered, and Airi crashed into the garden hard, rolling once before groaning. Her body glowed, healing itself slowly.

Crest rushed to her side, grabbing her shoulder.

"Airi... are you okay? Hey, stay with me!"

She winced, slapped his hand away, and sat up, coughing.

"Don't make it worse," she muttered. "I'm fine."

But her glare wasn't for Crest. She didn't even look at Bel. Her jaw was set, eyes low. She was ashamed to be the one saved again.

It was supposed to be her show, but without Bel, she would have been dead.

Crest stood, turning toward Bel.

"You let her suffer!" he yelled. "What the hell were you doing?! Just standing there like a statue!"

But Bel didn't respond. His eyes weren't on Crest.

They were fixed upward.

Crest followed his gaze. So did Airi, slowly rising to her feet.

Morpheus was there, just floating in the air above them, the last of the mirrors crumbling behind him. But something was different now.

He wasn't moving. His face was blank, but wrong. Not calm. Not in control.

His eyes weren't on them.

He was staring at a place far behind. The same direction the power had come from.

Maël.

A Sacred strong enough to burn through the dreamspace. One of the generals was dead. Another dying.

That truth had hit Morpheus like a hammer. And now, for the first time since they entered this cursed place, he realized that the demons weren't the only ones in control.

Even worse, everything could stop here.

Airi, fully healed, narrowed her eyes.

"Is he gonna just float there?" she said with irritation. "Fine. Let's see how long he lasts."

She pushed off the ground in a golden streak, aiming straight for him, her blades ready.

Bel's voice cut the air like a whip.

"Don't!"

She flinched. Mid-air, her body twisted just enough.

The air where she'd been split open.

A black line tore through the space, so fast and so violent it looked like the world had been cut in half.

The slash didn't make a sound, but the following pressure behind it hit like a wave.

Airi didn't dodge fast enough. The force slammed into her side, hurling her sideways.

She smashed into a stone wall, broke through it, and dropped behind rubble. Dust and broken stone rained down.

Then stillness returned.

No one spoke.

Crest took a step forward, staring at the space where the attack had landed.

Even Airi didn't move right away.

They both looked up slowly.

Morpheus was still floating, but now, his face had changed.

His lips were drawn tight. His brows low. He was furious.

Airi and Crest felt an horrible, cold thing that running down their spine.

But Morpheus didn't strike again.

He just turned, eyes still glowing, and vanished into a mirror without a sound.

The mirrors around him cracked. Then disappeared. The dream fractured, and with it, Morpheus was gone.

Airi pulled herself from the rubble.

Her eyes scanned the sky, searching for something solid in the drifting haze.

"The hell was that…?" she muttered, gaze narrowing. "Another trick?"

Crest stepped away from the cracked center of the garden, still watching the air where Morpheus had been.

"He vanished," he said. "Into a mirror, yeah. But…" He paused. "Something was off. He looked... off. Why the others disappeared too? Is he planning to not come back?"

Airi frowned.

"You're saying he left?"

Silence followed. All eyes turned to Bel.

He hadn't moved. His gaze still hung on empty space. Then it dropped slightly.

"Yes, I think he's gone," he said.

Crest blinked.

"You think so too?"

"You're sure?" Airi asked.

Bel nodded once, quiet and clear.

"Yes. He's not here anymore."

They stood still, surrounded by broken glass and silence, none of them quite willing to believe it. It was Crest who broke it.

"Why would he leave now?" he asked. "He had mirrors everywhere. He had us."

Bel didn't answer right away. He was still staring at the air, like there was something there only he could see. Then, slowly, he turned his eyes toward them.

"You felt it?" he said.

Airi raised an eyebrow.

"Felt what?"

Crest nodded.

"That power? You think that's why he ran?"

Bel nodded slightly.

"Yes."

Airi looked between them, arms crossed.

"I didn't feel anything. What are you two even talking about?"

Bel's voice was calm.

"You were inside a mirror when it happened. You probably couldn't feel anything through that kind of isolation."

He looked back up, remembering.

"It wasn't just pressure. It was like something split the world for a second. I felt dozens of auras. Strong ones. Some dying. But one of them…" He exhaled slowly. "One of them wasn't like the others. It was... too perfect."

Crest shifted uncomfortably.

"Demon Lord?"

"No. Human."

Both Airi and Crest stared at him in disbelief.

Airi blinked.

"You can tell the difference?"

Bel nodded.

"I'm a demon. I feel the difference like heat and cold."

Crest's tone changed.

"So… you think that was an ally?"

"Maybe," Bel said. "But Morpheus felt it too. If we did, so did he. And if he saw that kind of power… then that person might become everyone's target."

Bel closed his eyes. For a second, he stood there, immobile. But inside, something flickered.

He remembered the auras. Not just their shape, but the feel of them. Like they had been branded into the core of his being.

Each one burned into memory, as if the dream itself couldn't hide them.

"This place," Bel agreed. "This whole maze, the mirrors, the fake city, it's not real. It's another space. Built on different rules. Here, death isn't always death. Probably only for some demons."

"Coukd explain how Morpheus kept coming back after death over and over," Airi groaned.

"Exactly. But something broke that rule for a second."

Then something else pulled at Bel's mind.

A subtle pull that he remembered very well.

He opened his status window without thinking.

[Demonic Essence: 2,000 / 2,000]

His breath caught.

Full capacity... Restored.

That wasn't right. He had burned essence earlier, during the fight. And no one in this dream could have restored it. No source of recovery here.

Unless…

His eyes narrowed. He didn't speak. But he understood.

There had been a breach.

For just a moment, one heartbeat, he had been reconnected to the outside world. To Novaria.

Somewhere, far away, his army was still fighting. Still burning through dungeons. And when that window opened, just for that second, the flow reached him.

A thread of reality had slipped through, and that meant it could happen again. Using the correct way, he could do that again, and unleash an army of wyverns in the city.

"We should move," Bel said at last. His voice cut through the silence like a knife through cloth. "Morpheus retreated, but that won't last. We should head toward the other energy source, quickly."

His gaze shifted, landing on Airi.

"Your body," he asked. "The blessings, how long do they stay after a fight ends?"

Airi blinked. The question was casual, but it made something in her spine stiffen. This again. Why did everyone suddenly have notes on how her power worked?

It couldn't be her fault, she was surely getting too popular. That was a nice though, but it started getting annoying.

She shrugged, cautious.

"That depends. Sometimes a few seconds. Sometimes a few minutes. It's not exactly… reliable."

Bel nodded once.

"So," he said calmly, "once your body no longer senses danger, it shuts off your blessings."

"Yeah. Something like that." Her tone was flat now, one eyebrow raising. "Why?"

Bel turned his head toward Crest.

"Attack her. Lightly. Every thirty seconds."

For a second, nothing happened.

Airi just blinked. Crest stared at Bel, slowly tilting his head like he had misheard.

Then both of them spoke at the same time.

"Sorry, what?!"

Somewhere else...

The scent of morning dew hung in the air, clean and soft. Aurus knelt in the middle of a field, the grass cool under his hands.

He blinked, confused. Birds sang high in the trees. A breeze moved through the leaves like a lullaby. Flowers swayed in rhythm. The sky above was endless and blue, too perfect.

He looked down.

His hands… weren't old.

They were young, smooth, strong. No tremble. No ache. His armor gleamed, unmarked, not dulled by time or blood.

Blonde hair fell over his shoulders, golden and loose. And when he breathed, it didn't hurt.

He stood slowly, and then he saw them.

Just ahead, gathered near the bend of a dirt path, five figures stood in the sun, talking and laughing. Waiting.

Darwin leaned against a tree, taller than the rest, arms crossed, a lazy grin on his face.

"You're late," he said. "We said morning, not 'whenever the great Aurus decides to wake up.'"

Lloyd was beside him, halfway through unrolling a scroll, already irritated.

"If we miss the window, I'm blaming all of you. Especially him."

Sylphera stood quietly, adjusting her cloak. Calm, distant to most, but still holding her staff just high enough to shade Mahvindra from the sun beside her.

Mahvindra, cross-legged on a stone, said nothing. His eyes were closed. He smiled quietly at the breeze.

Then another presence appeared beside Aurus.

He turned, startled.

A foxkin woman stood there, flipping a coin in one hand, his coin pouch in the other.

"Late fee," she said, flashing a grin. "Ten percent per hour. You're already broke."

It struck his heart.

He remembered this. This exact moment.

Their first mission. Before the war. Before the titles. Before the weight. Before their death.

He stepped forward, slow. Expecting it to vanish.

But the scene didn't flicker. They didn't fade.

They stayed.

Laughing, talking, alive.

His breath caught. Everything in him told him it wasn't real. He knew who was dead. He knew how much time had passed. But the dream held on like it wanted him to believe.

He walked anyway.

Because if this was a lie… it was the kind that he had dreamed for.

But deep in his chest, he stayed sharp. Because even healing dreams had thorns.

Far, far away from the green peace, beyond the edge of the illusion, something stirred.

A dome of light wrapped around the garden like a snow globe.

Outside of it, a figure watched through the glass, cloaked in shifting black, its face hidden, but its white eyes burning through the veil.

"Caution?" it whispered.

"What's the point of being cautious… when you can't do anything at all?"