Primordial Awakening: Rise of the Legendary Dragon God

Seeing how Kael wasn't killing Aldric just yet, Vaelen breathed a sigh of relief, but he also swallowed hard, as now, he had to start explaining.

Every eye was on him—demihuman guards, villagers peeking from shattered doorways, Aldric suspended midair and barely breathing, Marthis unconscious on the stone, and above all—

Kael.

Those golden eyes didn't glare.

They measured.

Vaelen straightened on his knees and bowed his head.

"I'll start from the beginning," he said hoarsely. "I came here chasing you."

Kael's gaze sharpened.

Vaelen felt it immediately and rushed on, words tumbling out. "Not because of justice. Not because of revenge. I came to impress my father."

A murmur rippled through the onlookers.

"I chased you and the demihumans who escaped Veldera," Vaelen continued. "Because… because you killed my brother."

His fingers clenched into the stone.

"But don't misunderstand," he added quickly, lifting his head. "Ranvir wasn't someone I loved. Nor is Arren. We weren't brothers in anything but blood. The three of us spent more time plotting each other's deaths than sharing a meal."

Kael said nothing.

So Vaelen went on.

"I'm sorry, Father," he said, turning his head slightly toward Aldric. "For lying. For pretending I cared. I thought that was what you wanted to see."

Aldric's jaw tightened, but he still couldn't speak.

Vaelen exhaled shakily. "At first, I truly intended to capture Kael. Maybe even kill him, if I could." He let out a humorless laugh. "That confidence didn't last long."

He looked around at the forest-lined streets, the barrier shimmering faintly overhead.

"In Rugarda, I learned something very important," Vaelen said quietly. "I'm weak. Pathetically so."

His voice didn't carry bitterness—only clarity.

"I had to sneak around. Hide. Avoid beasts I couldn't even scratch. Every day, I was reminded of how small I was."

His fists trembled.

"And that's when it hit me. Instead of chasing Father's approval… instead of fighting for a title I wasn't ready to inherit… I should've been growing."

The words hung heavy.

"If I had done that," Vaelen said softly, "I wouldn't be standing behind everyone else right now."

Just then, footsteps approached.

Alenia arrived first, her expression sharp and unreadable, followed by Evethra, whose crimson eyes flicked briefly toward Aldric and Marthis before settling behind Kael.

Neither woman spoke. They merely took their place at Kael's side.

They didn't know what was happening, but because Kael had come out, they followed.

They couldn't help Selene, anyway, so it was better to be somewhere where they could be needed.

Now, looking at the situation, they didn't know what to make of it, so they decided to listen.

Vaelen glanced at them, then back to Kael, continuing.

"Now… I don't even know if I want to go back," he admitted. "The human lands feel… small. Stagnant. Here, I can grow. I have grown. Until now, I chased the name Kael because I didn't know what else to do."

He shook his head. "But standing here, I don't feel the need anymore."

The village was silent.

"And as for why they're here," Vaelen said, gesturing weakly toward Aldric and Marthis, "it's probably because I disappeared for over a month. Turns out—" he grimaced, "—there's a tracking spell on me."

For a while, there was silence, as everyone glanced at Aldric once.

Kael, however, had his eyes fixed on Vaelen before he narrowed them.

He raised one hand.

"Two."

Vaelen blinked. "…What?"

"There are two tracking spells on you," Kael repeated calmly.

Vaelen frowned, confusion clear on his face. "Two? But Father said—"

His words trailed off.

Aldric gritted his teeth imperceptibly.

After all, he knew who that spell belonged to.

But the invisible pressure still coiled around his body, crushing his lungs just enough to remind him that speaking without permission wasn't an option.

Before Vaelen could ask further—

"LADY ALENIA!"

A voice rang out as hurried footsteps echoed down the street.

A girl burst into view, breathless, auburn hair tied back messily, eyes shining with urgency.

She looked young—eighteen at most—but the faint shimmer around her betrayed refined illusion mana.

She skidded to a halt before Kael, bent over slightly, hands on her knees. "Lord Kael."

As he nodded in response, the girl then turned toward Alenia.

"I—I finished the interrogation," she said quickly. "The assassin talked."

Alenia's eyes sharpened. "That easily?"

The girl swallowed and glanced briefly at Kael—then shuddered.

"He broke almost immediately," she said. "Didn't even try to resist. He was terrified and kept muttering, 'Don't call the dragon.'"

Kael didn't react, while Alenia folded her arms. "So? Who was it?"

"It was arranged through intermediaries," the girl continued, her voice tight. "But the origin is clear."

She lifted her head.

"It was ordered by House Baneron."

The name struck like thunder.

Vaelen froze.

Alenia slowly turned her gaze toward Aldric.

And Kael—

Kael's eyes darkened, something ancient stirring behind the gold.

The name House Baneron lingered in the air like poison.

Whispers spread almost instantly.

Eyes—once wary—turned sharp.

"…So it was him."

"That explains the assassins…"

"What kind of father does that to his own son?"

"Humans are all like that..."

Alenia's gaze hardened as she looked at Aldric, her voice low but cutting. "So the assassins fail… and then two S-rank humans appear inside our village." She exhaled sharply. "Convenient timing. Maybe you came to finish the job yourself."

The implication settled heavily.

Vaelen's breath hitched.

He looked at his father—really looked this time—and doubt began to creep in. The memories of his upbringing, the cold expectations, the constant pressure… they twisted together with Alenia's words until they made terrible sense.

"…Father," Vaelen said slowly. "Was it really you?"

For a moment, Aldric said nothing.

His body was still suspended, pressure wrapped around him like an unseen vise. His breathing was labored—but his eyes were sharp, calculating even now.

Kael watched him.

And then, finally—

"You seem to have a great deal to say," Kael said calmly. "I will allow you to speak."

The invisible force loosened.

Not fully.

Just enough.

Aldric inhaled deeply and remained silent for several seconds longer, as if choosing his words with care.

Then he looked at Vaelen.

"Tell me," Aldric said quietly, "did you ever wonder why Arren never came to Rugarda?"

Vaelen frowned. "…What?"

"Did it never strike you as odd?" Aldric continued. "Your elder brother—who craved recognition more than either of you—never once tried to enter the forest. Never attempted to 'avenge' Ranvir. Never sought the glory you chased so desperately."

Vaelen's eyes widened.

That thought—once planted—spread rapidly.

Arren should have come.

He always did, whenever there was an opportunity to gain favor. To claim credit. To stand above his brothers.

"...Then why—" Vaelen began.

"The second tracking spell," Aldric interrupted. "Was not mine."

Kael's golden eyes narrowed a fraction.

Aldric continued, his jaw tightening. "Arren placed it on you. The day you left."

Silence crashed down.

"He intended to use you as a lantern," Aldric said coldly. "A light inside the dark and unknown Rugarda. You would find Kael. You would locate the demihumans. And when the time was right, he would arrive—claim the kill, claim the credit."

Vaelen's hands trembled.

"…And if I failed?" He whispered.

Aldric didn't hesitate. "Then you would die. And that, too, would have benefited him."

Something in Vaelen broke.

"I realized it," Aldric said, his voice tightening. "Eventually. I confronted him. Stripped him of freedom. Put him under house arrest."

A flicker of fury crossed his face.

"But clearly," he snarled, "he didn't learn his lesson."

Aldric turned his gaze toward Alenia. "This assassination—this timing—was a coincidence. I did not send anyone. I came here for one reason only."

His eyes returned to his son.

"To take Vaelen home."

The street was deathly quiet.

Then—

Kael tilted his head.

"If that is the case," he said evenly, "then why did you not leave the moment you arrived?"

Aldric exhaled, a tired sound. "Because reality is less convenient than you seem to believe."

He glanced briefly toward Marthis's unconscious form.

"Even for an S-rank mage, teleportation of that scale requires recovery—one to two minutes at a minimum before casting again. Casting time itself is separate. We couldn't simply arrive and depart."

Kael tilted his head again.

Slightly more this time.

He was confused by Aldric's words.

Alenia stared at him.

Evethra stared at him.

They both remembered.

During the fight with the Dire Sovereign beast, he had used teleportation mid-fight.

He had warped space casually to dodge lethal blows.

Kael had even moved the entire group across vast distances without visible strain—then doing it again seconds later.

But neither of them spoke.

Because they knew that comparing Kael to others would never end well—for the others.

The villagers, however, weren't that wise.

So, whispers rose from the villagers.

"…Wait, what?"

"Teleportation takes minutes?"

"But Lord Kael—"

"I saw him take people to Veldera and return almost instantly…"

"That wasn't a short jump either…"

The murmurs spread.

Confusion.

Shock.

Aldric's eyes widened slowly.

"…What did they just say?"

Behind him, Marthis coughed.

Blood spilled from the corner of his mouth as his unconscious body twitched.

The greatest mage of the past generation reacted—if only subconsciously—to the words being spoken.

Kael remained silent.

Golden eyes steady.

Unmoved.

He again realized that things that were normal for him were not the same for others.

But just then, the air shuddered.

Not visibly—not to the villagers, nor the guards, nor even Evethra, who wasn't a sensory type.

But Kael felt it.

A sharp, hostile distortion rippled through the sky far above, space itself tightening like a drawn bowstring. His golden eyes lifted a fraction.

Alenia stiffened beside him, almond pupils narrowing as her hand slowly curled.

Aldric's breath hitched.

Cold sweat beaded at his temple as his instincts screamed danger, the second time today.

High above town, three presences had arrived.

No light. No sound.

Just overwhelming pressure, layered and vast, pressing down on reality itself.

Each of them—

Stronger than Aldric.

Stronger than Marthis.

And maybe even stronger than Kael.