NOVEL NEXT Chapter 127: Desire
At the sound of his name, the massive dragon appeared above the courtyard, wings tucked, golden eyes watching them both. A low, affectionate growl rumbled from his throat.
Ethan looked up at him, smirking. "I missed you too, buddy."
David lowered his voice. "They still think he's some ancient draconic god."
Ethan's smile deepened faintly, but he said nothing
They made jokes and shared a laugh before Ethan's expression turned thoughtful. "I'll need to address everyone. Reaffirm order. And set some long-term goals."
"Already arranged," David said. "I've gathered the patrol captains, lead workers, scouts, and forge heads for a meeting in two hours. Gives you time to rest or—"
"No," Ethan cut in with a firm shake of his head. "I'll prep now. If we want to build something real, it's going to take more than just fear. We need structure. Roles. A future."
David grinned. "You're sounding more and more like a ruler."
"I'm still getting used to the idea."
They turned together, walking back into the sanctum—Kaeryx gliding silently behind, a silent god casting his shadow over a kingdom still in its earliest breath.
The central assembly hall of the Dragonkin Sanctum was a relic of ancient craftsmanship—massive columns hewn from black basalt, etched in golden draconic script, soared high above their heads. Lanterns of floating flame hung suspended in midair, casting warm amber light across the gathering of diverse faces that now filled the great hall.
Ethan stood at the head of the circular platform, elevated slightly above the others. Behind him loomed Kaeryx in his smaller form—still grand, his eyes aglow with divine awareness, his presence a constant reminder of who now ruled this domain.
Before Ethan, seated or standing in semi-formal clusters, were the key figures of the Sanctum: Dragonkin squad leaders, orcish warhands, human scouts, minotaur labor heads, and even a few nervously upright goblins. They came from Grosh'ka and the newly claimed Dragonkin sanctum alike. Two worlds merging under one vision.
David stood by Ethan's side, arms crossed, alert and ready.
Ethan stepped forward.
He didn't speak right away. Instead, he looked at each face one by one, letting the silence build weight.
Then he began.
"I'm not here to pretend everything's perfect," he said, voice carrying easily through the enchanted acoustics of the hall. "I know that some of you still hate each other. I know there's distrust. Fear. Tension."
A few heads shifted. Orcs glanced warily at Dragonkin. Goblins stayed perfectly still.
"But I also know something else," Ethan continued. "You're alive. You've survived what the Great Labyrinth threw at you. You've followed orders. And now, you stand under a banner that no longer divides you by race—but unites you by strength."
Kaeryx let out a low growl of approval.
Ethan's eyes burned with quiet determination. "This Sanctum isn't just a shelter. It's a foothold. And if we want to survive long-term… if we want our people to have more than just scraps and fear—we build. We expand. We evolve."
A murmur of agreement passed through the crowd.
David stepped forward, holding up a slate and beginning to read off a list of roles.
"We're establishing formal structure now. Patrol captains for each quadrant—rotating daily. Artisan guilds will be restructured, with resources logged and managed properly. Scouts will use relay stations built from the Grosh'ka blueprint, linked by mana crystals for fast comms. We're going to map this region like no one ever has before."
"About time," muttered a minotaur, grinning as he crossed his arms.
"Work assignments will be skill-based," David continued. "No race-based segregation. If you can do something well, that's what you'll be doing. Efficiency over ego."
That raised a few surprised brows—but no arguments.
Ethan raised a hand again. "And more importantly—we'll defend what we've built. I'll be personally overseeing the enhancement of the barrier formations. And we'll be starting recruitment drills. Every able-bodied person will receive basic training. Whether you're a cook, a forgemaster, or a messenger. You'll know how to survive."
A Dragonkin stood, scales gleaming under the firelight. "And if outsiders attack? Another sanctum tries to take us?"
Ethan's voice hardened. "Then they'll regret it. We're not prey anymore."
Another hand rose—an older orc with streaks of gray in his beard. "And what of leadership? Do we follow you… forever?"
Ethan met his gaze steadily. "I don't ask for blind loyalty. I ask for results. As long as I continue to protect and lead, I expect your support. If the day comes when someone better rises—someone who can defend us all more than I can—then you'll have my blessing to follow them instead."
That stunned the room. An answer they hadn't expected—but respected deeply.
"I've seen too many so-called rulers grasp at power with weak hands and cruel hearts," Ethan added. "I'm not here to become a tyrant. I'm here to build something that lasts."
At that moment, Kaeryx lifted his head and let out a low, divine-toned growl. A ripple of mana passed through everyone in the room—gentle, yet suffused with ancient might.
Silence reigned.
Then David cleared his throat.
"We'll be forming working groups tonight. Get with your unit heads. Training starts at dawn. New barrack expansions will begin next week. Everyone has a role. And yes—before you ask—we're implementing scheduled rest days."
That got a small chuckle from several members.
Ethan stepped back, his eyes watching the crowd with calculated calm.
He was no king.
But in this hall of firelight and stone, in this city forged from surviving beasts and broken dreams, he had become something greater:
A force of direction.
A banner of order.
A flame in the dark.
The meeting slowly disbanded, chatter rising as leaders moved to coordinate with their units. Some looked relieved, others invigorated. But above all, there was a sense of momentum.
Something was beginning.
And at its center stood Ethan—marked by fate, shadowed by a dragon god, and ready to shake the Labyrinth down to its roots.
Long after the council meeting had dispersed and the buzz of activity returned to the sanctum's stone arteries, Ethan stood alone atop the Sanctum's highest parapet—a curved balcony of black obsidian overlooking the vast expanse of the Great Labyrinth. The stars here were strange. They shimmered in slow, deliberate pulses, like they breathed with the land itself.
Below, torchlight flickered from the courtyards as drills began and workers returned to duty. It was progress. But Ethan knew it was only the beginning.
The wind carried a dry warmth, laced with the scent of sulfur and ash. It wasn't unpleasant. Just... alien.
Behind him, the heavy flap of wings drew near.
Kaeryx landed with a graceful sweep of shadow and flame, perching beside Ethan in his smaller draconic form. The dragon's golden eyes regarded him with a familiar, almost ancient understanding.
"You're quiet tonight," Kaeryx spoke through their bond—not in words, but in the way his presence pressed into Ethan's soul.
"I'm thinking," Ethan replied aloud, voice low. "Too much, maybe."
Kaeryx rumbled softly, folding his wings. Your enemies will think less. That is why they'll lose.
Ethan smirked faintly. "That's not the point."
He leaned against the carved railing, gaze tracing the horizon. "I never wanted to rule anyone, Kaeryx. I just wanted strength. A way to protect Mia. A way to survive."
And now you lead armies and tame sanctums, Kaeryx observed with wry amusement. This is your path. Whether you chose it, or it chose you, does it matter?
"I guess not," Ethan said, almost to himself.
Silence settled between them, thick and oddly comforting.
Ethan's thoughts drifted.
There were now two sanctums under his command. The rune stone pulsed quietly within his mind—like a tether tying him to both Grosh'ka and the Dragonkin Sanctum. He could feel the souls of every registered inhabitant, their ambient emotions, their shifting loyalties.
It was strange. Heavy.
And yet, empowering.
His system had gone silent since his last mission update. No new quests. No sudden revelations. Just the slow, steady trickle of notifications from scouts, patrols, production queues, and resource allocations.
A world of numbers and fire.
He closed his eyes.
For a moment, Ethan let his guard down. Let himself simply feel. The burden of leadership, the cold clarity of strategy, the fierce heat of ambition that was slowly replacing the innocence he'd once carried.
"Kaeryx," he said quietly.
"You think we'll ever break that ceiling?" Ethan asked, quietly. "What the system did to you… to us. All the hidden rules. The capstones. The shackles we don't even see."
Kaeryx's answer came with a quiet growl. If anyone can, it's you. Because you are not of their design.
Ethan didn't know exactly what that meant. But something deep within him stirred at those words.
As if some hidden part of his soul remembered something it shouldn't.
"I want to claim all the sanctums," he said firmly. "Not for power. Not even just to survive. But to unravel this Labyrinth. To tear through the lies. The illusions. To make this world answer."