NOVEL NEXT Chapter 72: Five Minutes...
His words hung thick in the air, charged with defiance. At this point, it felt like Draeven wasn't even speaking to Aephyra anymore. His voice was turned skyward, as though he challenged the very skies that had cursed their child.
His gaze lifted, sharp and cold, piercing through the darkened ceiling of his labyrinth lair. His golden pupils constricted, burning with furious question.
"Then why?!" his voice boomed.
"Why?!" It echoed like thunder throughout the surrounding place...
"Why let him be born at all, if you only meant to amass your forces and butcher him later?!" His voice, though questioning, never lost its pride. Even as he cursed the heavens, his tone carried the disdain of a being who dared to look down on fate itself.
The profundity of Heaven had always been a mystery… but this, this single cruel act, carried weight and depth that even Draeven — who had seen empires rise and fall, gods clash and bleed — could not comprehend. It wasn't just baffling. It was maddening.
At that precise moment, the earth trembled beneath them. A deep rumble that made the cavern walls cry out in strain. It wasn't a simple quake — no, this was the foundation of the labyrinth itself cracking under pressure. The ancient runes that fortified this sanctuary were splintering.
"It's time," Draeven muttered, his voice now calm but grim. "Aephyra, any more delay, and we miss the last, best chance we have…"
But Aephyra clutched the small dragon against her chest tighter, her tears refusing to stop. "Please, Draeven…" she whispered, her voice breaking. "A favor… I need more time. No matter how little. Just a little more…"
Her teary eyes looked up at him, pleading with a desperation that tore at even Draeven's battle-hardened heart.
For a brief moment, the storm of fury within him stilled. His chest tightened.
'Tch… I have a soft spot for her when she pleads like that… I can't refuse her when she looks at me like this.' He ground his teeth. 'Even I… even I must yield here. We dragons compromise for no one… but for her... I will.'
With a long sigh, he turned his eyes away, his prideful nature battling his softer feelings. But when he spoke again, his voice was cold, measured, refined — but still edged with the pride only a dragon like him could wield.
"Five minutes," he declared, as though delivering a verdict. "That's the most I can give you, Aephyra. They're out for blood. Wasting even a second more would be like willingly bringing doom to him… without even trying to protect him as his mother. I hope you understand… Aephyra."
He didn't wait for her reply. He didn't need to. The moment his words dropped, the space around him shuddered.
Power exploded from Draeven's form in a sudden, violent burst. The sheer force of his aura cracked the ground, splitting the bedrock and forming a crater beneath his feet as though the earth itself bowed under his presence.
The air screamed as invisible ripples shot out in every direction — distortions that bent space like glass under pressure.
Without wasting a breath, Draeven leaped forward. His massive form surged through the protective dome of the Glass Pyre Array without even disturbing its transparency — like a shadow passing through water. The moment he was outside, his colossal wings, each broader than a car, unfurled with a sound like the sky tearing apart.
Then — he vanished.
No blur. No afterimage. One second he was there, the next, he was simply gone. But it wasn't teleportation. No trick. No technique.
It was pure speed. The raw, brutal speed of a being whose might transcended logic.
The force behind that single flap of his wings sent shockwaves rippling through the clouds above, and even the stars in the distant sky seemed to shimmer from the pressure.
Planets? Stars? For Draeven, these were nothing. He could shatter them with casual strikes, erase them with a breath.
Ethan, in his current strength at Nexa, didn't even hold a candle to this. No—compared to this level of power, Ethan was like a flickering ember standing before a boundless sun. This was what it meant to be a Sovereign Dragon — a creature whose every motion could end civilizations and unmake worlds.
His speed, at this moment, neared the speed of light, the space itself stretching and warping around him. To any who might catch a glimpse, it would seem as though Draeven had ceased to exist, as if he had teleported out of existence — as though the universe couldn't even register his presence fast enough.
This was true draconic power. Unfathomable. Unmatched. Every breath he drew, every wingbeat he made, was a testament to his dominion over destruction. And at this moment, every shred of that overwhelming might woukd unleashed… all for the sake of buying five more minutes for his son. Just five minutes.
Because even for a dragon as prideful and supreme as Draeven— There was no greater cause to fight for than his own blood.
Meanwhile, Aephyra continued pressing Ethan's massive dragon head against her chest, gently patting him like a mother comforting her newborn.
The scene, though, looked downright bizarre.
The enormous head of a dragon—horned, scaled, and fearsome—squished against the ample, soft chest of a busty woman. Aephyra, in her current form, didn't even look fully draconic. No scales covered her smooth, flawless skin, only the pair of elegant dragon horns curling from her head hinted at her true nature. Though Ethan, from within the dragon body, had the strange sense that if she wanted to, she could call forth her scales at will. But that wasn't what made him feel like coughing up blood right now.
After all, he wasn't her son. Yet here he was—his enormous snout pushed against her breasts like some overgrown baby dragon.
'These dragons… they've got weird kinks, don't they?' Ethan muttered inwardly, a cold shiver running down his spine at this experience.
He surely didn't expect Dragons to have such weird kinks...