NOVEL NEXT Vol 3 Chapter 56: Pallas
Lukas stood still, his chest rising and falling as he realized that this fight was over. At his feet lay the lifeless body of the Hero From Another World. The man's eyes, once filled with defiance and fury, had closed in quiet surrender.
Lukas did not linger in triumph, nor did he revel in victory.
Instead, with a slow, deliberate motion, he bent down and lifted the body one last time, carrying it to the restless sea. The waters welcomed the fallen warrior, drawing him into their embrace. Lukas watched as the tide pulled him further and further out until the body sank beneath the waves, vanishing into the depths.
There, at the bottom of the ocean, the Hero would remain for eternity.
This fight was an end to the Hero's journey, finally giving the man closure that he so desperately searched for all his life.
When he turned, Lukas saw his people.
Behind him stretched a vast sea of faces, his people, gathered upon jagged stone and shifting sand. The Crown upon his head hummed faintly, its presence still tethered to each soul who now stood on the shores of Linemall before him. The connection between his mind and theirs had not been severed.
Through the Legacy, they had seen what Lukas had showed the Hero.
They knew. They all knew who he really was, who he had been before this life.
Lukas wondered how they would look at him now.
Would it be with fear? With resentment? With awe?
They knew now that he was not of their world, that his blood had once belonged to another place where magic did not exist and gods were simply myth and legend. The very thought tightened his chest, though he did not speak. He did not need to. He was Lukas Drakos because he had been Julien Fronterra. The dragon he had become was only possible because of all the regrets that had lasted through lifetimes.
The truth of who he was had carried him this far, and without it, he would not stand among them now. So he would let the truth speak for him.
Lukas' gaze swept the gathered crowd.
Among the thousands stood Erandyl, tall and proud, her Earthborn still arrayed in disciplined lines, loyal only to their Lord. Not far off, scattered through the assembly, were the Flameborn. Their lands had been scarred by Valkari's conquest, their homes turned to ash but they too stood behind their Lord. Rysenth and his people stood together now, united not by blood but by conviction.
The silence of the multitude pressed against him, suffocating in its weight. No word was uttered, no murmur dared to ripple through the throng. Even the sea seemed to hold its breath. And then, the waters stirred. The tide began to withdraw unnaturally, the waves drawing back as though commanded by an unseen will. A deep groan echoed across the horizon, and from the parting sea rose shapes vast and terrible—dragons, their scales glistening with salt and foam, their eyes burning with unspoken power. They emerged one by one, wings folded, tails coiling like serpents through the tide, until the waters were alive with their number.
The Seas of Linemall had felt his presence and though they had not emerged during the battle between their Lord and the Hero From Another World, they rose now to stand before Lukas. Tens of thousands of eyes were fixed on Lukas, piercing and unreadable.
The silence deepened, so absolute that the beating of Lukas' heart felt deafening within his chest.
It was Jesse Sterling who put an end to their silent judgement.
"The Heart of Kaeryth has beat its last. And the spell that once kept Linemall safe from the eyes of those who wish to bring us harm is no more," Jesse's voice rang clear, carrying across the countless faces that had gathered. "There will be war, a war that we cannot avoid. But I do not fear what is to come because of who will lead us through it."
With courage beyond his years, the young dragonborn pushed his way through the crowd, each step firm until he came to stand at Lukas' side. His eyes, sharp with conviction, met those of the dragons that loomed above, unyielding even before their might. Jesse did not care what Lukas had once been. In Jesse's heart, Lukas was not a dragon to be questioned but a Lord that he would stand behind no matter what lay ahead. Lukas felt the weight of that loyalty settle deep within him, heavy and humbling. He owed Jesse a debt had been written into his soul, one he doubted he could ever repay.
Then came Katrina.
His niece emerged from the throng, her stride sure, her expression unshaken as she moved to his side.
Katrina raised her voice, steady and strong. "You look at him as if he is not one of Linemall," she declared, turning her eyes upon the gathered thousands. "Yet he has just put his life on the line for this Kingdom. I do not care if he was once a man. My father's blood runs through his veins. Now he is a dragon. And he is the only dragon that I choose to follow."
Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.
Her words cut through the silence like steel. Pride swelled within Lukas' chest, pride and a fierce love that no crown, no throne, could ever grant him. She had chosen him, not as uncle, nor as blood, but as her Lord.
With her came Selene, his mother, whose smile shone with unshakable love. Selene's eyes, bright and unashamed, looked upon her son as if no secret of his past could diminish the pride she bore for him.
At the wyvern's side came Lady Kaitlyn Drakos, Royal Consort of the Seas, a knowing expression on her face as she gave Lukas the firmest of nods. No words were needed in that gesture, only the strength of her acceptance.
And then, without hesitation, Rosalia followed. The princess stepped forward, her presence commanding, her voice raised for all to hear. She stood tall even amongst giants. "My name is Rosalia Elarion," she proclaimed, her voice filled with clarity and conviction. "And by my decree, I swear to it that Easthaven will stand with Linemall in the wars to follow. We will stand with Lukas Drakos." Her smile—broad, bright, unrestrained—broke the tension within him. Warmth spread through his chest, cutting through the uncertainty, cutting through the weight of doubt that had lingered since the moment the Hero's body sank into the sea. Rosalia was no daughter of his blood, but she was bound to him by something greater. By love. She would always be his Miracle Girl.
And so they came, one by one. The voices of his kin, his allies and his people. They stood beside him not because of who he had once been, but because of who he had become.
At last, the Lords of Linemall stepped forward.
Their Crowns blazed in the light, their Legacies burning just as bright as his.
The silence grew thick, charged with expectation.
Would they accept him as one of their own?
No. They would not.
They would accept him as more than just one of their own.
"I owe my life to you, Lukas. The strength of my people are yours." These words words came from Rysenth, the Dragon Lord of the Flames, his voice carrying across the crowd with a resonance that left no room for doubt. He had once bowed to none, his pride as fierce as the fire he commanded. Yet before all gathered, he sank to one knee. His head lowered, his wings folded tight against his back in submission. A murmur swept through the Flameborn as they bore witness. Shock spread through their ranks, eyes widening as they saw their great Lord kneel None among them had seen such a gesture, nor ever imagined it. And yet it was done—done freely, done without hesitation.
Then came Erandyl.
The great mountain of a dragon stepped forward, her presence alone silencing the murmurs. Her voice, deep and unyielding, followed Rysenth's act with words that struck the heart of every soul present. "The Great Houses will stand together. For the sake of our people, they will stand as one. United under your cause, Lukas Drakos. Our lives, our hopes, our dreams…our future…we place it all in your hands."
The Dragon Lord of the Earth, unshakable as stone itself, bowed her head in reverence. And then she too bent the knee.
Lukas could only stand there, stunned. Words failed him then.
The emotions that surged through him were beyond what words could describe—pride, fear, awe, and emotions that Lukas could even begin to name.
The ripple of devotion spread beyond just the Lords of Linemall, moving outward like a wave across the jagged rocks, across the sands, across the endless gathering of their people.
The entirety of the Kingdom of Dragons bent the knee.
The people of Linemall lowered themselves, heads bowed in trust and in loyalty.
The sound of it was staggering—wings brushing the earth, voices rising not in words but in the shared breath of unity. And then, like the deep rumble of thunder rolling across the sea, a chant began to form.
"Pallas."
It was a word whispered at first, then louder, and louder still.
The chant rose until it shook the air itself, echoing like a storm through the valley, rolling over the sea, rattling Lukas' very bones. He did not know what it meant. But when he turned, Selene stood by him, her expression as warm as the sun breaking through storm clouds. "It is a word spoken in the old draconic tongue, Lukas," she said gently, her voice meant for him but heard by all. "The Lords of Linemall are no more, my son. They have chosen you to lead. How will you answer the call?"
She did not have to say what the word meant.
He knew.
Pallas was King.
They were calling him King.
Lukas had never wanted to bear this title, he had not wanted any title to begin with.
But a great king never wishes to lead. Rather he is called to it.
So Lukas Drakos, son of Linemall and Head of House Drakos, once but a bastard boy—now stood tall. The weight of the Crown was heavier than it had ever been, yet he did not bow beneath it. Instead, he raised his head higher than ever before. The Legacy upon his brow flared with light, amplifying his voice so that it would reach not only his people but all those who lay beyond Linemall's borders.
Then Lukas roared.
It was a sound split the heavens, a cry of triumph, of defiance and of promise. His words thundered with the might of the seas, with the power of Linemall behind him and so Lukas Drakos, King of the Dragons and the Kingdom they called Linemall, made his declaration for all to hear:
"TO THE AGE OF DRAGONS!"