The Dragon Heir

The entire arena drowned beneath the roar of the crowd. It was a living sea of noise. The massive center, empty just moments ago, no longer stood barren. The instant the participants vanished, the very ground had transformed, swallowed by an illusion that hosted the battle for the crown of the last eight standing champions.

The Colosseum itself had birthed the vision. It conjured heart-pounding, breath-snatching scenes that pulled every gaze toward the spectacle within. Illusions flickered like living memories, angles and shots that dove under an opponent’s arm, darted close enough to catch the tremor of a jaw or the gleam of sweat before soaring skyward, zooming in and out at the perfect heartbeat.

It captured the strain in every movement, the flicker before a secret technique, the tightening focus before a cunning feint. The Colosseum knew what the audience wanted before they did. It fed their anticipation, teased their curiosity, and showcased magic so vivid it felt like one could stand in the eye of the storm itself.

If one considered the Colosseum an entertainer for the divine, then this was the kind of performance that could make even Ancestors lean forward in their seats. It proved one thing very clearly: how an art was shown mattered as much as the art itself.

Most common folk couldn’t begin to grasp the intricacies of red core battles, but the Colosseum’s guiding illusions, paired with the seasoned commentator narrating every key move, bridged that gap perfectly. It clicked.

Even the untrained could follow the flow, could feel the intent. The crowd stayed perched on the edge of their seats, whole rows vibrating with noise and fervor, some theorizing, others hollering, and plenty swept up enough to scream without knowing why.

As for Snežana… She didn’t share that chaos of emotion. Not really. On the outside, she was her usual picture of icy poise, but beneath that frostbitten façade, she was nervously fidgeting with her mana around her heart. Maintaining that “ice queen” act was exhausting, and the ancestors knew it.

For the first time in years, she wasn’t wearing that subtle, knowing smile, the one that always appeared when she watched the young beastkin fight for glory. Normally she would be quietly proud, watching the rising prodigies, cheering for her hidden favorites while acting every inch the unbothered matriarch. But this year was different. She was excited, almost childishly so. Her own daughter had broken into the red core just a month before the Spirit Hunt. A sign as auspicious as any omen.

And she had been achingly eager to see Vernia compete this year. Mid-red or not, once a beastkin crossed into the red core, the rest was up to their talent, resonance with their affinity, and sheer will. Even facing high-red opponents, Vernia had a very real chance of winning. Snežana was immensely proud of the daughter she had personally trained since childhood.

But Vernia wasn’t even allowed to participate.

That was… off. Deeply off. Snežana hadn’t expected the elders to bar her daughter, the matriarch’s daughter, from the year’s most sacred festival. Even an idiot would know that meant scheming was afoot. And Snežana, being anything but an idiot, understood that the elders didn’t see her child as hers but as the Flameclaws’ prize piece— a prodigy meant to elevate their strength, not a beloved person of their bloodline.

She knew those fossils too well. So their reaction to restrict their precious 'kin' from entering could only mean they had something up their rotten arses, some scheme to interfere with the festival itself. And that was making Snežana so anxious and alert that she was, for very good reason, unable to enjoy the glorious spectacle even if she wanted to.

The arena remained a roiling sea of noise, but Snežana’s focus was entirely internal. [Master, as you commanded, I have finished the task,] a voice whispered in her head. With a subtle nod, she accessed the shared subspace and felt the familiar, demonic sensation of a burning claw handing over a doll. Multiple studded needles were driven deep into its form. A cold smile touched Snežana’s lips.

‘Did Alina not realize what you did?’ she mused. There was a thread of rueful satisfaction in her thought.

[She was alert, Master. So was that inferior familiar of hers. Plus, she was angry. Exceptionally angry at the ‘abomination’ who outsmarted her. She’s lurking around the arena, trying to catch a whiff of her prey. But their vigilance is simply no match for my own masterful sleight of hands, Master. I am wounded you even considered the possibility of my discovery.] The mental message was accompanied by a dramatic, psychic sob.

‘Oh, shut up,’ Snežana retorted, her consciousness already tracing the needles embedded in the doll within the void. On her command, it erupted into silent, hellish black flames, consumed within the empty subspace. She had to consciously stop herself from grinning. ‘Ahh, this is perfect. That’s one down. Four more to go.’

Snežana’s own Pathway was… a little different from the paths others walked. Fire. Initially, it was just that raw, flaming power, a majestic and destructive force. Most who ascended with it resonated with that feeling of outright conquest. This was especially true once one crossed into the red core and their affinity connected them to the hell plane. Abilities like [Demonization] and powerful flame techniques were common. There were also rarer talents like [Infernal Premonition] and [Infernal Summoning], which pushed that destructive force into something… more.

But the Pathway the Flameclaws held wasn't solely surrounded by sheer destructive power; it was more… complex. It still orbited the core concept of ‘conquer’ that fire affinity carried, except this ‘conquer’ had a wildly different meaning. It involved hexes, curses, and sacrifices to evoke the demonic flames hiding within one’s core.

It was all about demon-like trickery to achieve that concept of domination. This was what her mother taught her, and the same way she had been teaching Vernia, her daughter. The ascent from Yellow to Red was the critical transition. You either turned towards the path of destructive flames, or you turned towards the flames that pretended to be destructive while they slowly corroded your very soul.

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Yet, Snežana felt she was doing something wrong. Despite climbing to the high yellow core so early, Vernia was having a hard time breaking her bottleneck. Snežana had tried everything in a subtle manner, as directly stating the nature of the flames had an annoying habit of throttling a student’s own growth. They had to find their own way. That didn’t mean you couldn’t guide them and nudge them subtly along the path.

This continued until one day Vernia stole one of her artifacts, not only a dormant one, but she somehow went ahead and activated it. They found her moments later, hell flames burning amidst the wreckage of her room.

But… she had crossed over. Not only that, but she had found the correct path. The [Path of the Scaled Devil] was the pathway they walked, and her daughter had successfully passed that trial, too. It happened in a surprising manner, but Snežana couldn't be happier about the outcome.

The path itself was a rare and deceptive one, capable of imitating the traits of its divergent twin, yet weaving them into something subtler, more intricate, and infinitely more dangerous. And Snežana… well, she had always been too adept at it. Gifted since birth, more so than the decrepit fossils who thought they could manipulate her. So talented, in fact, that she could poison them with their own doctrines, turn their dogma into a noose and make them hang themselves with it. Given enough preparation, she could cripple every last one of them.

But time… time was the one thing she didn’t have.

Had someone told her a year ago about the farce playing out today, she might’ve been ready. She might’ve rewritten the board before they made their move. Now, all she could do was sit on her throne, watch, and pretend not to notice as they pulled her strings instead.

That didn’t mean she was helpless. Her perception flared as she felt three pairs of eyes drilling into her. All Golds. All elders. For a brief, delicious second, half of her wanted to burn their accursed eyeballs straight out of their skulls, maybe even curse them to see nothing but gremlins for the rest of their miserable lives. But with one controlled breath, she smothered the urge. Slowly, deliberately, she withdrew her hand from the void and rested it on her thigh.

Instantly, their probing gazes receded.

Even a twitch of her finger was under watch.

She had never felt so caged, so stripped of control. Her very core rebelled, flaring despite her efforts to stay composed. She was this close to snapping.

‘What about that Tomaš fellow, the one Jade is currently impersonating?’ she thought darkly.

It had taken Snežana some time to piece together the truth, and when she did, she was genuinely impressed. The transformation potion was good. Too good. Most of the ones she’d seen had glaring imperfections. Even the best couldn’t hide from a Gold’s perception; the false flesh always leaked mana, or the artificial veins hummed out of rhythm. But this was seamless. No mana leakage. No false resonance. No offbeat pulse. Just perfection.

She’d underestimated Jade’s alchemical brilliance. Then again, this was Jade— meticulous, calculating, and patient enough to perfect a brew before ever daring to use it. She wouldn’t have relied on an inferior potion anyways.

Had Snežana not hexed every participant beforehand, she would never have known. She hadn’t sensed the mark she placed on “Tomaš.” Only after Moryana reported his presence in the sewers did she realize he was gone, his signature displaced entirely. A flawless deception, enough to fool even her.

Still, for all that cleverness, Jade wasn’t without her missteps. Dumping the real Tomaš into the sewers bordered on recklessness.

[It was protected by…. one of Her Excellency’s… servants, Master. A formidable one at that.]

‘But the decision to just leave him there makes no sense… The only thing it might serve is a dramatic reveal when she finally drops the disguise. Huh. Don’t tell me that’s the reason.’ She exhaled sharply, shaking her head. ‘No. I can’t view a dragon’s wisdom through a mortal lens. There has to be something more to it.’

[Indeed, Master. Furthermore, as per your instruction, I also decided to tail one of her ‘friends.’]

‘That gang leader? Lysska?’

[Yes, but I was forced to retreat after being detected. Another of Her Excellency Jade’s servants was accompanying her. An inorganic being— I caught the whiff of a mind sea from her. She was the one who looked directly at the spot I occupied. Yet she made no move, as if she sensed I bore no harmful intent. She simply… carried on.]

‘…Interesting,’ Snežana murmured, her gaze unfocusing as she leaned back against her throne overlooking the arena. Her eyes fluttered shut, fatigue settling behind them. ‘I wish conditions were better… so I could meet her directly.’

[Perhaps that time may soon come, Master.]

‘Hopefully before those fossils screw everything beyond repair. My premonition’s flaring, Moryana. Something’s brewing on the horizon, it’s been gnawing at me all day. Did you sense where Gweneth is?’

The voice remained calm. [Unfortunately not. I have yet to detect any signs of Miss Gweneth. However, regarding the cause of your premonition, I’ll continue to investigate until I find the source, Master.]

‘Hopefully I learn what it is before everything goes to hell. I know it’ll be those fossils, I can feel it in my bones. Keep your eyes on each one of them and report everything. No matter how small, no matter how dull. And make sure your children handle city surveillance properly too.’

[Be at ease. I’ve already summoned them.]

‘Ah, Moryana… what would I ever do without you?’

[Perhaps start by getting Princess Vernia back to her seat, she’s snuck off again.]

‘Leave her be. I hexed her this time, so anyone foolish enough to even target her will permanently regret their existence. And if, by some miracle, they survive… I’ll make sure they don’t. Personally.’

[Very well, Master. I shall return to my duties. Some of the children require… disciplining before they can serve properly as your eyes.]

Snežana didn’t trust Moryana’s children in the slightest, but she couldn’t deny those demon’s strength. She needed every shred of it right now. Oh, how she wished there were a better way to keep her eyes everywhere at once. Easier said than done.

Kind of reminded her of what Veyan once said about that Lysska girl, how she might just possess the kind of ability Snežana so desperately desired.

Might be a good call to meet up with her once this was all over.

If Snežana was still in one piece afterwards.

With Moryana gone, she was alone once again, surrounded by people who only ever looked up to her in fear, and elders who had no respect for her whatsoever. So she might as well enjoy the spectacle.

Her eyes followed Jade, wearing Tomaš Taranov’s skin, as she showcased her very limited abilities. Limited, yes, but the effects were so dramatic that most of the crowd’s eyes were fixed on her. Her section of the arena was the largest, thunder roaring in her wake as she tore through anything in her path at an alarming pace. Four participants were already down by her hands. Two formidable monsters as well.

It was like she knew every trick they could pull. She’d bait them, let them believe they had a chance, then, at the perfect dramatic moment, she’d unleash her trump card. And just one proper hit was all it ever took. If not for the colosseum’s protection, every one of them would’ve been dead in a blink.

But she knew how to put on a show.

Just as Snežana began to relax and enjoy it, she felt Moryana’s mental tether brush against her thoughts again.

‘Any news?’

[Depends on your interpretation. One of my children has sensed Princess Vernia’s father— and your deceased husband— on his way toward the arena.]

‘….’

Instantly, every shred of Snežana's attention snapped into razor-sharp focus.

‘Oh shit.’

[The sentiment is mutual, Master.]