Chapter 383: Uncovered
They had expected Chancellor Malrik to be difficult.
From the moment they saw how he handled Orien’s disappearance, to his selective rule-breaking, and the questionable way he governed the Nest, it had been obvious that something wasn’t right. At the very least, they were prepared to uncover something scandalous. Possibly even treasonous.
And frankly, the only reason they hadn’t dragged him out in the open based on nothing more than vibes and his treatment of Riley was because, up until recently, the ex-mortal had been concerned about the long-term political effects of Kael being painted as a tyrant.
Not that the beings of Eryndra didn’t already hold that opinion.
But there was a difference between quiet suspicion and giving dragons a reason to act on it.
Taking down someone like Malrik, who appeared well-loved and deeply embedded in the Nest’s structure, could easily be twisted into something else. Especially when that "someone" had spent years brainwashing people through his own special brand of indoctrination.
So yes, they expected something serious.
But not this.
Not something as unforgivable as selling out all of Eryndra, including himself. For what, exactly?
Unfortunately, that was part of the gruesome truth they uncovered in the end.
__
With Riley’s alarming discovery, everyone else moved at once, throwing open every door on that floor with a speed that would’ve even caught skittish insects off guard.
Sure enough, what they found inside could have driven anyone with a relatively intact moral compass mad.
Rooms and rooms, all housing unnaturally slumbering dragonlings.
The sight alone was enough to make their expressions darken, but what truly cemented the situation was what Lady Cirila saw.
It was the first door she opened on her side.
Her gaze went first to his eyes. Unfocused. Dazed.
Then to the jar he was holding.
Then, to the dragonling laid out before him.
And finally—
To the dragon claw resting beside them.
Ah.
So that was how they had been drawing blood.
Something in her snapped.
The dragon lady saw red. She moved to kill him without hesitation.
She moved quickly, far too quickly for the attendant inside to react. One moment, he was standing there, jar in hand. Next, she was already in front of him.
But Kael reached him first.
He was just as furious, his presence pressing down on the room like a storm about to break, yet instead of killing the attendant, he struck him unconscious.
Clean, immediate, and annoyingly controlled for the kind of horror she felt she needed to unleash on someone who clearly deserved it.
That restraint only made things worse.
Lady Cirila turned on him at once, indignant and furious, demanding the attendant’s death even as she moved to check on the youngling.
Why would her son even stop her at this rate?!
But the answer didn’t come from Kael.
It came from Riley Hale.
"Mom, if we kill him now, the Chancellor will know we’ve caught on. Right now, he’s away from the Nest. If the connection from the sigil breaks, he’ll likely run."
It wasn’t what she wanted to hear.
But it was the truth.
The rest of the sweep carried on in tense silence.
The golden dragons moved through the floor like a contained disaster, their patience wearing thinner with every door they opened. Every attendant they found was subdued. It didn’t matter whether they bore strange sigils or not. Suspicion alone was enough.
By the time they were done, they had accounted for everyone on that level.
Everyone except one.
"Tch."
Kael clicked his tongue, irritation sharp and unhidden.
There was no room for mistakes now.
The attendants couldn’t be left conscious. Not with unknown sigils involved, not with the possibility of them activating something at the worst possible moment. They were all sedated, secured, and stripped of any immediate threat.
Riley didn’t argue with that decision.
If anything, he was the most cautious.
Because he knew exactly what a blood sigil could do as someone who used to depend on it for protection.
Sure, they definitely didn’t have the same one, but with someone as crazy as Chancellor Malrik, who would know if any of those guys could spread poison just by breathing?
Better safe than sorry.
He wasn’t willing to risk anyone suddenly gaining power while they were still trying to piece things together.
Yes, they would have been helpful, but torture wouldn’t be effective against those forcibly silenced, and so there wouldn’t have been any point in wasting time on them.
Thankfully, they didn’t need the attendants to continue the investigation at the moment.
Not for tracking mana.
And certainly not for tracking dragon blood.
Because if there was anyone who could do that—
It was Riley Hale.
The last black dragon and the one sporting the purest of its kind. If someone were to identify derivatives, then who else would be better at it than him?
Unfortunately, as someone who had learned to track dragon blood from his ancestors, that also made him the first person who wanted to barf at what he ended up seeing.
Just how could someone be so vile?
Especially against his own people?
__
Their search led them to a lagoon.
Weirdly enough, it was the kind found in dragon estates in the form of their unreasonably luxurious bathrooms.
Maybe that was why no one had managed to find the damned place all this time.
Riley had already been feeling off on the way there, but the moment he realized what lay beneath it, that unease settled into something heavier.
The Chancellor had built some sort of lair under this place.
"Here?" Lord Karion asked, glancing around with clear disbelief.
"Not exactly here, Dad. More like...under all this," Riley said, gesturing toward the water.
He stepped closer to the edge, eyes narrowing slightly as he studied the surface.
"Honestly, I think there’s another way in. Something less destructive than what we’re planning," he added. "But this spot? This is where the barrier feels thinnest."
He paused, brow furrowing.
"It’s probably warded. If we force our way through, we might alert him."
"Master. I can go in your stead."
The voice came out of nowhere.
Riley blinked and turned. "What?"
Thyrran suddenly appeared, calm as always and definitely sleeker than ever.
Gone were the days of his baby fat era, and in were the days when he certainly looked like a menacing serpent, albeit in a more compact form.
"I’m a construct of mana," he said. "I don’t need to physically enter. I can merge with the medium and investigate from within the ward."
He tilted his head in a graceful slither.
"If he’s even remotely sensible, the place would likely be rigged to self-destruct. No one would hide something like this without a contingency."
Riley hesitated. That definitely made sense even to him. And while he was hoping that the Chancellor wasn’t sensible enough for security 101, he didn’t feel the need to take stupid risks.
"But Thyrran...would that be alright?" he asked, unable to hide the concern in his voice.
Riley had been meaning to talk to him about this. About what it really meant to be a construct. About what "death" would even look like for him.
But this probably wasn’t how that conversation should start. So Thyrran better survive until he could understand him better.
"Yes, Master. Please wait for my findings."
There was a certain finality to it.
And just like that, Thyrran moved.
But maybe it would’ve been better if he’d warned Riley first.
Because the next moment, the fidgeting black dragon felt it. No—he saw it.
No warning. No buildup.
Just impact.
His vision slammed into something that wasn’t his own.
A corridor stretched before him, long and narrow, disappearing into the distance like it had no end. The walls on either side were lined with glass vats, arranged in neat, suffocating rows.
Every single one of them was filled with something he hoped he wouldn’t be able to recognize.
Red.
For a brief second, his mind refused to process it. It lagged behind, trying to make sense of what he was seeing.
But his body didn’t wait.
Riley dropped to the ground, his lungs locking up as he dragged in air too quickly, too sharply, like breathing alone could anchor him back to himself.
Vats and vats of what definitely looked like blood.
So much blood.
His stomach churned, and his vision blurred.
"Blergh—!"
__
Meanwhile, as the group uncovered the kind of enemy that had been festering right under their noses, that very same individual had already made his way to their target’s dwelling.
Only to find it empty.
That, at least, wasn’t surprising.
But even from afar, blending behind the insignificant mortals rushing about to secure the place, he could tell that not only had their target left the place, but also how, sure enough, he’d managed to shift into his dragon form.
Chancellor Malrik felt no amusement at the discovery. If anything, his irritation only deepened.
Useless.
The attendant had one job.
One.
And still managed to fail.
For a moment, Malrik seriously considered just dealing with that incompetent fool as he turned away from the scene.
A waste of time.
That was what this entire detour had been.
But just as he was about to leave, a voice nearby cut through the noise.
"Hey! Have you heard? The MBE got attacked by a dragon!"
"What?!"
The chatter spread instantly.
"Dragons are strong, sure, but who in their right mind would attack a place run by their own leader?"
The humans gathered in clusters, whispering, exclaiming, passing around those small rectangular devices, completely absorbed in the chaos unfolding before them.
It was panic-worthy gossip to most.
But to Malrik, it was information.
And just like that, the pieces started falling into place.
A faint smile tugged at his lips, cold and knowing.
"Well," he murmured under his breath, gaze sharpening,
"Who else could it be... but someone who conveniently forgot that he had always been a dragon..."