Chapter 103

The one who brought an end to the wanderings of the boy was his stepbrother. One day, amidst the long and wearisome journey where he felt neither fully human nor entirely dragon, the boy found himself face-to-face with his disapproving stepbrother, Noyer. 

“Why torment yourself, Rezette?” Noyer demanded, his voice laced with annoyance. “Live as you were born.”

“Live as I am?” Rezette echoed, the confusion evident.

“You were born a predator,” Noyer continued, his tone harsh, “why mimic humans? Embrace your draconic heritage. Do you really want to become human?”

Noyer’s frustration stemmed from Rezette’s refusal to participate in the coming war. Having seized the Van Yela throne in a coup, Noyer craved further dominion. To ascend as the ruler of the Grandel Northern Alliance, a dominant empire across the continent, he needed to conquer at least half of the north.

Only Rezette, the unique dragon-human, possessed the power and loyalty to secure victory. Humanity wasn’t a requirement. Noyer believed Rezette’s yearning for a wider world was a dangerous path, and his voice hardened.

“Deny yourself these fantasies. Loyalty is the sole virtue you need, Kyrstan. That’s all.”

Rezette remained silent, a cold dread gripping his heart.

“A childish dream,” Noyer scoffed. “Your very blood separates you from humanity.” The man who had named him, the one who brought him into the human world, tossed a dagger at his feet.

He was forever an outsider, a being who belonged to neither dragons nor humans. A yearning filled his chest as he pleaded, “I refuse to be a monster, but if I can’t be human, where do I belong?”

“Live as your name dictates,” Noyer countered. “It carries the meaning of ‘devotee.'”

“Devotee?” Rezette echoed.

“Originally, it meant servants of the gods,” Noyer continued, his voice laced with a chilling mockery. “But gods offer no answers. So serve those made in their image – humans! Prove your worth to me, your master. Then I will judge your life.”

Noyer’s cruelty escalated. “Those women I sent? Dead. A test you failed. Now you are nothing. Zero. Understand?” He waved a dismissive hand. “Prepare for war, brother. Do your duty. Perhaps then, I may grant you the ‘privilege’ of humanity.”

Rebecca, had she been within earshot, would have scoffed at Noyer’s ramblings. Yet, to the boy, those very ramblings felt like a guiding light.

He left the study with a newfound purpose. Impulsively, he sought solace in the palace cathedral. There, beneath the looming crucifix, he spent the day transfixed, the nonsensical prayers of his former master, Galeus, echoing in his mind: “In the presence of the Lord above all things, grant me another day…”

The Lord above all things. The Absolute. Beings who supposedly acknowledged humans as divine creations.

The boy remained oblivious to the judging gazes burning into his back. Disdain, fear, terror – these were the emotions he inspired, not kinship. Wealth and fame couldn’t erase his alienation.

‘Unquestioning obedience.’ A pang struck him as he realized the days under Galeus, despite the absurdity, had been the most comfortable.

Noyer’s words, laced with contempt, echoed: prove your worth, your very existence. This, while being treated worse than a commoner, an outcast in both worlds.

It was a twisted logic, yet it resonated.

He returned to Rotiara, a new resolve hardening his features. With unwavering determination, he pushed back the encroaching forces: neighboring countries and the southern nomads, all eyeing his domain.

***

The young Duke, fueled by youthful zeal, didn’t stop at securing Rotiara. When Van Yela declared a war of conquest, he raced to the battlefield, arriving before the imperial army even reached Rotiara’s borders.

Three grueling years later, he returned a changed man. Rotiara’s borders had expanded by a third under his leadership. The boy who left was gone, replaced by a hardened young man of twenty-three. He carried no visible trace of his arduous journey, as if he’d simply shaken off dust.

His brother’s words echoed in his mind. Perhaps blind obedience wasn’t so bad after all. A life worshipping authority figures, like basking in the sun’s warmth, was undeniably easier. He could live as a loyal servant, human when convenient, and a ferocious dragon when the situation demanded it. It was a life without complexities.

Upon his return to Rotiara at twenty-four, Rezette discovered his land and castle under the watchful eyes of those who had managed them in his absence. A ruthless purge followed. These weren’t loyal stewards; they were spies, planted by envious nobles who coveted Rotiara’s riches. Rezette protected those he considered his own, but traitors found no mercy.

Only Rebecca Petisson, among the managers, survived the purge. Alfred, a newcomer, filled the vacant steward position, and Sobeul rose to become the new advisor.

Twenty-five found Rezette traversing the continent, a yearning for rare treasures tugging at him – a childhood habit that lingered. These glittering trinkets held a fleeting allure, eventually adorning Rotiara Castle like forgotten trophies.

By twenty-six, the collecting frenzy subsided. Perhaps the newfound stability of his domain, or the receding madness that once plagued him, had quelled the desire. His power, once nebulous, was now a tightly grasped weapon. He could topple emperors, reshape empires – Van Yela could become Rotiara with a mere word. The blind loyalty he once held for his manipulative stepbrother had faded. Rezette saw him clearly now.

Yet, there was no spark of rebellion. Though death held no fear, it brought no pleasure either. The comfortable life of a loyal servant, albeit to a deceitful master, held a strange appeal. Orchestrating a coup felt unnecessary. If he craved servitude, he could always journey to the temple of the Creator, the one who birthed them all.

At twenty-seven, a flicker of stability crumbled for Rezette. A woman named Genovia Irrien had kissed him. The gesture ignited a dormant madness within him, a surge of primal urges he thought long suppressed. In a frenzy, he almost killed Genovia, but his monstrous outburst claimed the lives of two innocent bystanders instead. When clarity returned, Rezette found himself stained with the blood of strangers, their names and faces lost in the haze of his rage.

The taste of sin was revolting. He purged every monster den he could find, a desperate attempt to cleanse himself. Finally, he relinquished his position as ambassador to Argan, severing ties with Van Yela. It was time to leave this suffocating land.

Southward he ventured, beyond the vast central desert, until he arrived in a land of verdant fertility. And there, bathed in the golden light, stood the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

***

Rezette needed no effort to recall the first time he saw Elizabeth. Every detail remained vivid – the color of her dress, the ornament in her hair, even the trivial details of her drink choice and duration at the ball. In fact, anyone who witnessed her once wouldn’t soon forget. Her beauty was unmatched, a singular radiance that eclipsed everything else in the room.

Rumors had swirled around the Argan princess. While not a mage like her twin brother, the former Argan emperor had declared them equals, granting her a status near-identical to royalty. Essentially, Elizabeth embodied everything Rezette could desire.

Her hair and eyes surpassed any jewel in his vast collection. Her status dwarfed even the Van Yelan emperor’s. And her life, untouched by the abyss he’d plunged into at the gods’ command, was a dream come true. The perfect counterpart to his own tormented existence.

He vividly recalled her sole dance partner, the aged Duke of Bellator. Beneath the glittering chandeliers, she was the light of the entire ballroom. Even now, the jolt when their eyes met across the vast space sent a thrill through him. As the princess murmured something to her brother, Rezette couldn’t help but wonder – was she asking about him? His mouth went dry with a nervous anticipation.

Rezette, head of the Van Yela delegation, performed his duty, greeting the Argan Emperor with polite pleasantries. Yet, his focus remained on the princess. Her captivating presence drew his gaze, but it was short-lived. Her twin brother, with a gentle murmur, ushered her away, the princess’s radiant form disappearing from the ballroom like a dream. 

A jolt of frustration lanced through Rezette. He hadn’t even learned her name.