(Within Cult controlled planets, Ten Days After Nemo)
Ten days had passed since the victory on Nemo, yet across the planets flying the Cult's banner, it was still the only story people told, the only event worth repeating, the only triumph that cut through the haze of everyday struggle.
In the crowded markets of Vorthas, merchants leaned across their stalls to talk of it, their voices joyous and brimming with pride, as though they themselves had stood in the trenches beside the Dragon Army.
Children ran between the stalls shouting "I am the Dragon!" their small fists raised in imitation of Aegon Veyr, whose name had now become a chant not confined to soldiers but woven into the breath of the common folk.
On Belas, miners returned from their shafts with aching backs and soot-stained faces, yet even as they dropped their tools they spoke of the battle, recounting in vivid tones how Veyr's blade had carved legions apart, how his presence had steadied the lines, how he had turned the tide.
They had not seen it, of course, but word of mouth had painted the image clearer than any crystal recording could, and for them that was enough.
In the taverns of Tithia, cups slammed against wooden tables as soldiers on leave lifted their voices, singing rough hymns in Veyr's name, their drunken joy spilling into the streets where crowds gathered simply to listen, to be reminded that their faction had stood tall against one of the Five Great Clans and endured.
For the common folk, it was not merely a victory— it was proof that the Cult was on the rise once more.
That the Dragon had returned!
And though Aegon Veyr's name stood brightest, it was not the only one whispered.
A second name drifted through the chatter, softer but persistent, as Leo's role, though under-reported back home, still brought him a lot of praise.
His deeds were spoken of in awe, especially among the younger generation who saw in him a symbol of what the Cult could still produce, a promise that the age of heroes was not over.
Ten days had passed, yet the victory on Nemo was still fresh, still alive in every conversation, still stitched into the rhythm of daily life, and this naturally rubbed some of the Cult Elder's the wrong way.
"The commoners are starting to be swayed by the achievements of the Dragons way too much.
At the rate their influence is growing, soon they won't be answerable to the Elder's Council anymore...." The First Elder complained, as across from him sat the two people he trusted the most.
On the right, with his arms folded, sat the Third Elder, who simply nodded and agreed with everything the First Elder said, while on the left sat Chaosbringer, who was posing as the Twelfth Elder who was recently promoted to the post of the Seventh Elder.
"After this conquest of Nemo is over, we must bury them in training for at least six months to a year, and keep them well away from public eyes.
We need to let their fame cool down a bit,before assigning them a new planetary mission." The First Elder suggested, as immediately, Chaosbringer felt his skin crawl in disgust.
This was the first time he was meeting the First Elder in a private setting, and already, he hated him to his bone.
"Yes... yes, you're absolutely right, Lord First, we must clip their wings while we still can." The Third Elder resonated, as both of them turned to look towards Chaosbringer.
"Well, while I won't deny that their fame is indeed swelling, nor will I deny that it carries risks, I do believe you are miscalculating the opportunity that lays before us," Chaosbringer began, his words carefully measured, his expression calm, though beneath his calm mask and steady eyes burned a hatred he could scarcely contain.
"The universal landscape is currently unsettled. The Su Clan crumbles by the day, their planets snatched by defectors and Great Clans alike.
Now is not the time to rein our Dragons in, but to release them again, to let them carry the banner of the Cult into another conquest.
Each victory builds momentum. Each conquest fortifies our position. To bury them in training now is to waste the tide of fortune running at our backs."
He let his words hang in the air, daring the First Elder to see reason. However, unfortunately....
"No—" the First Elder snapped before Chaosbringer had even finished, his voice sharp enough to cut the silence.
"We will not gamble on another conquest. The Dragon Army should quit while it is ahead. Nemo was a triumph, yes, but such triumphs are dangerous. They inflate egos, they sow recklessness, they embolden the people in ways that weaken their respect for the Council. What we require now is consolidation, not expansion."
He said, his voice growing slower, heavier, each syllable deliberate as though he wished to etch the words into the very stone of the chamber they currently sat in.
"The Dragons will be drawn back into training. We will keep them away from public eyes and we shall smother their wildfire before it spreads further.
And when the people ask why they performed so well, why they cut through the Yu Clan as though they were born for war— we will make sure the answer is clear."
His lips twisted into a smile that never touched his eyes.
"It will not be because of their bravery, or their talent, or their spirit. No. It will be because of us. Because of the Elders. We will tell the masses that their victories come only from the secret arts we bestowed upon them, from the divine training we provided, from the wisdom of the Council. Their fame will feed into ours, and their glory will be redirected to the body that truly leads the Cult—the Elders Council."
First Elder suggested, as the Third Elder, ever the sycophant, nodded eagerly, and added in a hissing tone, "Yes, yes, the people must not forget that Dragons are but tools, sharpened and wielded by the Council's hand. Without us, they would be nothing."
Listening to this response, Chaosbringer smiled faintly, though inside he was seething, his stomach turning at the venomous hypocrisy that dripped from their mouths.
If it were possible, he would have torn both of these esteemed Elders down where they sat, but for now he neither had the means not the strength to do so.
Still, he marked the two of them as enemies that needed to be removed, as although he did nothing today, He vowed to start plotting for their demise from this moment onwards.
(More chapters in Buyers club for TMT)