(Meanwhile, Veyr's POV, Planet Tithia)
While Leo spent his time with Amanda, Veyr chose to unwind from the burdens of war in his own way, by indulging in new restaurants and surrendering himself to luxurious massages that loosened his weary body.
It was a path entirely different from Leo's, yet one he thoroughly enjoyed, partly because such pleasures genuinely calmed his mind, and partly because of the reverence with which the Cult commoners treated him no matter where he went.
For wherever he stepped within their domain, he was received not merely as a guest, but as someone greater than a king, almost like he were a God.
Restaurant owners wept with joy at his arrival, their hands trembling as they served him meals prepared with reverence, while masseuses competed fiercely for the honor of laying their hands upon the Dragon, each of them carrying out the task with unrestrained devotion.
It was a reality far removed from the days of his orphaned youth, where he longed for the faintest scrap of affection.
As now, he was drenched in it wherever he turned, his every word met with admiration, his very presence enough to ignite worship in the eyes of the common folk.
At first, such treatment had left him feeling awkward, as he was unable to reconcile the boy he had been with the godlike figure they now revered.
Yet with nearly a year passing since he was named Dragon, he had finally grown more accustomed to it, as he accepted their devotion with a steadier heart and carried himself with the grace his position demanded.
'I have accepted these people as my people... I can no longer claim that I am still the lone wolf that I once was...'
The thought echoed through Veyr's mind as he leaned back against the cushioned chair of the bathhouse, steam rising in lazy curls, yet none of its warmth could match the fire that now burned in his chest.
Once, he had been content to look after himself alone, to snatch what scraps he could from the world and to laugh bitterly at its cruelty, telling himself that no one would ever care enough to stand beside him, so why should he bother caring in return?
That boy had been selfish, shortsighted, and blind to the weight of others.
But that boy was now long gone.
Somewhere along the line—between the battles he had fought, the children who raised wooden swords in his name and the old women who kissed his hands and blessed his path, something inside him had shifted.
Their pain had become his pain.
Their hunger gnawed at his own stomach.
Their fear kept him awake in the quiet hours of the night.
And for the first time, he realized he did not resent this tether, but that he embraced it.
'This Cult... this fractured, blood-stained, despised thing... is mine to guide now. Their destiny is my burden, their survival my duty. And if I must stain my hands black with sins untold to drag them toward greatness, then I'll do that too—'
He exhaled slowly, his reflection wavering across the water's surface like a stranger's face, though he knew it was not a stranger at all.
Unbeknownst to him, somewhere in the endless pretending, in the constant demand to wear the mantle of "Dragon," he had ceased merely playing the role.
He had become the Dragon
The Cult's savior.
And there was no turning back anymore.
(Meanwhile on the Eternal Garden, Kaelith's POV)
"Are you certain Mauriss has not discovered that you are actually a Demi God and not merely a Monarch?" Kaelith asked, his voice carrying an edge of anger that made the air inside the Eternal Garden feel heavier than usual.
Raymond shook his head firmly, his confidence unwavering.
"He cannot have known. And even if he suspects it, I'm certain that he holds no proof.
My Demi God aura is undetectable.
If even you cannot sense it, father, then no one can. I have complete faith that it is hidden."
Raymond claimed, as Kaelith's eyes narrowed, his expression souring at the boy's certainty, his disappointment plain for Raymond to see.
"Child, do you grasp the consequences if Mauriss or Helmuth were to uncover what you are? At best, they would kill you outright. At worst, they would demand that I do it with my own hands..."
For that was the pact the three of us swore upon, years ago.
Kaelith said, as the words sank like lead into Raymond's chest, a shiver running through him at the mere thought of ever standing against his father in combat.
"I am certain, father. He cannot have discovered my secret, which makes it all the more troubling that he wishes to meet me in private. Nothing good can possibly come of such an invitation from Mauriss the Deceiver."
Raymond expressed, as Kaelith exhaled slowly, his shoulders rising in a faint shrug of indifference, though his eyes gleamed with unease.
"No one knows what schemes churn within Mauriss's head, as at times, even I doubt if he knows what he's doing..."
Which is precisely why he is so dangerous.
His unpredictability is his weapon, and those who try to second-guess him often find themselves already ensnared.
You are right to be wary.
Nothing good has ever come from a private meeting with him, so I'll say that you were wise to retreat here, to the Eternal Garden.
If you want my advice, I'll say that you should stay out of sight until he occupies his mind elsewhere.
As in the meantime, I will try to uncover his true reason for summoning you."
Kaelith advised as Raymond gave a slow nod, the weight of his father's words settling upon him.
By now, He had understood that this was no matter for pride or defiance.
And that it was a sensitive issue that needed to be handled with patience, delicacy, and with the kind of caution that ensured survival.
(More chapters in Buyers club for TMT)