Starting out as a Dragon Slave-Chapter 75: Belgaroth causes problems

Akane and Mordred returned discreetly to the reception hall, slowly regaining the lively, tumultuous atmosphere of the royal party. No sooner had they entered than they separated, aware that every second together increased the risk of suspicion. Mordred barely had time to take a few steps away when Elystria’s graceful yet imperious figure appeared directly in front of him, staring at him with a coldly suspicious gaze.

- Mordred, where have you been?" she asked, her low, icy voice betraying a hint of restrained anger.

Maintaining impeccable composure and an inscrutable face, Mordred replied with quiet assurance:

- I was simply looking for a discreet corner to avoid the hostile glances that everyone keeps throwing at me, Princess. I guess I’m not the most popular toy at this party.

The princess squinted slightly, as if assessing the veracity of his words, before finally letting out a light sigh, relaxing imperceptibly:

- Hm, you’re not wrong there. Dragon jealousy knows no bounds. But be careful not to inflame that jealousy any further, or it could turn into a violence you’re not yet ready to face.

- I understand," he replied simply, his impassive face revealing nothing of the inner turmoil that was still agitating him.

Without further ado, Elystria turned, beckoning him to follow her. They strolled slowly through the crowd of guests, exchanging superficial courtesies with some of the nobles who approached them. Mordred remained deliberately silent, his mind still preoccupied with Akane’s terrible revelations.

As they continued to stroll among the guests, a familiar, imposing figure suddenly detached himself from the group and approached the princess: Belgaroth. His face flashed an arrogant smile, but his eyes burned with a provocative coldness as he glared at Mordred.

Without hesitation, he slowly approached Elystria and leaned towards her, whispering a few words directly into her ear. As he spoke, his eyes stared at Mordred with perverse satisfaction, clearly relishing this moment of insolent provocation.

Mordred felt a cold rage rise up inside him instantly, but he forced himself to remain calm and remained motionless, impassive, waiting for the princess’s reaction. Elystria listened attentively to Belgaroth’s whispered words, her brows gradually furrowing as he spoke. When he had finished, she slowly straightened up, staring first at Mordred with a strangely intense gaze, before turning her violet eyes towards Belgaroth with terrifying coldness:

- You’re out of line, Belgaroth," she replied curtly, her voice as sharp as a blade. I categorically refuse your proposal, and I warn you just once: if you ever dare to ask such a thing again, it’s the palace dungeons you’ll find yourself in.

Belgaroth, clearly frustrated by such a brutal and categorical refusal, frowned harshly, his jaw set with ill-contained anger. He crossed his arms over his chest, his arrogance preventing him from withdrawing immediately. Loudly, in front of the guests who were beginning to form a circle around them, he exclaimed with controlled but perfectly perceptible anger:

- Princess, why do you care so much for this wretched slave? What I’m proposing is exactly what you’ve wanted all along. Don’t be blinded by this toy, it’s not worth it...

Elystria’s face immediately turned icy, her piercing gaze exuding an aura of implacable royal authority:

- Watch your tone, Belgaroth. You’re forgetting your place. I owe you no justification, least of all about my personal possessions.

The murmurs of the guests quickly became louder, drawn by the emerging conflict, forming a circle of curiosity around them. Seeing the situation slipping from his grasp, Belgaroth cast a look of contempt and hatred towards Mordred. In a desperate attempt to salvage his shattered pride, he turned his head sharply and spat contemptuously at Mordred.

Mordred reacted instantly, instinctively activating his intangibility skill. The spit passed through his body without reaching him, splashing faintly on the ground behind him. A shocked and stunned silence ran through the crowd, all eyes converging on Mordred with mingled astonishment and interest.

Belgaroth’s face flushed furiously with anger and humiliation, his visible frustration reaching a climax. Before hurrying off, he said, in a voice laden with icy cruelty:

- Very well. Enjoy your little triumph, slave. But remember: your beloved Akane will pay dearly for this arrogance.

At these words, Mordred felt an uncontrollable rage seize him. His fists clenched suddenly, his muscles trembling under the force of his anger, his burning gaze fixed firmly on Belgaroth’s back as he strode away.

Without even thinking further, he retorted in a firm, icy voice, loud enough for all to hear clearly:

- Belgaroth! Just wait until my ninth victory at the Colosseum. On my tenth fight, there will be no draw. Prepare yourself well, because on that day, you’ll understand the true meaning of the word "suffering".

An impressed murmur immediately ran through the crowd, as Belgaroth, frozen in surprise for a moment, slowly turned back to Mordred. A contemptuous smile lit up his face. Without adding a word, Belgaroth turned his back and walked away, disappearing into the crowd.

Elystria placed a light but authoritative hand on Mordred’s arm, her gaze more serious than ever:

- Mordred, I told you to avoid provocations. You’ve just publicly defied one of the five most powerful noble families in the kingdom.

- I have no regrets, Princess," he replied coldly but firmly, his burning gaze fixed on the crowd still watching them avidly. Certain acts must be punished, no matter what the cost.

- Well, Mordred, since you’ve made your choice... prepare yourself, for from now on all eyes will be on you.

He nodded slowly, accepting this new reality without hesitation.

A sudden, solemn silence filled the room as a trumpet sounded, announcing the return of King Aegon and Prince Maelor. Their imposing presence was immediately enough to calm the restless murmurs that had filled the assembly after the confrontation between Mordred and Belgaroth.

King Aegon advanced slowly towards the center of the room, his stern gaze sweeping the crowd with absolute authority, and when he finally met Elystria’s gaze, his eyebrows furrowed intensely, clearly expressing his displeasure at the agitation unworthy of a royal celebration. The princess immediately lowered her eyes, no doubt anticipating a long and difficult discussion ahead.

Aegon inhaled deeply, imposing total calm on the assembly with his presence alone:

- Noble dragons, dear guests, please excuse this unseemly fuss on such an important day. I also ask you to excuse the absence of our queen Alenya, weakened by her exceptional divinatory powers. It is now time to officially begin the coronation ceremony.

Prince Maelor took his turn to step forward, a confident yet serious smile lighting up his perfect face. His imposing, regal aura was already radiating powerfully, immediately inspiring deep respect in the assembly.

- Tonight," King Aegon announced clearly in a powerful voice charged with restrained emotion, "marks the end of a reign and the beginning of a new era. From this moment on, my son, Maelor of the Burning Fangs, will become the new king of dragons. I officially retire from the throne and will henceforth be content to discreetly advise the new sovereign behind the scenes.

An approving murmur went through the crowd, all eyes now focused with admiration and fervor on Prince Maelor, who was slowly advancing towards a finely crafted golden altar, set up especially for this sacred ceremony.

Elystria leaned slightly towards Mordred, whispering discreetly in his ear as she carefully observed the scene:

- Watch carefully, Mordred. This ceremony only takes place every two or three centuries. It’s a historic moment for our people, both political and religious.

- Religious?" asked Mordred curiously, keeping his eyes fixed on Maelor.

- Yes. The coronation of a dragon king can only take place in the presence of the supreme leader of our cult: the Order of the Primordial Dragon. Our official religion, based on the worship of an ancestral god we call "The Original Dragon". It is said that this god created us and gave us dominion over all other peoples. That’s why the coronation cannot be complete without his divine blessing," she explained earnestly.

At these words, an individual in a scarlet robe decorated with gold, wearing a headdress in the shape of a majestic dragon, slowly advanced towards Prince Maelor. In his hands, he held a crown made entirely of pure gold and sparkling precious stones, depicting a dragon’s head with flaming ruby eyes.

The cleric’s deep, powerful voice echoed through the great hall, each word pronounced with sacred solemnity:

- Today, we celebrate the ascension of Prince Maelor to the throne of our great people. Today, our God, the Original Dragon, bestows his blessing on the new ruler of the Burning Fangs. Maelor, do you accept the sacred responsibility of guiding and protecting your people with honor, strength and wisdom?

- I do," replied Maelor in a strong, clear voice, full of pride and unquestionable assurance.

- Then kneel before the gaze of your people and before the gaze of the Dragon God," the cleric declared solemnly.

Prince Maelor dropped to one knee before the sacred altar. The cleric then slowly raised the crown to the sky, and sacred flames suddenly appeared on the altar, provoking a murmur of wonderment from the crowd. The warm, blazing light illuminated the room magnificently, adding an atmosphere of intense magic to the ceremony.

The cleric raised his voice, powerful and vibrant with emotion:

- O great Original Dragon, God of creation and supremacy, grant your divine blessing to the new king. Guide his decisions, strengthen his heart, light his way!

The cleric then slowly raised the golden crown to the sky, reciting ritual words in a deep, vibrant voice. The instant the crown was placed on Maelor’s head, an intense golden light burst forth from the sacred object, irradiating the room with a majestic, almost blinding aura.

Mordred squinted instinctively, but kept his gaze riveted on the scene. The crowd, too, seemed hypnotized, transfixed by the palpable magic emanating from the crown and penetrating deep into the prince’s body.

Instead of dissipating, the golden light became increasingly intense, enveloping Maelor completely, as if he were engulfed by an ancient, powerful energy. Under this luminous aura, the prince’s silhouette began to change subtly, then radically.

Maelor’s size increased considerably, his muscles bulging visibly beneath his ceremonial clothes, which began to tear under the sudden pressure of this unexpected transformation. His skin was gradually covered with glistening scales of deep, almost scarlet red, radiating an intense heat that even Mordred could feel from a distance.

The Prince’s once humanoid body rapidly changed, becoming a perfect symbiosis of human and true draconic form. Powerful scarlet wings, with an impressive wingspan, suddenly emerged from his back, while his hands were transformed into razor-sharp, lethally dangerous claws. His jaw became more protruding, revealing sharp fangs, and his eyes, now a piercing golden yellow, seemed to contain a new wisdom and power, far superior to anything he possessed before.

The prince, or rather king now, had clearly evolved under the direct influence of the coronation, attaining a far more imposing and majestic form, revealing a magical power that far surpassed that of the other dragons present.

An impressed murmur immediately passed through the assembly, followed by shouts of admiration and enthusiastic applause, all deeply impressed by such a spectacular evolution.

- Incredible..., Elystria murmured, fascinated but slightly worried, her eyes fixed on her now-transformed brother. I knew the coronation strengthened our power, but at this point...

- He seems almost invincible," breathed Mordred with a touch of apprehension, unable to look away from the new king.

The cleric slowly spread his arms, solemnly announcing to the assembly:

- Behold the miracle performed by the Original Dragon! King Maelor has been chosen, blessed and transformed by our god. May he lead our people into eternal glory!

Maelor slowly spread his scarlet wings, testing his new powers with obvious satisfaction. His voice, now deeper and more powerful, echoed forcefully through the hall, thrilling every soul present:

- I’m ready to take our people beyond any limits we knew before. This form, this power, I will use to ensure dragon domination forever. Let our enemies tremble before the power offered by our god!

The dragons present, completely transfixed, shouted in unison in absolute allegiance to the new king, their faces reflecting sincere exaltation at this divine demonstration.

Mordred watched in silence. Elystria, standing beside him, murmured softly with an enigmatic smile:

- Now, Mordred, the power game really begins.