Drona Lionheart stood motionless in the sky, his gaze cold and unreadable. The battlefield was eerily silent, not because of discipline or restraint, but because fear had seized the hearts of all present.
The once-mighty Jason Mama, head of the Nine Realms Association, stood dead, implanted upon an enchanted spear. His lifeless body, stiffened by the lingering energy of the divine weapon, stood upright, like a monument to his sudden and unexpected demise.
Not a single voice dared to rise in protest.
The generals of the Nine-Realms-army looked around at each other, their faces pale, searching for guidance, for some command to counter the absurdity of what had just happened.
The sworn wizards, though battered and bruised, held their breath, waiting for the next move. The skies above, once crowded with the spies of the Space God and the lesser deities who had come to witness the supposed fall of the sworn wizards, remained eerily still. Even the winds of war had ceased.
At last, a voice shattered the silence.
“Father… what did you do?” Ryon Lionheart’s voice was weak, almost childlike. He was not looking at Jason Mama’s corpse but at his own father, at the man whose word had once shaped the empire.
Drona did not look at his son. His gaze remained fixed ahead, over the broken battlefield, over the thousands of corpses that littered the ground like discarded remnants of a failed ambition.
“You should be asking yourself that, Ryon,” Drona said at last. His voice was calm, but in that calmness lay an unbearable weight. “You should ask yourself how it came to this.”
Ryon clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms. His eyes burned with frustration. “Jason Mama was the only man keeping the Nine Realms stable! He was the one leading us to victory! And you—” his voice cracked with a mixture of disbelief and rage, “—you killed him? You’ve doomed us all!”
Drona finally turned his gaze toward Ryon.
“This happened because of you,” he said simply.
Ryon flinched, his body tensing as his father’s words cut through him.
“I told you to hand the empire over to Kent. I told you to make peace with Clark Lady. But what did you do?” His voice was dripping with disappointment. “You spat in my face. You spat in fate’s face. And because of your stubbornness, thousands lie dead. You even imprisoned your own brother. Don’t you feel any shame?”
“My own brother conspired against me!” Ryon shouted, his fury bubbling over. “How could I show him mercy?! And as for Kent—” his gaze snapped toward the young man standing tall amidst the wreckage, his golden armor still gleaming despite the battlefield’s filth, “—HE IS NOT MY SON!”
A murmur rippled through the battlefield.
The words had been spoken before, but now, with everything at stake, they held a weight they had never carried before.
“I only have two sons! Max and Phillip! They have already mastered the Sun-Moon Eclipse Art! That proves their bloodline!”
Drona let out a cold chuckle.
“You are a fool.”
Ryon’s entire body shook in anger.
Drona sighed, shaking his head. “Those two bastards—Max and Phillip—are not your sons, Ryon. They are not of Lionheart blood. And they never were.”
Silence.
A deadly silence.
Every soldier, every sworn wizard, every onlooker froze in place.
Even Kent narrowed his eyes at the revelation.
“You’re lying,” Ryon whispered. “You have to be.”
Drona exhaled, as if speaking to a slow child. “You’ve spent your life raising two filth-born mongrels while rejecting your only true son.”
He pointed toward Kent, his expression unreadable.
“Your only son. Kent Lionheart. The Dragon Lord Respected.”
The words sent a ripple across the battlefield.
The soldiers of the Forbidden Army, trained to obey the Lionheart lineage above all else, fell to their knees without hesitation. Their heads bowed in perfect unison.
“Your Majesty,” they spoke in one voice.
Kent said nothing. His face remained unreadable, his eyes dark and calculating.
Madam Clark, standing behind him, let out a sharp breath. Even she had not expected this.
Ryon, still standing in the sky, trembled, his hands shaking violently.
“No…” He shook his head. “No, you’re wrong! Max and Phillip—”
“They fooled you, Ryon.” Drona’s voice was absolute. “They used malicious dark arts to fake their mastery of the Sun-Moon Eclipse Art. That’s why they never truly mastered it.”
Ryon was breathing heavily now, like a cornered beast.
“I don’t believe you! How could they have fooled the Five Mountain Spirits?! How could my own wife—”
Drona scoffed. “Your wife?” He spat the word like poison. “Your so-called wife, Soya, told me the truth herself.”
Ryon’s breath hitched.
Drona’s expression turned steely. “And she has paid the price for betraying the Lionheart bloodline.”
With a flick of his wrist, he tossed something onto the ground.
A severed head rolled forward.
Soya’s lifeless eyes stared blankly ahead, frozen in terror.
Ryon’s knees buckled.
The battlefield was utterly still.
Ryon stared at the head, his mouth opening and closing, but no words came out.
“No…” he whispered. “No, this isn’t real…”
His hands shook as he reached for the head, his fingers trembling.
“She… she was my wife…”
Drona’s face was as cold as ever. “She was a traitor.”
Ryon’s entire body trembled.
At last, Drona raised his hand attracting everyone’s attention.
“This war ends now.”
His voice carried across the battlefield like a divine command.
“All soldiers of the Nine Realms Army… return home. The Sworn Wizards’ rule will stand. Any who defy this order will be executed on the spot.”
The soldiers hesitated.
Then, slowly, one by one, weapons began to fall to the ground.
Armor clattered.
Men and women who had moments ago fought for their lives were now turning away, their backs to the battlefield.
The war… was over.
At least, for now.
Drona lowered his hand. His expression remained cold and unreadable.
And then, a voice cut through the air.
A voice that carried no joy, no triumph—only chilling finality.
“I am not satisfied.”
Kent said loudly and his voice reverberated all around the battlefield.
His golden armor gleamed under the blood-red sky, his eyes burning with something far deeper than revenge.
Drona met his grandson’s gaze with a questioning look.
For the first time, Drona felt something unsettling. Everyone turned towards Kent with great curiosity.