The Crimson Dragon Mansion stood beneath the burning skies like the corpse of a forgotten empire.
Ancient crimson towers rose across the volcanic cliffs, their once-glorious architecture now scarred by time, neglect, and political abandonment. Massive dragon statues carved from obsidian lined the outer pathways leading toward the estate, yet many of them were cracked, broken, or stained black from ancient fire.
Once—
This mansion had housed the rulers of the Dragon Realm.
The bloodline of the Almighty Crimson Flame Dragon.
The dynasty feared across countless generations.
Now—
It felt cold.
Empty.
Haunted.
The gigantic crimson gates slowly opened as Velor returned.
And chaos erupted immediately.
"Lord Velor!"
"What happened?!"
"Who injured the young lord?!"
Dozens of retainers rushed toward the entrance courtyard the moment news spread through the mansion. Servants, guards, scholars, and noble retainers hurried through the crimson halls beneath flickering volcanic lanterns while expressions of shock and fury spread rapidly after seeing Velor's condition.
The crimson-haired heir looked battered beyond dignity.
Blood stained his robes.
Bruises spread across his body.
Several crimson scales remained shattered near his neck and arms.
And beside him—
Walked an unfamiliar black dragon.
Silence subtly spread afterward.
Because by the time Velor returned—
Rumors had already arrived first.
A black dragon outsider defeating four noble heirs.
Four candidates connected to the Dragon King succession.
One against four.
The story had spread throughout the capital like wildfire.
And naturally—
The Crimson Mansion heard everything already.
The retainers stared toward Kel carefully now.
Some with awe.
Some with fear.
Some with calculation.
Because no matter how fallen the Crimson Bloodline became—
Power still attracted people.
Especially desperate people.
Sairen softly whispered through the soul-link.
"…This place smells like dying politics."
Kel quietly observed the mansion surroundings while supporting Velor slightly.
She was correct.
The retainers gathering around them clearly lacked unity.
Some genuinely worried about Velor.
Others only looked concerned because of political appearances.
And some—
Some looked terrified.
Not for Velor.
For themselves.
Because if the Crimson Bloodline truly rose again someday…
Every betrayal committed now would eventually be remembered.
The black-haired man calmly observed them all while entering the mansion courtyard.
Medium noble households.
Small declining bloodlines.
Political scavengers.
Some remained loyal to the Crimson Bloodline out of old gratitude or inherited loyalty.
Others clearly stayed only because even a dying dragon house still carried ancient influence and hidden resources worth exploiting.
Kel recognized such people immediately.
Every collapsing empire attracted parasites.
Meanwhile—
An elderly retainer rushed forward anxiously toward Velor.
His crimson robes looked old yet carefully maintained while faded draconic scales decorated the sides of his aged face.
"Young lord…"
The old dragon's voice trembled slightly.
"Please tell us what happened."
Velor remained silent briefly.
Those burning crimson eyes shifted slightly toward Kel.
The retainers immediately noticed.
And naturally—
Their attention focused entirely upon the black dragon outsider now.
One noble retainer narrowed his eyes cautiously.
"…Are you the one from the arena?"
Kel calmly looked toward him.
"Yes."
Silence followed.
Several retainers visibly stiffened afterward.
Because hearing rumors and seeing reality were entirely different things.
The black dragon standing before them looked calm.
Controlled.
Almost ordinary.
Which somehow made the rumors more terrifying.
One younger retainer stepped forward hesitantly.
"…Is it true?"
Kel tilted his head slightly.
"What part?"
"That you defeated four succession candidates alone."
The mansion courtyard fell quieter instantly.
Everyone waited for the answer.
Kel calmly answered.
"They attacked recklessly."
Not denial.
Not confirmation.
Yet somehow—
That response sounded even more terrifying.
Because it implied defeating them had not even been difficult.
The volcanic winds drifted softly through the open mansion gates while crimson banners fluttered weakly above ancient towers.
And slowly—
Fear began mixing with curiosity throughout the gathered retainers.
Because suddenly—
The existence of this black dragon outsider created possibility.
Hope.
Dangerous hope.
If the Crimson heir truly gained support from someone powerful…
Then perhaps the dying Crimson Bloodline still had a chance to rise again.
Meanwhile—
Velor finally spoke quietly.
"He helped me."
Simple words.
Yet they carried enormous weight.
Because Velor trusted no one.
Everyone inside the mansion knew that.
He rarely defended people.
Rarely acknowledged anyone positively.
And yet—
He openly stated that this outsider helped him.
The retainers exchanged subtle looks immediately.
Calculations began instantly behind countless eyes.
Political value shifted.
Kel silently observed everything while walking deeper into the mansion beside Velor.
No one stopped him.
No one dared.
Because the rumors alone already transformed him into something dangerous within their minds.
The Demonic Black Dragon.
A being powerful enough to cripple noble heirs tied to succession bloodlines.
Even guards instinctively lowered their gazes slightly as Kel passed through the massive crimson halls.
The atmosphere inside the mansion felt ancient.
Heavy.
Gigantic portraits of former Crimson Dragon Kings lined the walls beneath burning mana lanterns. Their crimson eyes seemed almost alive within the darkness while ancient draconic carvings decorated pillars throughout the estate.
Yet despite the grandeur—
Decay lingered everywhere.
Cracks spread subtly across walls.
Sections of the mansion lacked maintenance.
Servants moved quietly like ghosts afraid of making noise.
This was not the residence of rulers anymore.
This was the residence of survivors.
Kel quietly looked toward one massive portrait hanging above the central hall staircase.
The Almighty Crimson Flame Dragon himself.
Even painted—
The former Dragon King radiated terrifying dominance.
Massive crimson horns.
Golden slit eyes.
A gaze sharp enough to pressure souls.
The father of Velor.
The most feared Dragon King in history.
And now—
His son walked wounded beneath that portrait while political vultures surrounded his bloodline waiting for final collapse.
Sairen softly whispered inside the soul-link.
"…Fate can be cruel."
Kel quietly looked toward Velor walking beside him.
The crimson-haired heir's posture remained straight despite injuries.
No weakness shown.
No pain acknowledged.
Only silence.
And strangely—
That stubbornness reminded Kel exactly why this broken dragon would eventually become a monster feared across worlds.
Because hatred alone did not create conquerors.
Endurance did.