Chapter 176: For Reputation’s Sake
Obviously not.
The delegate’s spine trembled just looking at that human—that human—who had dared to utter such words so calmly, as if taunting them was his profession.
At first, he had thought about fighting back. Maybe even throwing out a few sharp remarks of his own. But when he turned his head, intending to capitalize on the dragon lord’s likely annoyed reaction to this cretin who was overstepping his limits, the words died in his throat.
Because there it was.
The dragon lord’s smile.
Was that a smile? A smirk? A threat?
Who knows?
But it wasn’t the kind of smile that invited comfort or mercy. It was the quiet, devastating amusement of someone very proud of the scene he was watching.
Kael’s lips curved slightly, a faint show of satisfaction, subtle but heavy enough to make the air in the room shift. His golden eyes gleamed, the faintest trace of amusement hiding behind the regal calm that made him look even more dangerous.
Worse, He wasn’t even looking at them or at the Elven King’s reaction. Kael Dravaryn’s body was turned towards the human without even a hint of desire to conceal his body language.
He was a delegate, after all. Even if he was arrogant due to his stature, he couldn’t possibly not know how to read the room in desperate times. It’s just that he hadn’t needed to in a very long time.
So he was sure that it was a smile that said everything without words: my human just dismantled you, and I approve.
The rumors had been true after all.
There really was a human who had taken over the dragon lord’s life, a fragile-looking aide who apparently had the temperament of a smiling executioner.
And the realization hit the delegate like a collapsing mountain.
Everything suddenly clicked into place. The odd insistence of the palace staff. The most recent gossip. All of those were true and were likely the reason the human was confident in speaking to them in this manner.
Now he understood the real danger.
If he said another word, he would probably be beheaded or burned before the echo faded.
"N-no," the delegate stammered, trying to recover what remained of his dignity, "I understand where you’re c-coming from. Ahem. As for the story, maybe another time. I’d prefer to get on with His Majesty’s business."
He attempted a nervous laugh. It came out as a wheeze.
But to his growing horror, the human’s smile only widened.
The delegate’s blood ran cold.
Just what kind of aide was this?!
__
Well, it was the kind of aide who had almost died and was absolutely furious that people weren’t even pretending to repent after being caught.
Riley was seconds away from ignoring the delegate’s attempt to steer the discussion away—just as they had ignored his warnings—when a calm voice interrupted.
"Aide Hale. Dragon Lord Dravaryn."
Everyone turned.
Prince Rowan stood, his tone even but weary. "I know this is being presumptuous," he said, "but would it be possible to discuss this privately?"
He exhaled softly, the exhaustion in his voice betraying the weight of the situation. At this point, excuses didn’t matter. Not that it hadn’t been the case since his mother cursed Riley.
With the humans all healthy before him, he was positive they had found a solution to the curse. If that were the case, then it would have just been a matter of time.
After all, everyone, including the confused delegates in the room, could tell the dragon and the human had cards none of them would like to see.
Riley made a show of thinking it over. He even tilted his head, brows drawn, as though carefully considering the prince’s request.
And in a way, he was—because deep down, he wanted nothing more than to scream to the entire world what these idiots had done.
If not for Finn, he might have done exactly that.
Kael remained silent, eyes fixed on Riley, letting him decide.
After a tense moment, Riley sighed. "Fine. Let’s do that."
He waved his hand toward the door. "Everyone else, you’re dismissed."
The delegates didn’t need to be told twice. They scrambled for the exit with surprising speed, robes fluttering as they practically sprinted down the hall.
Riley couldn’t help but watch them go, muttering, "Yeah, I know the feeling."
If he weren’t so angry today, he probably would’ve joined them just to escape all the lunatics in this room.
When the door finally closed, silence filled the chamber.
Rowan was the first to speak. "Before anything else," he said sincerely, bowing his head slightly, "I owe you an apology. What we have done is inexcusable. I only ask... what would it take to make this right?"
Riley blinked. That was unexpected. Then again, it was Rowan.
Before he could answer, Lord Arlen shot up from his seat. "Rowan! Have you lost your mind? Apologizing? Talking nonsense before outsiders?"
But the prince didn’t flinch. He simply looked at his father, tired and hollow-eyed. "Father," he said quietly, "they already know. At this point, probably more than you."
The words hung in the air like a death sentence.
Lord Arlen laughed nervously, though it came out strained because what was his son even thinking?!
"My son must be unwell. You see, he’s been under great stress lately. To say something so absurd—"
He didn’t finish.
Because Riley had already pulled out his phone. He would’ve loved to use the pen recorder, but he really didn’t want to show it off, in case he lost the chance to use it again.
A soft click, and the room filled with a familiar sound.
"Hurry!"
"I don’t know how long it took us to get up here, so just do it now!"
"Take it out. Fast!"
The voice recording echoed.
The King’s face paled instantly. Riley didn’t need to be an expert in investigating anything to see it—he recognized the voices. The elven lord knew them.
They were his own children.
He looked stunned, but even in his disbelief, Riley could already see him calculating his next move, searching for a way to deny it.
And then Kael moved.
From his seat, the dragon lord raised one hand, conjuring a glowing orb that shimmered with light. A scene began to play—Kael’s own recording.
It showed a dark chamber lined with runic stone and silver vines. The Moonveil Codex rested on a protective pedestal. It wasn’t the pedestal in the sanctum, but it was definitely one protected by runes exclusive to the elven royals.
The image was undeniable.
Kael’s voice cut through the silence. "So," he said evenly, "which child are you planning to sacrifice for your reputation, King Arlen?"
He spoke slowly, each word deliberate, his tone as calm as a blade against the throat.
Lord Arlen twitched violently, his breath catching in his chest.
Lord Arlen’s mind was racing.
Inwardly, he cursed at how careless they had been. Careless and arrogant.
And yet, even now, as the evidence unfolded before him, he was still trying to think his way out of it. He had done everything, he told himself, to rescue a child. That was what he believed—what he needed to believe.
So, since it had come to this, he just needed to find a way to deal with the upcoming case.
If it were a crime against Silvara, then he could still argue a few things. He could demand the judicial right to handle the matter internally. Yes, that was it.
He could claim that his children had acted alone, without his approval, and that as the High Lord of Silvara, he would personally ensure they were punished.
A few years of solitary confinement should suffice. Long enough to appease the dragons, short enough to protect his family.
He was still shaping the argument in his mind when a heavy sigh broke through his spiraling thoughts.
It was the human.
"Lord Arlen," Riley said, voice calm but weary, "I really don’t know how to deal with this anymore—especially considering how many chances we’ve already given."
He shook his head.
Riley had been the one who insisted on seeing how far the elves would go when cornered like this. That was why he hadn’t revealed all the evidence at once. He wanted to see if there would be a change—some hint of remorse.
But what could he expect?
Not everyone could be like Kael.
...Wait, what?
Riley blinked, scowling at himself. Why was he even thinking about that golden lizard right now?
He gave a small shake of his head and focused back on the matter at hand. Fine. No more patience. The man in front of him didn’t deserve any more leniency.
Looking at Lord Arlen’s desperate face, Riley could almost understand why the Queen had gone mad. With a husband like this, who wouldn’t lose their mind?
So much for a ruler who was supposed to understand accountability.
He took a deep breath and pressed play.
A familiar voice filled the room, cold and trembling with madness.
"I cursed him, Rowan. It wasn’t deadly, not at all. Well, not if he stays obedient. But it binds him. The idea came from the Codex. He requires my mana daily now. It is the best way. Dependency will keep him here. He cannot leave. A-and as for the blood, we can ask for it in return!"
There was a pause, followed by a younger, horrified voice.
"You cursed him..."
"The Dragon Lord cannot kill me," the woman’s voice continued, growing sharper, unhinged. "If I die, the human dies. My death will not undo the curse. He would have to protect me. He would have no choice but to keep me alive for his aide’s sake."
A long silence, and then Rowan’s voice again, low with disbelief.
"Mother... he doesn’t need you functional."
"He only needs your mana. That is all. You really think he would hesitate to destroy everything if it meant keeping Riley alive? He wouldn’t need any of us!"
The recording ended.
The silence that followed was suffocating.
Lord Arlen’s face had gone pale, and Riley couldn’t help but think that this was the first time the man had truly understood the scale of the disaster he was in.