Dragon's Awakening: The Duke's Son Is Changing The Plot-Chapter 99 - 98 - Two Legends and the Chaotic Carriage.

In the cold, quiet core of the Vaise family estate—a fortress more like a mausoleum than a home—two legends sat across from each other in a chamber designed to contain magic that could obliterate kingdoms.

Argon Von Vaise sat still on his obsidian throne-like seat, hands steepled, his eyes half-lidded like he was bored of existence itself.

The man had the presence of a glacier given form—ancient, cold, and crushing. His aura flickered like thin ice on a lake before a storm.

Across from him was the polar opposite in every definition.

Crisaius Von Vaise was half-sitting, half-sprawled over a velvet chair he had probably brought himself because the rest of the room was made of black steel and serious furniture.

His long white hair was tied in a messy knot, his robe was askew, and his beard was full of toast crumbs.

He was sipping tea from a skull-shaped mug with a tiny paper umbrella in it.

"...And then I told that beast, ’Listen, if I wanted a pet with commitment issues, I’d adopt a cat, not form a soul pact with a cosmic lizard,’ and it exploded. Literally exploded! All over my robe. It took me two weeks to wash the arrogance out."

They had just returned from the Ashen Expanse, killing some beasts and clearing more of the expanse despite knowing that it wouldn’t matter.

Argon, hearing Crisaius, blinked slowly. His only response was, "Mm."

Crisaius slammed the mug down on the side table. "You know, just once I’d like a full sentence out of you. Maybe even a second facial expression. Maybe. Let me dream, you fridge with legs."

Argon raised a single brow.

That counted as a reaction. In his world, it was practically a monologue.

If others saw him doing that, they would be surprised since this was him being lax, and only Crisaius, who was his master and his grandfather, could see this side of him.

Suddenly—

Knock. Knock. Knock.

The doors to the chamber creaked open.

Randolf Vo Vaise entered, wearing a butler uniform.

Now, Randolf wasn’t just any butler.

He was the butler. A man who once punched a wild beast unconscious because it stepped on the Vaise lawn. He walked like the wind owed him money and dressed like he invented suits.

But right now? The man looked... shaken.

All because he had a letter with news about Argon’s youngest son—the one Argon was most interested in right now.

"Lord Argon. Lord Crisaius," Randolf said, his voice perfectly measured, but his hand trembled slightly as he held out a sealed letter. "This... just arrived from the Red Magic Tower."

Argon didn’t move. He flicked his fingers. The letter flew into his hand as if the air itself obeyed him.

He broke the seal.

Crisaius leaned over to peek like a nosy grandma reading her neighbor’s divorce papers.

Then—silence.

The kind of silence that makes thunder nervous.

Argon’s eyes flicked across the page. His brows furrowed, just slightly—his equivalent of screaming.

Crisaius, reading over his shoulder, suddenly went stiff.

"...Wait. Wait, wait, wait." Crisaius held up a hand and snatched the letter as it owed him rent. He scanned it again, his eyes widening with each line. "Demons? Possessed humans? Soul-crystal body eggs? Is that a typo?! That’s not even a magic term!"

"It is now," Argon muttered.

Crisaius slammed the letter down. "WHAT KIND OF SIDE QUEST DID MY DISCIPLE WALK INTO?! I MERELY LEFT HIM FOR A DAY OR TWO!"

Argon remained silent, processing.

Crisaius stood up dramatically, chair flying back, arms wide like a cult leader mid-sermon. "HE WAS SUPPOSED TO VISIT A TOWER, NOT UNCOVER A DEATH CULT! THIS IS WHY I NEVER GO ON VACATION."

Randolf took a wise step back.

"He’s not dead," Argon said quietly, his words final.

Crisaius turned. "Of course, he’s not dead. He’s my disciple. But look at this! They turned people into pain batteries! And Raven figured it out! And led an operation! That kid can’t even sit through a whole history lecture without inventing a reason to kick someone."

Argon tapped a finger on the paper. "There’s more."

Crisaius grabbed the letter again, his eyes narrowing. "Meeting in the Royal Court... full report pending... one crystal was kept?!"

There was a pause.

Crisaius blinked.

"...He agreed to that? My Raven? The one who once burned a cursed painting because he said it looked ’smug’? That Raven?"

"Seems like Vernix convinced him," Argon said, standing now.

The room shifted slightly, reacting to his mana. The walls, enchanted with layered seals, rippled like water resisting a tide.

"He made a choice," Argon added. "He’s learning. The world is changing. He’s... adjusting."

Crisaius stared at him, face scrunched in mock horror.

"You sound proud."

Argon said nothing.

Crisaius gasped. "That was your second expression today. That’s more emotion than when your wife left you."

"She didn’t leave," Argon said blandly. "She was killed."

"Exactly!" Crisaius pointed. "You didn’t even flinch then! And now you’re proud of your son! Who are you, and what did you do with the emotionally stunted block of ice I knew?!"

Argon rolled his eyes—subtly, barely—but Crisaius caught it.

"Oh-ho! That’s it. I’m writing this down. This is going in my diary. Entry number three. Today: Argon smiled on the inside."

Randolf coughed politely.

"Shall I prepare a response for the royal meeting, my lords?"

Argon nodded once.

Crisaius was already pacing. "I need to prepare. If demons are popping out of people like cursed jack-in-the-boxes, then the kingdom needs a new defense strategy. I’ll need chalk. Rare incense. Explosive frogs. Possibly a live gnome."

Argon turned to him. "We’re attending the meeting together."

Crisaius blinked. "Wait, you’re going in person?"

Argon’s aura flared slightly. "It concerns everyone, even the Vaise family."

Crisaius smiled slowly. "There it is. Full sentence. Actual motivation. And here I thought you were just an angry furniture set."

"I still am," Argon said, already walking out.

Crisaius followed, grinning like a madman. "Then let’s go save the world, disciple. Again. But this time, let’s not kill anyone in the royal court."

"...That was your fault."

"You say that every time!"

Behind them, Randolf exhaled, staring at the now-empty room.

"...They’re going to kill someone."

And with that, the true storm began to gather—two legends, one report, and the slow unraveling of an empire’s darkest secret. freeweɓnovel~cѳm

At its center stood Raven.

And the crystal that should never have been left behind.

.....................................

Meanwhile, Raven remained oblivious to all this.

He was about to reach the capital city along with his group.

The group was as rowdy as ever.

They were in a carriage provided by the magic tower, pulled by one of the fastest beasts.

It cut through the landscape as if it belonged there—because, of course, it did.

Inside the carriage, however, was less "noble procession" and more "controlled disaster."

"Okay, but if a cursed dagger says it wants to be picked up, that’s obviously a trap," Jessy said, rubbing her temples.

Rufus shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "I didn’t hear it say anything! It just...vibrated enthusiastically."

Jessy glared. "Because it wanted your blood, genius."

They were talking about a dagger Rufus had picked up from the underground demon farm they had burned down.

Jake, silent in the corner, hearing all this, let out a small breath.

He wasn’t sleeping. He was never sleeping. He was just observing like a cat made of granite and judgment.

"I thought it was cute," Siris said, swinging her legs. "It sparkled. Sparkles are friendly."

Jessy looked at her like she was debating if a concussion spell would be a mercy.

Meanwhile, Lia—still disguised as Prince Lio—sat very properly beside Raven. Very properly. Which, in her case, meant practically on top of him.

"Sir Raven," she said, pulling out a small box, "I prepared honey cakes. In case courtly affairs leave a bad taste."

She was back to her footrest form, doing what she was supposed to do.

She had to maintain this image to avoid letting others know that she was a girl and not a boy.

"You baked?" Rufus asked warily.

"I bake, I embroider, I assassinate—many talents," Lia replied with a demure smile. "Would you like a napkin with your initials, Sir Raven? I sewed one just in case your glory made someone cry again."

Rufus blinked. "You? Assassinating someone? Did you forget you are a mere circle-two mage?"

His words made Lia bite her lips, but she didn’t break her expression.

"Hah... If both of you weren’t boys, I would’ve started thinking that you were one of those kinky couples." Jessy sighed, and those words got a reaction out of Lia.

Her face got covered in a rosy blush, and that was noticed by Jessy, making her expression freeze.

’Is Lio...?’ Looking at a guy blushing at being called the lover of another guy, Jessy couldn’t help but come to a ridiculous conclusion.

Siris, on the other hand, clapped her hands. "I had a dream Raven became the god of squirrels. He had a staff made of acorns and everything!"

"Why... squirrels?" Rufus asked, already regretting it.

"Why not squirrels?" Siris replied, deadly serious.

That was when Alex poked his head through the upper hatch of the carriage like an excited dog.

"GUYS," he yelled, eyes wide. "There’s a bird following us."

Jessy squinted. "...And?"

"It might be a spy! Or a reincarnated sky god! I once read a scroll about a bird that was a general in a past life—Nibbles confirmed it."

From Raven’s shoulder, Nibbles, the fuzzy, battle-hardened squirrel with demon-detecting instincts and a thousand-yard stare, stared into space like a veteran trying to forget what he saw in the forest.

"He hasn’t blinked in ten minutes," Rufus whispered.

Alex gasped. "That’s how you know he’s concentrating! Nibbles, if that bird moves funny, give me the sign!"

Nibbles slowly turned toward Alex, his eyes locked on the dumb guy, and he raised one middle claw.

Jake choked on air.

"That’s the signal!" Alex shouted. "THE ENEMY HAS TAKEN FLIGHT FORM! SOUND THE SQUIRREL ALARM!"

"There is no squirrel alarm," Jessy snapped.

Alex pulled a wooden whistle from his sleeve and blew into it.

Nothing happened.

Then a second later—

A tiny squirrel bugle sounded from outside the carriage, followed by the faint rustle of elite clawed feet taking formation in the nearby trees.

Jessy stared. "Are we being escorted by squirrel squads again?"

"We never weren’t," Raven muttered without looking up.

Lia beamed, masking her previous expression. "They’re adorable! Sir Raven leads not only men but beasts! A true sovereign!"

Her buttering was getting over the top, but no one said anything, as they were used to strange people by now.

Meanwhile, Raven sat by the window, face unreadable, gaze fixed far beyond the jokes and chaos.

He was busy with other thoughts because, unlike others, he knew what they had just been through and how close they were to meeting their end.

Updat𝒆d fr𝒐m freew𝒆bnov𝒆l.c(o)m