Dragon's Awakening: The Duke's Son Is Changing The Plot-Chapter 141 - 140 - The calm before the duel.

The soft hum of a mana lamp—which was basically a lamp with a glowing mana stone inside it—buzzed somewhere in the background, casting a cozy amber glow over the Vaise mansion’s living room.

Raven was on the couch, his legs lazily stretched out on the coffee table, one arm looped around Clara, who was sipping her tea like a Victorian ghost, the other half-pinned under Siris—who was still clinging to him like a possessive octopus in hibernation.

Her faint snores alternated with occasional sleep-mumbling that sounded suspiciously like, "Kill... cute... squirrels..."

But Raven believed that she was saying, "Kill anyone who tries to harm the cute little squirrels..."

Selena, elegantly lounging on his lap, her back pressed in his chest, was calmly munching on a cracker with jam, looking oddly regal despite the crumbs on her face.

Across from them, Alex was poking at a tray of half-burnt treats that looked like a cake but weren’t exactly a cake, while Nibbles, donning a crumb-sized crown (probably stolen from a pastry), stood beside the tray, holding a cocktail stick like a royal scepter.

Jessy and Rufus were arguing over whether the leftover mana dumplings could still be reheated, and Jake silently chewed on a protein bar with the solemnity of a monk achieving enlightenment.

Omni, as always, was on Raven’s hand—tattooed and loud.

"I’m just sayin’, if nobody tells me what time it is soon, I’m gonna start rapping just to wake y’all up," Omni drawled, his voice echoing with exaggerated suffering. "Y’all ever heard ’Bite Me Like A Blade: The Remix’? No? You will."

"No one’s stopping you but yourself," Raven muttered, eyes half-lidded as he popped a grape into Selena’s mouth.

She chewed with a little smile before feeding one back to him.

"Oh please," Lia snapped, arms crossed while pretending she wasn’t sneaking glances at Raven every five seconds. "You’re all way too relaxed. Isn’t there something important today?"

There was a brief, blessed silence.

Then came the knock.

BAM-BAM-BAM!

"Raven Von Vaise!" Shouted a voice from the hallway, irritated and out of breath. "Why in the goddess’s name aren’t you at the stadium?! The duel starts in ten minutes!"

"...what?" Clara blinked, mid-sip, spilling a drop on Raven’s chest.

"...duel?" Selena repeated, eyes slowly widening.

They were all still too sleepy to even recall that it was the duel day.

The reason for this sleepiness was all-night training.

Criasius hadn’t come last night, probably busy with some work, but they were all busy testing their new powers out.

Above all, they also needed to cultivate the Soul Kiln Purification art.

So, they slept quite late in the night.

Siris, still half-asleep, muttered, "I’ll duel the sun... turn it off..."

Then reality hit.

"DUEL!" Raven jolted upright so fast Siris flopped off his arm and into the blanket pile. "CRAP—THE FUCKING DUEL!"

"The what now?!" Jessy stood up so fast she knocked over the snack table, sending mana-dumpling shrapnel flying.

"My jacket!" Rufus screamed, diving toward the bathroom. "I can’t go to the stadium without my lucky armor polish! It has a cinnamon scent!"

Jake didn’t say a word, but he vanished from his chair like a ghost with a schedule.

He was already proficiently using his shadow dive like it was the most normal thing.

Clara stood, still holding her tea, like her soul hadn’t processed the crisis yet. "But I haven’t done my hair—"

"You still look hot, Love. Go!" Raven shoved her gently toward the hallway.

"I’M NOT READY TO BE SEEN YET!" Lia yelped, running toward her room. "DON’T LET THEM KNOW I EXIST!"

Selena looked at Raven with an arched brow as she slowly stood. "I don’t suppose you plan to go to the duel looking like that, right?"

"Yeah," Omni’s tattoo pulsed with a smug twitch. "If I were the judge, I’d make you lose just ’cause of that busted look you got. Ain’t no excuse for steppin’ into battle lookin’ like you just lost to your wardrobe."

"I wasn’t saying that," Selena, rubbing her eyes, frowned. "He doesn’t look any less handsome. I merely want him to look his best before so many people."

"And you look as beautiful as always." Raven leaned in, kissing her forehead. "Now go."

Omni paused, looking at this scene.

"...Whatever, man," Omni muttered, a flicker of defeat in his voice. "Guess it’s true what they say—tryna understand a woman’s mind is like tryna decode ancient runes blindfolded... while on fire."

The chaos, on the other hand, continued.

Nibbles squeaked something from atop Alex’s head, pointing toward the window dramatically.

"He says we can escape through the trees and bypass the crowd!" Alex translated, already climbing the windowsill with a mouthful of toast. "Also, he wants to throw acorns at the people who would be supporting your opponent!"

"Tell him yes to both," Raven barked, yanking on his jacket while still trying to get Siris off his leg. "Someone drag Siris! She’s still trying to nap-fight reality!"

"I am... the darkness..." Siris mumbled from the floor.

Clara picked her up bridal-style with the strength of a goddess and stomped after Raven. "She’ll wake up mid-air if we throw her hard enough."

"I’m not gonna make it," Rufus groaned, tripping over his half-zipped suit.

"You’ll fly there if you have to!" Raven shouted. "You’ve got a jetpack now! Be useful!"

"Right!" Rufus activated his nano-core with a slap to the chest, but he only managed to launch himself into the ceiling. "I REGRET EVERYTHING—"

Jessy grabbed him mid-fall with a metal-thread whip and slung him over her shoulder like a backpack.

"We move now!" Raven ordered, flinging the front door open dramatically. "I don’t want people to think that I ran away from a duel!"

"We just had breakfast," Alex whined, now holding Nibbles like a squirrel bazooka.

"So, we’re about to burn it off! RUN!"

As the Vaise squad launched themselves out the door in various levels of preparedness, weaponry, and existential crisis, Omni could be heard cackling in the wind.

"Now this is what I call an entrance sequence, baby! Let’s go show that punky opponent why you don’t mess with chaos-tuned caffeine maniacs!"

Somewhere behind them, the snack table fell over for the third time.

But none of them cared because they needed to unveil the secret behind whatever was happening behind the scenes.

Raven, who felt suspicious about the delay in the duel, was the one who was most eager to see this duel through.

They, however, weren’t the only ones who were waiting for this duel.

There was someone else—someone Raven knew quite well—who was waiting for this duel. Plotting.

It was Travis Crymont, the blonde demon disguised as a boy, who had almost killed Siris at their last meeting.

Right now, Travis was some distance away from the capital city, in the Cradle of the Molten Veins, before the Five Eyes of the Deep.

The chamber pulsed with heat and rot—alive, yet dead. Five presences loomed, unmoving, watching without eyes, and sitting on elevated seats.

They did not move. They did not breathe. They simply were.

Travis knelt before them—his knees blistering on the searing ground, his head bowed low, hair damp with sweat and fear. Even with his growing power, he was nothing here.

The five did not need to speak for a while.

But then, the blood began to drip.

Lirus, the Blood Prophet, twitched once.

From beneath his soaked blindfold, a red stream trickled to the ground. His voice came not from his mouth, but from inside Travis’s skull—rasping, low, every word a thorn.

"The future threads twist. You were meant to cut them. You tangled them instead."

He raised a hand. It was slick with something still warm. "If I see your blood in my vision again, let it be your last."

A wet sound followed. A shifting of too much skin.

Mala, the Corpse Queen, blinked with eyes that didn’t belong to her. Her stitched face split into a mockery of a smile.

"The dead I wear once served... and failed. They scream when they see you. Should you disappoint again..."

Her smile widened. Flesh ripped.

"...you’ll fit nicely beneath my ribs."

Travis’s breath hitched. A dozen whispers followed. No—they preceded his breath.

Krall, the Whispering Maw, turned. His body—a vortex of mouths—spoke all at once.

"You lie even to yourself."

"You hesitate."

"You want mercy."

"You will not get it."

Each voice was his own. Spoken a second before he could even think of the words.

Then came the crackling.

Veyron, the Bone Architect, tilted his crown of skeletal wings just enough to let the sound of splintering bone echo through the chamber.

"You are a structure unfinished. Weak."

"Deliver us the soul-born. Break the cursed flame. Or be reforged into something useful."

Then came the silence.

The silence of Theon, the Heartless Flame.

His golden mask flared once. Not with fire—but with emptiness.

When Travis looked into it, he saw nothing. Not darkness. Not void. Just... erasure.

A voice didn’t come.

It engraved itself into his soul like a brand.

"You wanted to delay the duel for preparation, and it was done. Now, return without victory, and you will not return at all."

Travis’s lips quivered.

"...I understand."

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