Dragon's Awakening: The Duke's Son Is Changing The Plot-Chapter 29 - 28 - Crisaius Von Vaise.

"No, no, wait..." With his palm covering his head, Raven sat up straight. "You are Crisaius Von Vaise???"

His body was healing at a breakneck speed. Maybe the healing factor worked only when one was conscious.

His expression, however, was filled with disbelief.

"You talk as if you know me," the old man, Crisaius, raised a brow, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

"Of course, I know you. Who wouldn't know about a great ancestor like you? You are said to be one of the best patriarchs ever to rule over the family."

Raven's reply, filled with worship, made Crisaius straighten his back, a proud smile marring his face.

"But, um, weren't you supposed to look... uh," Raven added, pausing and thinking of a better word. "...younger?"

He could still recall the latter part of the plot when Crisaius appeared. He was said to look dashing and commanding, not old and... withered.

After all, a physique blessed by dragons—a physique like dragons—made it impossible for the Vaise family members to age like humans.

No matter how old they got, the Vaise family members always looked young.

The oldest they could appear was the late 20s or early 30s.

But looking at Crisaius, Raven would believe if one said he was a beggar.

"Hah!" The Old Man, however, scoffed. "Who wants to look younger?! The older, the better. I look old because I am old!"

'Ah...' Raven finally realized. 'My senses weren't wrong...'

He could tell for sure now that this beggar-like Old Man really had some screws loose in his head.

'I want to leave...' he groaned inwardly, wanting to stay away from this guy.

For a while, silence fell between them as Raven stared at Crisaius, smiling respectfully, waiting for the guy to say something, but the Old Man stared back at him without a word, observing him.

After a while, unable to take it anymore, he said, "It was... an honor to meet you, sir."

He highlighted 'was' as he spoke, implying that he would like to take leave now.

Crisaius, however, beamed as he'd just been complimented on his gardening. "Of course it is. I'm delightful."

Raven didn't know if the Old Man was seriously ignoring his intentions or if he couldn't tell what he meant but swallowed the urge to make a noise.

He settled for smiling—tightly.

"...May I ask," he said slowly, carefully, "why exactly am I here? And what am I supposed to do here?"

The old man leaned back, somehow making the creaky chair sound like a dramatic prop. "Because this is where you will be staying from now on."

Raven blinked.

Then blinked again.

"...Pardon?"

Crisaius gave a firm nod, like he was stating the weather, and went on to answer Raven's second question. "I want you to survive."

There was a long pause.

The silence between them stretched like taffy.

Raven blinked a third time, the weight of those words bouncing uselessly inside his skull like a coin down a well.

"...Wait. Are you—serious?"

Crisaius met his gaze with unblinking clarity. frёewebnoѵel.ƈo๓

And nodded.

Not a single word more.

Just a slow, solemn, nod.

"...Oh no."

Raven sat up—regretting it instantly but powered through with sheer panic.

"No no no no no." He shook his head, his expression filled with panic.

"I can't stay here. I have work! I've got responsibilities! I've got idiots under me who'll blow themselves up if I leave them unsupervised! I've got duties in the family, and a hundred different messes to clean up, and if I'm not there—"

"—They'll still be idiots," Crisaius interrupted with a smile, "but I'll handle everything. Tell me to do it and stay here worry-free."

Raven almost bit his own tongue in frustration. "You... you can't just handle everything! What does that even mean?!"

Crisaius tilted his head like a curious owl. "Means I'll take care of your work, the people, and the messes. You sit tight and heal that gut you turned into Swiss cheese."

Raven stared.

Then, after a moment, he narrowed his eyes. "...Why? What do you even want from me?"

Crisaius's grin widened, the mischievous spark in his eye turning into a whole firework show. "I'm going to make you my disciple."

Raven felt his soul exit the building.

There was silence.

A long, awkward silence.

"...Excuse me?"

"You're excused," Crisaius said pleasantly, still smiling like he was offering Raven a plate of cookies. "I've decided to take you in."

Raven's lips moved for a full five seconds before sound finally emerged. "Shouldn't—shouldn't you ask me first? Or at least tell me? You can't just collect disciples like wild herbs!"

"Why not?" Crisaius shrugged. "You're here. I like you. You're dramatic, look like a kicked puppy when confused, and somehow survived a claw to the gut with enough energy left to whine about useless things. That's disciple material for me."

Raven pinched the bridge of his nose. "That's not how this works..."

"It is now."

"No, it really isn't!"

"I don't care for bows and rituals. If I like someone, I take them in. You'll learn to like it."

Raven opened his mouth to protest again—but shut it with a soft clack, sensing that logic wouldn't win this round.

He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated beyond measure. "I can't stay here. I'm supposed to be heading to the Royal Academy in a few days!"

"Ah, that place. Full of teenage drama, future villains, and half-baked plotlines." Crisaius waved a hand dismissively. "Waste of time."

"Waste—?! That's where half the main characters go!"

"Exactly."

"I need to interact with them!"

"Do you? Or are you just nosy?"

"I have plots to uncover!"

Crisaius stared at him for a moment. Then he patted the boy's shoulder again with that same cursed smile. "You're adorable when you panic."

Raven looked like he was about to scream.

"I have to go!" he tried again, hands flailing in slow motion thanks to the IVs and bandages. "Do you know how many storylines I might miss?! The hidden dungeon event? The academy crisis arc? The side quest that unlocks a divine artifact disguised as a broom?!"

"Sounds exhausting," Crisaius said. "Better to stay here."

Of course, they were talking about different things. Raven was talking about the real plot of the story, but to Crisaius, it was as if he were talking about the schemes and conspiracies.

The main characters Raven spoke of were major figures in Crisaius's mind—people like the prince, other dukes' children, and other big figures like them.

But neither of them cared about what the other meant right now because, at this moment, Raven and Crisaius were thinking of how to leave and keep the other in this place, respectively.

Raven, hearing the Old Man's words, threw his head back against the pillow, groaning in defeat as his arms fell limply to his sides. "I'm in a prison made of nonsense."

Crisaius nodded approvingly. "Welcome to being my disciple."