Gasps and screams began echoing through the ballroom as the nobleman’s body convulsed, a choked gasp tearing from his throat.
He collapsed, muscles seizing violently, his veins darkening beneath his skin until they turned black, crawling like ink through his flesh.
"Somebody help him!" a woman shrieked.
But before anyone could move, the nobleman’s body began to swell. The seams of his fine attire split apart, his bones shifting beneath the strain of something unnatural.
His eyes flew open, now a burning crimson, and the veins of shadow stood out across his body.
He wasn’t alone.
All around the hall, others began to fall.
Some screamed as their limbs twisted grotesquely, their elegant clothes tearing apart to reveal skin marred by dark patterns like cracks in porcelain.
Others clutched their throats, choking on their own voices, eyes wide with horror as transformation overtook them.
And yet, none of them lost their minds.
They were awake. Fully conscious.
Noah could see it in their eyes. The terror, the confusion, the dawning horror as they realized what they’d become.
"Father!" Princess Ines gasped, her voice trembling as she turned to the raised platform where King Cillian stood.
The King had dropped his goblet too. His gloved hand trembled as veins darkened beneath his skin, his golden eyes flashing crimson for a heartbeat before he steadied himself.
Beside him, the First Premier Thomas Ramsay stumbled, clutching his chest as his aura warped violently.
Then, the King’s voice boomed, powerful even in the midst of chaos.
"Lock down the palace!" Cillian’s voice echoed with fury and authority. "No one leaves! Not until we find the source of this corruption!"
Guards immediately sprang into action, their armor clattering as they sealed the doors. Some fanned out to pursue nobles who had fled into the corridors, while others surrounded the King and the affected guests.
The ballroom descended into madness with nobles shrieking and magic flaring wildly as panicked mages summoned protective spells.
Flames crackled, water surged, and wind howled, all of it blending into a cacophony of light and noise.
And in the middle of it all, Noah stood frozen.
His pupils narrowed to slits.
The aura in the ballroom, that crawling, oily mana, it was the same essence that had once spilled from Othello’s potions, the same power he’d seen devour Bruno and Marlon.
But this time, it was different. This wasn’t madness, this was resonance. Controlled, stable, and deliberate resonance.
He could feel it humming through the room, binding the victims to the abyss without breaking their minds.
It was the perfect imitation of the abyss’s will.
And deep within him, something stirred.
His Dark Dragon blood, the part of him that was no longer human, responded instinctively. It recognized the corruption, the resonance bleeding into the world.
He understood what was happening.
The abyssal energy wasn’t just turning people into hybrids. It was tuning the world itself.
The more abyssal energy infused the environment, the more the world began to resonate with the abyss, like a note struck in harmony.
And once that resonance reached its peak, the barrier between worlds would weaken.
It would become a world where beings like Qaryt, the eldritch horror that had almost entered the world in the monolith, could simply walk in.
This wasn’t an accident.
This was preparation.
A slow poisoning of reality itself.
And his dragon blood screamed at him to stop it.
No. To purge it.
To cleanse the corruption before it spreads.
He felt his mana roil under his skin, power surging like fire through his veins. His instincts roared. The ancient, predatory will of the Dark Dragons that had once ruled the abyss itself.
He could burn them all. Devour the corruption. Restore balance.
His fingers twitched, and shadows began to ripple faintly under his feet.
Then, a soft hand gripped his arm.
"Noah..."
He froze.
Ines was standing beside him, her face pale, her wide eyes darting around the ballroom in horror.
The fear in her expression, it wasn’t for him, or even for herself. It was for everyone. For her people.
She had no idea what he’d been about to do.
Noah exhaled slowly, pulling his power back under control. The shadows retreated, melting away like smoke.
He couldn’t do this here. Not where everybody would know. Not where they’d see. Not where they might band together to face him.
The Princess’ grip on his arm tightened, grounding him to the present. "What’s happening?" she whispered.
Before Noah could answer, the air shook.
A sound rolled through the palace, deep, thunderous, and alive.
A roar.
Not human. Not anything of this world.
The chandeliers trembled. The windows rattled. Goblets crashed to the floor. Screams erupted as the entire palace quaked.
Noah’s eyes widened. That sound...
That wasn’t from within the palace.
That was above.
[][][][][]
High on the palace rooftop, Lord Vine stood, his cloak billowing in the rising wind.
The moment he felt the roar, his expression morphed into something like awe.
"It’s here," he whispered. "So soon... magnificent."
From his perch, he could see everything. The soldiers panicking along the outer walls, and the flickering lights of their spells as they tried to stop the dragon.
But none of it mattered now.
His masterpiece was arriving.
He stretched his hands, feeling the hundreds of thralls he commanded, puppets scattered across the palace, and began directing them.
They moved as one, guarding key corridors and sealing doors, ensuring no one escaped before the stage was set.
Then, with a single thought, Vine reached into the basement.
He spoke a single word, and the barrel of blood in the basement vanished in a muted flash of light and reappeared beside him on the roof.
Vine looked at the approaching shadow in the sky, the enormous silhouette blotting out the moon.
The dragon.
The very creature he’d been waiting for.
"Come," Vine whispered. "Feast."
The dragon roared again, its eyes glowing red as it descended upon the palace. The wind from its wings shattered several windows.
Vine didn’t move. He merely gestured towards the barrel.
The dark blood within shimmered with unnatural light, tendrils of vapor curling upward.
The dragon landed upon the palace roof with a crash that shook the palace, its claws digging deep into stone. The guards on the ramparts screamed, some firing spells, others frozen in awe and terror.
Vine smiled as the dragon’s gaze found the barrel.
It sniffed once, then breathed in. The dark liquid rippled, turning to vapor, becoming a cloud of abyssal gas that the dragon inhaled greedily.
The energy entered it, the veins glowing from underneath it as power rushed in. Its wounds, cuts from Captain Roderick, sealed immediately, as power that dwarfed the vial of blood it had received rushed into its body.
It had grown stronger. Far stronger.
Lord Vine didn’t wait to see what would happen next. It had already set the stage. And so, it teleported away.
For a brief moment, silence reigned.
Then, the dragon threw back its head and roared.
A calamity had awakened.