Chương 368: Drago's Acknowledgement

Silence settled over the room after Ares finished speaking. For several moments, none of the three men offered another word. They remained seated in complete silence, each one lost within their own thoughts as they considered the uncertain future that now waited beyond the walls of Irea. Siegfried was right, they possessed enough power to overcome nearly any threat that emerged.

There were very few beings left in the tower capable of challenging even one of them, and even fewer that could stand against all three together. Yet despite that certainty, none of them wanted the situation to reach that point. For countless centuries, the Goliath of the Reef had silently fulfilled its duty. It was a guardian that required no recognition, no praise, and no acknowledgement from the world above.

Hidden beneath the endless ocean, it ensured that the Deep Dwellers remained sealed away within the crushing darkness of the abyss where they belonged. Its very existence had created a balance that allowed civilizations to flourish without ever knowing how close they truly were to disaster. But if the Goliath had truly disappeared... That balance was gone. The creatures of the abyss would no longer remain confined beneath the waves.

Slowly, they would begin making their way toward the surface and onto the shores of Irea. Perhaps there would only be a single attack each week. Perhaps one every day. Perhaps several occurred before anyone could even understand the scale of what had awakened. None of them knew. The ocean hid too many ancient mysteries, too many forgotten horrors buried beneath its depths, for anyone to predict what would emerge once its greatest guardian was no longer there. For now, there was only one thing they could do.

Prepare. Eventually, Ares released a weary sigh before turning toward Drago. His usually stern expression softened slightly, revealing a rare sincerity that few ever witnessed from the Commander of the Royal Guard.

"I heard you adopted Vale." There was gratitude within his voice.

"... Thank you." He lowered his gaze for a moment.

"He desperately needed a family." A gentle smile appeared on Drago's face as he folded his hands behind his back.

"It wasn't any trouble. I know you care for him as well." His smile grew slightly.

"So you are always welcome to visit him." For a brief moment, the tension within the room faded. However, Drago's expression soon returned to seriousness as he looked between the two men.

"Though I believe we should move on to our final matter." Siegfried leaned back in his chair with an exaggerated scoff, already expecting another unpleasant subject.

"And what would that be?" Drago remained silent for several moments, carefully choosing his words before finally answering.

"Wolf." Ares raised an eyebrow, while Siegfried simply rolled his eyes as though he had grown tired of hearing it centuries ago.

"I'm already doing everything within my political authority to keep that bastard under control." He shrugged.

"What more do you want from me?" Ares nodded in agreement.

"I have to side with Siegfried on this. We have already exhausted nearly every option available to us." He leaned back slightly.

"Wolf is still the king. He possesses too much political influence and too much support among certain factions. Even if the two of us combined our authority, placing a leash around him would prove nearly impossible."

"I'm not asking you to chain the dog." A faint smile appeared at the corner of Drago's lips.

"I merely intend to place a bone before him that he cannot resist." Both men frowned.

"Oh?" Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit. Ares tilted his head.

"And how exactly do you intend to accomplish that?" Drago allowed the silence to remain for several seconds, letting their curiosity build before finally responding.

"We stop the trafficking." The room immediately fell quiet. Siegfried stared at him.

"... Wouldn't that only make him even angrier?" He scratched the back of his head.

"Don't misunderstand me. I'm completely in favor of ending it. But that sounds less like distracting him and more like deliberately provoking him." Drago nodded.

"Initially... yes."

"He will be furious." His tone remained calm and confident.

"But there will be very little he can actually do. If he openly retaliates against such a decision, he risks creating a rebellion that even he would struggle to suppress." Drago slowly began pacing through the room.

"So instead, he will redirect his frustration. he will hunt monsters beyond Irea's borders." His gaze moved toward the city visible through the window.

"The creatures outside the walls will gradually diminish. Our people will become safer, and Wolf will gain an outlet that satisfies his desires without putting civilians at risk." He folded his arms.

"Until now, this idea has remained nothing more than a theory." A quiet breath escaped him.

"But knowing Wolf's... unique personality... I believe it is finally worth testing." Silence returned once again. The three Pillars of Irea remained motionless, each considering the consequences of the decision they had just made. Nearly half a minute passed before Ares finally gave his answer.

"I agree." His voice was firm.

"The safety of our people comes before everything else." Siegfried simply shrugged.

"I've been wanting to screw that bastard over for centuries." A chuckle escaped Drago.

"Then it's settled." He rose from his chair.

"From this day forward, we end the trafficking of civilians. No matter the cost." The decision had been made. Drago offered both men a respectful nod.

"I'm glad we could come to an understanding." He turned toward the door.

"Please excuse me. Our business here has concluded." He began walking away as Siegfried stretched lazily behind him, releasing a loud yawn before standing to follow. Unlike the two of them, however, Ares remained seated behind his desk, maintaining the disciplined posture expected of the Commander of the Royal Guard even after the discussion had ended. Drago glanced back at him. A faint smile crossed his face. Yet as he reached the doorway, his gaze lingered upon Ares for a moment longer. A quiet sigh escaped him.

Despite the pair of draconic horns adorning the commander's head, Ares possessed no draconic blood whatsoever. His people carried something far stranger than ordinary heritage. They possessed the power to become exactly what they believed themselves to be. A fragile ability. An unstable ability. Yet in the hands of those whose convictions never wavered, it could become something unimaginably powerful. Their strength came from their own perception of themselves. Their faith. Their ego.

The stronger those beliefs became, the stronger they themselves became. It was the reason arrogance and god complexes appeared so often among their race. When one's own convictions could shape reality itself, the line between confidence and divinity became dangerously thin. From what Drago knew, Ares and his sisters were the final survivors of their people. Every other member of their race had long since been exterminated. Ironically...

It had been Ares himself, alongside those very sisters, who ultimately brought about their race's destruction. The hatred they carried toward their own people had reached a point where they were willing to erase everything connected to them. Drago lowered his gaze.

"... Poor bastard." The words escaped quietly before he finally left the tower. Before long, Drago stepped outside the Royal Guard Tower once again. The guards stationed at the entrance immediately straightened upon seeing him. They struck their armored chests with closed fists before lowering their heads respectfully.

"It was an honor to receive you, Sir Drago." Drago simply waved a dismissive hand.

"The honor was mine. Keep up the good work." The guards bowed deeply before returning to their duties. Drago continued into the city's marketplace. Unlike the bustling streets surrounding him, his pace remained slow and relaxed. He wandered between the stalls without urgency, observing the countless goods that merchants proudly displayed. Fresh vegetables. Handcrafted jewelry. For someone who had spent so much of his existence surrounded by war and destruction, these simple sights held a strange beauty.

Something that beings like him rarely experience. Eventually, he stopped before a fruit stand. His eyes moved across rows of polished apples until a cheerful voice pulled him from his thoughts.

"Excuse me, sir?" Drago looked down. Standing before him was a little girl no older than eight years old, wearing an oversized merchant's apron. She looked up at him with bright, innocent eyes, completely untouched by fear. Drago couldn't help but smile.

"Would you like to try one of our apples, sir?" She proudly lifted a brilliant crimson apple toward him with both hands. He carefully accepted it, turning the fruit over in his hand as he admired its glossy surface. Then,"Emily!" A middle-aged woman rushed forward, grabbing the girl's wrist.

"What are you-" She froze. The instant she recognized the man standing before her, all color drained from her face. Without hesitation, she lowered herself into a deep bow.

"P-Please forgive her, Sir Drago. She didn't know who you were." Drago looked at her calmly.

"It doesn't matter." He slowly reached toward the child. The woman stepped between them.

"P-Please! If someone must be punished... punish me, not her." Drago simply sighed. Ignoring her panic, he gently placed a hand atop Emily's head and softly ruffled her hair. Then he reached into his robes. A single gold coin appeared between his fingers. He placed it into the girl's hands.

"Buy yourself a nice toy." The girl's eyes widened in surprise. The woman remained frozen, unable to understand what had just happened. Without another glance, Drago turned and continued through the marketplace. Behind him, whispers quickly spread between the stalls. He heard every single one.

"That's... him?"

"He let her go..."

"I thought..." Drago simply smiled.

'... So they still fear me.' It wasn't surprising. Most people in Irea didn't even know his true name. Few knew him as Drago. Instead, they knew only his title. The Acknowledgement that had become synonymous with disaster itself. No one had ever needed to explain why they feared him. Some instinct buried deep within their souls whispered the truth the moment they laid eyes upon him. Avoid him. Fear him. Do not provoke him. Almost everyone obeyed that instinct. And the few who did not...

They lived just long enough to understand why. Because among all the names history had given him, among all the legends and stories created around his existence... Only one endured through every age. Despair Given Form.