Dragon Monarch System Chapter 1036:- The Name That Meant Death

Barely a few minutes had passed since the Harrington Faction—also called the Ashen Covenant Faction,—stepped into the Hall. The key detail about this group was its makeup of 10 Dukes.

Through countless generations, the Harrington bloodline had built strong ties with these families. For over 100,000 years in history, these ten noble houses stayed loyal to the Ashen Covenant Faction, always headed by the Duke of Harrington House right from the start. Malakor’s nephew served as the current Duke of the Harrington household, but the full faction still fell under Harrington’s command and dominance. The ten noble houses were bound so tightly that Malakor’s rulings drew zero resentment, not even deep inside their hearts. Their connection was utterly unbreakable. The Celestial Dragon Empire shattering into fragments seemed more plausible than the Ashen Covenant Faction splitting apart.

At heart, each household bore traces of the Harrington family’s blood. And the Harrington essence burned with fierce protectiveness for kin. That core trait forged their unbreakable loyalty.

"How dare they?"

Malakor Harrington still harbored the raging fury from the day his grandson got exiled from the Main Continent. That wrath had never dimmed, even after so many years. It smoldered within him like an unquenchable blaze. Back then, his fury at the Emperor—and even his own daughter—nearly drove him to assault the Palace and deliver harsh justice. He had utterly lost his grip in that instant.

Over a thousand of his loyal men had to intervene to halt him. His children, relatives, followers, and even servants blocked his path, using every ounce of strength to restrain him. It went beyond mere words or begs to prevent total mayhem.

They needed raw force, desperately gripping his frame. Had they slipped...

Harrington’s madness ran so deep he’d charge the Imperial Palace solo against the Celestial Dragon Empire’s full army without a second thought. Fear meant nothing; he possessed a true Dragon’s fearless spirit.

He’d transform the Imperial Palace into a warzone.

How dare the Emperor exile his one and only beloved grandson?

That furious cry echoed from Harrington all day, like a beast in agony.

This wasn’t mere words. That one phrase devoured his soul. A single idea like that drove him to madness.

With his wife gone, Harrington poured everything into raising his daughter. He never imagined his own flesh and blood could forsake her child. On that day, he branded his daughter a total shame to the Harrington lineage.

From then on, ties between the Royal Family and Harrington House snapped forever. His rage at his own kin kept him from visiting her even once.

He knew if he went, his fury would erupt uncontrollably, forcing his hand against his cherished daughter.

For his grandson’s sake, he’d wage war on the Emperor right now without hesitation. Win or lose didn’t matter. Enemy numbers or final results held no weight.

He’d fight regardless.

He’d prefer dying on the battlefield, ripping foes apart with bare hands, over silently watching scum threaten his grandson—scum too cowardly to meet his gaze.

Even if the Emperor himself menaced to slay his grandson, Malakor Harrington wouldn’t pause a heartbeat. He’d end the Emperor. Not with quick mercy, but a brutal, nightmarish demise that’d terrify the world’s hardiest warriors.

Fuck the Empire.

What good was an empire when his blood faced peril? Throne, power, laws—who gave a damn when the Harrington bloodline’s youngest faced threats? Aditya wasn’t just anybody; he was their lineage’s newest bearer, its future hope.

Aditya carried the Harrington blood as the youngest. Not his direct heir... but to Harrington, such details never mattered.

From day one, Harrington cherished Aditya as his own flesh and blood. No barriers existed between them. His affection for Aditya held zero reservations. His gaze toward him showed no distinction.

To him, Aditya transcended family membership. He was his dearest, most treasured grandson.

And nothing in this world could strip that away.

The elder continued to harbor the blazing fury from bygone eras, a fire that had only intensified over the passing years. From the instant he reunited with his grandson, he resolved that no one would ever wrench him away again.

And he would never—never—permit anyone to confront him while threatening his grandson's life.

Not while breath still filled his lungs.

"If Boris were here... I would have demanded an explanation." Harrington held no regard for Boris’s position as Emperor.

His icy glare raked over every person assembled. That stare by itself crushed everyone with immense pressure. The majority of Dukes present belonged to generations after Harrington’s own. Yet they matured listening to wild tales of the outrageous deeds this madman pulled off during his youth and later years. Those Dukes had dreaded Harrington since childhood, and that dread endured long after he stepped back from the spotlight.

How could the younger crop of Dukes feel no terror toward Harrington, seeing their fathers quiver at just the mention of Malakor?

Even Malakor’s name alone started carrying the weight of God of Death thanks to his legacy.

The God of Death.

Death shadowed Malakor’s every step. The instant his name echoed, folks recalled his brutal exploits, his terrifying abilities, and the grim fate awaiting anyone who caught his eye.

For countless people, hearing "Malakor" rang like the summons of death incarnate.

No one in the hall dared meet Malakor’s eyes after his words.

Malakor scanned certain clusters in the crowd and snorted derisively. Though he had retired from active duties, he always stayed informed about every event unfolding across the Empire.

Malakor, trailed by Dukes loyal to his faction, advanced to the Hall’s center where Duke Cassian stood solitary.

Inside the coffin, Malakor beheld Nico William’s body, laid upon a bed of crimson rose petals.

Regret tugged at Malakor over the loss, but consolation felt impossible in his current state. Fury churned so violently within him that an explosion seemed imminent. Instead, he spun around to confront the entire gathering.

Silence hung heavy for several minutes. Gradually, the nobles’ postures began to shift unmistakably.

Nearly every Duke in the Empire had gathered that day. Lesser nobles also occupied the Hall at first. But Malakor and Sophia’s arrival prompted most of them to slip out quietly, realizing they had no place there. Only a handful of lower nobles stayed behind.

In under 10 minutes, Malakor swayed the loyalties of numerous nobles. The Ashen Covenant Faction had opposed Emperor Ren from the outset. Indeed, Aditya’s exile marked the point when the entire faction quietly turned against Aditya’s father.

Today’s war declaration from Harrington simply sealed it officially. Aditya’s return to the Celestial Dragon Empire or not, many believed civil war loomed unavoidable.

As Malakor faced the assembly, several Dukes pressed palms to their chests and inclined their heads slightly—a clear pledge of allegiance to the cause.

A number of Dukes began edging closer to the Ashen Covenant Faction members.

Duke Ferdinand counted among them.

Seeing that, the staunch core of the Thronebound Faction drew together, openly backing the Emperor.

The Night Rider Sect stood with them.

In the end, a vast majority lingered undecided in the center. Their positions revealed ongoing uncertainty over which side to join. Some among them craved neutrality, viewing the conflict as not worth diving into war over. Others deemed the Emperor’s bloc still formidable yet nursed deep hatred for him; they too held the middle ground.

No one proclaimed their alignment like the Ashen Covenant Faction, but their spatial choices spoke volumes.

Right then, a new group swept into the scene. "It seems... we arrived at an interesting time."

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A massive thank you to everyone for the generous support via golden tickets and gifts. Let’s keep the streak alive!!!

Truth be told, as the author, I’ve become a massive fan of Malakor Harrington already.

For readers weary of this funeral arc, it wraps up in just two or three more chapters. The most thrilling and entertaining stretch of this mini-arc is on the verge of unfolding.