The Dragon Lord's Aide Wants to Quit [BL] Chapter 402: A Mother’s Judgment

Meanwhile—

While one red dragon battled for survival far longer than anticipated, and two children, blissfully unaware, had already succumbed to sleep after being forced into stillness like statues...

Elsewhere, the pressure was mounting with each passing moment.

Muffled screams, contained only by magical barriers, reverberated off the walls as one dragon teetered on the brink of losing control.

"You dare show your incompetent faces here?!"

The woman positioned at the center did not appear imposing.

In truth, judging solely by her appearance, she seemed almost too delicate for this world. Refined, even.

But the instant her voice cut through the air, everyone present dropped to their knees.

Her sheer, overwhelming presence alone compelled them downward, while her fury pinned them there.

"But mother—"

"Silence!"

The command sliced through the room like a blade.

"You should consider yourselves fortunate that I left your mouths intact after what you have done!"

The dragons sprawled on the floor flinched.

"It has been years," she continued with icy detachment, "and all you have managed to achieve is becoming an even greater embarrassment."

Her gaze swept across them.

"Not only did you lose your senses and completely permit another to handle the issues you created, but you even had the audacity to lie about it?!"

"Why do you believe you are worthy of continued existence?"

"Mother! Are you not being excessive?! H-how was I supposed to know Chancellor Malrik would turn out that way when even you did not—!"

"SHUT UP!"

The sheer force of it vibrated through the very air.

"Do not even consider addressing me as 'mother'," she snapped, her tone cutting. "Not when you have done nothing but bring shame upon me!"

The dragon, now branded as disgraceful, lowered his head, his fists clenched tightly.

"All these years, and you have learned nothing. Even now, instead of rectifying your own blunders, you come weeping and attribute blame to everyone else?!"

The sturdy walls seemed to groan under the intensity of her rage.

"Had you not been inferior to Orryn, then none of this would have transpired in the first place!"

Lady Seraphyne, the matriarch of the red dragon clan, was incandescent with fury.

Her long-cherished ambition to depose the Dravaryns and elevate her clan to supreme power seemed secondary now. The moment she recognized her firstborn son as nothing more than a pure-blooded disappointment, she found herself relegated to making only the most minimal, shame-driven moves.

Perhaps it would have been far better had she simply adopted the branch dragon Orryn instead of allowing this living liability to continue drawing breath.

She strove to rein in her anger, but it proved a formidable task when confronted by the sight of her foolish son cowering, his incompetence laid bare.

The clan head observed the dragons trembling under the onslaught of her scathing words.

As anticipated, the fool was still grinding his teeth, jaw clenched in impotent rage. Lady Seraphyne wouldn't have been surprised in the least if, within his limited comprehension, he was still casting blame on everyone but himself.

And her assumption was not far from the mark. After all, even as a hatchling, he had long since held Orryn responsible for every misfortune that befell him.

However, he lacked the time to foist responsibility entirely onto that usurping wretch. The current predicament was dire, and without his mother's intervention, there was a tangible risk of him being directly implicated in the affair.

But as the legitimate heir to the red dragon clan, he could not possibly fall by the hands of the Dragon Lord. Thus, despite the blow to his pride, seeking his mother's aid was his only recourse.

He could only lower himself further.

"Mo— No... My Lady, I implore you!"

His voice trembled.

"Based on our intelligence, one of the Chancellor's subordinates managed to escape!"

He swallowed hard, the memory of Chancellor Malrik's fate chillingly present.

"We attempted to track him, but it appears the Dragon Lord intercepted him first! If... if he speaks, then I... our entire clan—"

He stammered, consumed by fear, his head striking the floor repeatedly in a desperate plea.

"Please! For the sake of our honor—"

But his supplication was cut short.

The ground beneath him fractured.

He was sent hurtling backward as the floorboards splintered apart.

"ACK!"

"Out."

Her voice dropped to a chilling low.

Dangerously so.

"All of you. OUT!"

Not a soul hesitated. Not even her own son.

They scrambled to depart, fleeing in sheer terror.

Lady Seraphyne remained seated, her demeanor radiating simmering rage. Then, with a subtle gesture, she summoned a presence.

A figure materialized beside her. Silent and deferential, clearly comprehending the necessary actions to diffuse the volatile situation.

"You summoned me, My Lady."

"Locate that fugitive. Eliminate him before he has the chance to utter a single word."

She delivered the command without a flicker of hesitation.

"Knowing Malrik, he would have undoubtedly implemented contingency measures."

She continued, her gaze unfocused, as if contemplating a grave decision.

"So, even if that fool claims the 'vermin' has been secured by the MBE, it's plausible he's too incapacitated to be of immediate use..."

Lady Seraphyne paused momentarily, as if wrestling with a difficult choice.

"Then proceed with announcing the third son as my legitimate heir. We must divest ourselves of that imbecile before it is irrevocably too late."

"Understood, My Lady."

The servant bowed deeply before retreating and vanishing from sight.

Staring out towards the mountain that ought to have been peaceful, Lady Seraphyne found herself lost in deep contemplation.

So what if Malrik’s people had been discovered? Did that not still highlight the issue of their tardiness in doing so?

With leadership as incompetent as theirs, how could they possibly ensure a prosperous future for all dragons?

__

Oh, if only they hadn't been so quick to assume the attendant had been abducted.

Then again, even Riley and Kael would have preferred capturing Tavos directly over resorting to trickery.

But alas, the man was deceased.

Regarding the red dragons, the dilemma was rather straightforward.

Unfortunately for them, those individuals likely possessed a minimal understanding of forbidden sigils.

Consequently, coupled with the fatalities occurring at the Nest, they probably had no definitive means of discerning who was truly deceased or alive.

This ambiguity served Riley's advantage.

It was especially true since the Nest had already been secured before the other dragons could conduct their own investigation. Not that they would have exerted much effort; the majority of them harbored no concern for anyone beyond their own interests.

Then, the matter of authority presented itself.

The Nest, and by extension its attendants, did not fall under the MBE’s purview. Instead, they were accountable to the dragon lord.

This generally implied Kael possessed the prerogative to eliminate them at his whim, much like anyone whose existence he found displeasing. While there would be inevitable dissent from hypocritically moralistic dragons, in the end, their lives would still be extinguished.

Just like that.

It was a power that inspired unease.

Riley felt a profound sense of relief that Kael was the one wielding it.

His mate was certainly not a saint.

However, he was not the sort to exploit his authority merely to maintain it; Kael would simply find such actions too tiresome.

Imagine if he had been someone like those Elders, incapable of resisting the urge to send their subordinates to secure personal gains.

This thought led Riley to ponder how many of them had engaged with Malrik, and how many were aware that instead of pursuing an attendant, their focus should have been on locating his meticulously organized documents.

Nevertheless, even Riley and Kael had to concede a point.

They still had no clue as to Tavos's whereabouts.

Attempts to retrace his final movements had yielded nothing.

No discernible trail.

No observable signs.

Yet, unbeknownst to them, this lack of success was not truly their failing.

For who could have possibly anticipated an abduction occurring at that precise moment?

Absolutely no one.

Not even those who executed the act themselves.

Because even they had not foreseen the opportune moment to seize someone—someone vital to their own strategy.