The Sinful Young Master

Meanwhile, Jolthar turned his back on Hamen and his loyal beasts; his silver hair caught the night light. He didn't wait to hear what Remin had to say.

Iorina clicked her tongue. In other situations, she would have sliced his head off, but now she couldn't recklessly.

It was because of the two figures beside Jolthar.

Raayani and Yoana were following him. They started walking with him as he turned.

General Remin and Commander Iorina stood apart from the others, their seasoned eyes following Jolthar's retreating form. They had witnessed wars, had battled creatures from beyond the veil, had served the Empire through drought and plenty—but never had they seen anything like what unfolded this day.

"What should we do about him?" Iorina asked, her voice low and tense. Her hand rested on the pommel of her blade, fingers drumming an anxious rhythm against the weathered leather.

Remin's gaze narrowed, calculating. "He isn't a normal young man," he replied, the understatement hanging in the air between them.

"Ignoring the fact that the Raayani warrior walks at his side—and the Dragon Queen herself watches his movements—he possesses strength beyond reckoning."

"Arrogant too, that little runt," Iorina added, her lip curling.

The memory of how easily Jolthar had crushed the Vaemani stone, a stone so powerful that it could make kingdoms crumble—still burned in her mind.

How simply he disposed of the stone, how he withstood the energy outburst of the stone, she watched it clearly. And more than that, he now has the power of the beast king.

Remin then added something that made her turn to him. "And also, he is from that family, the Kaezhlars."

"What?!" The surprise was evident in her eyes.

"Yes. The news is that he had left the clan, or they kicked him out; not sure about that. But he is now staying in the Tekkora barony. And I don't exactly know what he is doing here."

Iorina processed the information, "If the clan really kicked him out, then they lost one heck of a little monster."

"Both clans are now silent after their clash several weeks ago. The emperor himself didn't intervene in their battle, so leave that boy alone. We don't really know if the Kaezhlar let such a potential young man leave the clan so easily.

Iorina's expression turned stiff as she bit her lip; her gaze was focused on Raayani. She didn't want to let her leave just like that, but it seemed like she had no choice for now. She would have killed Jolthar if Remin had intervened or come to the field.

Remin released a weary sigh, his armour creaking as he shifted his weight.

"Enough of this drama."

"We need to wrap up here and report to the Emperor. He awaits our return with news."

Iorina's gaze lingered on Jolthar's distant figure, standing now beside the fallen form of Dagur. Beside him walked Raayani, her obsidian blade catching the sunlight. "I don't trust him," she muttered.

"We will keep an eye on him, for now," Remin promised, his tone leaving no room for doubt. "The Empire has ways of uncovering secrets, even those buried beneath centuries of dust."

Without another word, Iorina called forth her Blackdagun—her massive warhorse-like beast. The creature lowered itself, allowing her to mount with practised ease. With a flick of her wrist, she turned the beast and rode away, dust rising in her wake.

Remin watched her go before turning his attention to Hamen.

The Count still knelt among his loyal beasts, his face a map of conflicting emotions.

Remin approached his weathered face a mask of imperial authority.

"Tell me exactly what happened with the pillar," he commanded, his voice brooking no refusal.

-

Meanwhile, across the field where bthe attle had raged mere hours before, Jolthar and Raayani approached Dagur's lifeless form. The warrior's once-proud face now bore the peaceful mask of death, his mighty frame stilled forever.

Jolthar gazed down at his fallen opponent, respect rather than triumph in his eyes.

Slowly, deliberately, he raised his hand above the body. The air around them seemed to thicken, to shimmer with unseen force.

Raayani watched, her eyes widening as Dagur's massive body rose from the blood-soaked earth. It floated, suspended by invisible hands, a perfect demonstration of telekinesis—a power Jolthar had not revealed until this moment.

The silver-haired swordsman's face showed no strain, no effort, as he manipulated the considerable weight with nothing but his will. Around his outstretched hand, a faint blue aura pulsed, distinct from both the silver lightning of his voidwrath and the emerald energy of his newly acquired beast king powers.

Raayani's lips curved into a knowing smile.

When she had first encountered Jolthar in the desert valley, she had sensed something extraordinary about him—something that transcended the boundaries of ordinary men.

Now, as he revealed yet another facet of his mysterious abilities, she felt vindication rather than surprise.

"I chose well," she murmured, more to herself than to him. Her mind flashed back to their first meeting.

Not far from them stood Yoana, the Dragon Queen, her ancient eyes filled with new emotion as she watched Jolthar's display of power. The anger she had harboured since their first encounter had transformed into something else—something deeper and more complex.

"You have absorbed Na'rajina's essence," she said, her voice carrying across the distance between them. She approached with measured steps, her black gown gleaming like liquid fire in the fading light.

"I didn't think there was anyone capable of killing him, even in his spiritual state. You have done the impossible, young Jolthar."

Raayani turned to Yoana; her brows shot up, puzzled hearing Yoana talk about her former lover. She didn't sound angry; rather, she sounded lively.

"You know, I was his lover once, many centuries ago, before I left him to his madness."

Jolthar lowered Dagur's body gently to the ground, the telekinetic energy dissipating like morning mist. He turned to face Yoana, his expression guarded.

"He attacked me first; I had to protect myself, and he was gone in that process." He couldn't reveal that his goddess killed the beast king and helped him absorb the essence.

"I am not angry at you, boy."

Yoana's lips curved into a smile that held secrets as old as the mountains. "It is only natural that the strong devour the weak—such is the law of power, the unyielding truth of this world."

She moved closer, her eyes—vertical pupils surrounded by amber iris—studying his face. "Na'rajina was consumed by his power. It twisted him, made him something far worse than a beast. Yet I sense the energy moves differently within you."

"You have multiple powers residing in you, yet you seem composed, controlled, and charming too."

Raayani's brows furrowed deeply. "Yoana?"

"Peace, Raayani," Yoana said without looking at her.

"I mean him no harm." Her gaze remained fixed on Jolthar. "I left Na'rajina because his heart grew cold, and his vision narrowed to conquest and domination. The beast king forgot what it meant to protect, to nurture."

"I am bound to the power of the beast king, so I can't help it. Don't mind me."

With deliberate slowness, she reached out, her scaled fingers hovering near Jolthar's chest where the green energy of the beast king's power pulsed beneath his skin.

"But you—you bear his power differently. It mingles with your…distinct powers, creating something new. Something unseen before in all the long ages I have walked this world."

Her eyes softened, the predatory gleam replaced by something gentler. "I loved Na'rajina once when he was still worthy of love. Perhaps now I shall love what he has become through you."

The declaration hung in the air between them, weighted with centuries of history, with power both seen and unseen.

Jolthar remained silent, though he felt troubled. First Raayani, now her dragon, apparently a dragon queen. It was not that he wasn't interested, but he had no time to do romance with them.

Even on this blood-stricken battlefield, soldiers couldn't stop staring at the two beautiful women by his side. They made the men drool and made them fall at their feet.

Raayani's expression shifted, her eyes moving between Jolthar and the Dragon Queen.

The dynamics had changed—the board rearranged.

Across the field, Remin listened intently as Hamen recounted the story of the pillar—how it had stood for centuries, untouched and mysterious, until Jolthar approached it. How the ancient stone had responded to him and dragged him in, how green lightning had erupted from its core, how the beasts had bowed to this newcomer as if recognizing their true king.

"Just what is that kid?" Remin said as he watched Jolthar from afar.

To make the power in the pillar stir to life, Joltar was an unusual young man, he thought.

The wyvern at Hamen's side rumbled low in its throat as if offering an answer neither man could understand.

"Hamen, I can't say anything to you now that you have lost the power that kept you protected. The emperor wouldn't be happy about this, but don't worry; he won't trouble you. So don't be disheartened by what happened today. And don't forget you have Wymar and me, no matter what you did."

Hamen knelt before Remin and offered his gratitude. Hamen didn't expect that Remin would still stand by his side. He had been selfish until now and had done nothing but things that benefitted only him; still, Wymar and Remin stood by his side.

Remin valued his relationship with Hamen and Wymar too; that's why they would stand by his side