As Zuka and the guard descended onto the palace grounds, the weight of his father's summons bore down heavily on him. The grand hall of the palace loomed ahead, its crystalline walls shimmering in the sunlight, reflecting the magnificence of their kingdom. As Zuka entered, he found his father, Lord Yogan, seated regally on his throne. The room seemed to vibrate with the sheer authority he exuded, a commanding presence that demanded respect.
Yogan's golden eyes locked onto Zuka with a mixture of pride and disappointment. His aura was immense, an unspoken reminder of the power he held. "You've followed too closely in Noir's footsteps, Zuka," Yogan said, his voice even, yet laced with reproach. "You disappoint me."
Zuka straightened, his expression resolute despite the sting of his father's words. "Father, I had urgent matters to attend to. Darkness spreads quickly if left unchecked, and I cannot stand idly by. I carry within me the light of Shiro, the Dragon God of Light."
Yogan's brow furrowed slightly, his gaze piercing. "What business kept you away for so long?"
Zuka hesitated, choosing his words carefully. "A matter of great urgency, one I will explain soon." He softened his tone and continued, "But tell me, how is Mother?"
At the mention of his wife, Yogan's expression softened, if only briefly. "Your mother is in the gardens," he replied. "As radiant as ever, finding solace among her flowers. She graces us with her presence."
"I see," Zuka said, a faint smile tugging at his lips. It was no surprise to him that his mother, ever serene, sought refuge in the beauty of nature.
"But that is not why I summoned you," Yogan continued. Rising from his throne, he walked toward the large glass wall that overlooked their kingdom. The shimmering expanse of Dragonoid lands stretched far and wide, a testament to their dominance and Yogan's rule. He gestured for Zuka to join him. "Our nation, Zuka. Isn't it beautiful?" His voice carried a rare note of nostalgia. "I wanted to share this view with you, as we used to when you were young."
Zuka stepped closer, the grandeur of their kingdom reflected in his eyes. "It is beautiful, Father."
Yogan placed a hand on Zuka's shoulder, the touch heavy with expectation. "I have grown distant, Zuka. In these past years, the weight of the crown has pulled me further from you and your siblings. For that, I apologize."
"There is no need for apologies, Father," Zuka replied earnestly. "I understand the burdens you bear."
Yogan's gaze lingered on the horizon. "It pains me to think that one day, this burden will pass to you. I have always wished for Klaus to take on more of it, but he has his duties among the gods."
Zuka's curiosity was piqued. "Speaking of Klaus, where is he now?"
Yogan turned to face him. "He continues his role as our representative among the gods. However," Yogan added, his tone lighter, "I've heard he has returned, I shall see him soon."
"I'd like to see him too," Zuka said, his voice filled with longing. "It has been too long."
Yogan nodded. "Tell me, Zuka," he said after a moment's pause. "When your time comes, how do you intend to lead this nation?"
Zuka's voice was steady, his words deliberate. "I will follow your example, Father. No one has led better than you."
For a fleeting moment, pride flickered across Yogan's face. "You don't need to follow my path, Zuka," he said. "You've already begun carving your own."
Their conversation was interrupted by the sudden entrance of a guard, his armor clinking as he hurriedly bowed. "My lord," he said, breathless. "An urgent message has arrived from King Herbert of the human kingdom. His messenger awaits your audience."
Yogan's expression shifted, his keen mind already considering the gravity of the situation. "Bring him in," he commanded.
Moments later, a man entered the chamber. His presence was both commanding and deferential, a blend of humility and authority. He was tall, his face youthful yet dignified, his brown hair falling in waves that caught the light. At his side hung a grimoire, bound in leather and adorned with intricate runes. He bowed deeply. "Greetings, Lord Yogan, ruler of the Dragonoids," he said, his voice clear and measured. "I am Licth, the Unworthy, emissary of King Herbert. I come bearing a message of grave importance."
"Speak," Yogan ordered, his tone clipped but attentive.
Licth reached into his cloak and retrieved a sealed letter. Breaking the wax, he began to read aloud. "It is with great humility that I, King Herbert, entreat your aid. A tomb has appeared within the Forest of Kain, a cursed place near our borders. Its aura is dark and oppressive, corrupting everything it touches. From within, creatures have emerged—beings that resemble those from the ancient legends. I have sent my soldiers, but none have returned. Only one survivor made it back, and his final words were: 'The legends are true.'" Licth paused, his gaze lifting to meet Yogan's. "My king begs for your help. He fears that the fate of our world may hang in the balance."
Yogan's expression darkened, the weight of the message sinking in. That King Herbert, a proud and often distant ruler, would send such a desperate plea spoke volumes.
Turning to the guard, Yogan issued his orders. "Gather the Royal Division. Prepare my entourage. We leave at once."
Zuka stepped forward, his voice resolute. "Yes Father, It would be my honor"
The preparations unfolded with military precision, a testament to the Dragonoid kingdom's readiness for any crisis. The Royal Division assembled quickly—a group of twelve elite warriors who stood apart even among their peers. Clad in armor of black and gold, their presence exuded discipline and quiet menace. Each wielded a katana honed to a deadly edge, the sheen of the blades glinting in the torchlight. These warriors were not just combatants; they were masters of speed, stealth, and strategy, the kingdom's hidden blades ready to strike where needed.
The entourage was equally impressive. Their royal transport, a sleek construct imbued with Dragonoid technology and magic, was designed to traverse vast distances in record time. What would have been a grueling twelve-day journey could now be completed in mere hours. Supplies were meticulously packed, and the air buzzed with a sense of urgency.
As Yogan and Zuka prepared to leave, the sound of rushing air signaled Noir's arrival. He descended with effortless grace, landing before them with an amused glint in his eyes. "Where are you headed in such haste, Father?" he asked, his tone light yet curious.
Yogan turned to him, his face as composed as ever. "The humans have requested an audience. A tomb has surfaced in their lands, exuding a dark aura. Zuka and I will investigate."
Noir's lips curled into a faint grin. "And I'm to stay behind and watch over the kingdom? How dull."
Yogan's expression softened slightly, his tone firm yet understanding. "The kingdom must remain secure in our absence."
Before Noir could respond, he added, "Your elder brother Klaus has returned."
At this, Noir's grin widened. "Ah, that changes things. It seems I'm relieved of duty then. Less work for me."
Yogan's stoic demeanor faltered for a moment, a flicker of regret passing through his eyes. "I wish I could stay to greet him," he said quietly. "But extend my regards."
Noir inclined his head, the rare familial moment hanging in the air like an unspoken promise. With a nod to his father and brother, he stepped aside, letting them proceed.
As Yogan and Zuka turned toward their transport, Licth, the human envoy, stepped forward. His presence was calm yet commanding, his earlier humility giving way to a quiet confidence. "My lord," he began, bowing slightly. "If I may, there is no need for your entourage to travel by conventional means. My power is sufficient to expedite your journey. I can take you and your division directly to Solis Imperium."
Yogan's gaze narrowed slightly, curiosity mingling with caution. "You wield such power?"
Licth nodded once, his tone unwavering. "I do, my lord. I am capable of creating portals that bridge great distances. It would be my honor to assist you in this way."
Zuka exchanged a glance with his father, his brows furrowing slightly in thought. The urgency of the mission left little room for skepticism, and if Licth's claim was true, time could be saved—a precious commodity in the face of looming danger.
Yogan studied the human for a moment longer before giving a curt nod. "Very well."
Licth extended a hand, and with a fluid motion, a portal materialized before them. The oval of shimmering blue light pulsed with an otherworldly energy, its surface rippling like water under a gentle breeze. The air around it hummed faintly, a sensation both soothing and electric.
Yogan and Zuka approached the portal, their steps deliberate. Zuka paused for a moment, his gaze lingering on the faint distortion of the world through the portal's surface. "No turning back now," he murmured to himself, his resolve hardening.
The Royal Division followed without hesitation, their disciplined movements a testament to their unwavering loyalty. One by one, they stepped through, disappearing into the glowing expanse.
As Yogan and Zuka entered the portal together, they left behind the familiar grounds of their homeland. They emerged into the unknown, their journey propelled by urgency and purpose. Solis Imperium awaited, its secrets and dangers poised to test their strength, wisdom, and unity. The path ahead was uncertain, but their steps were steady. The fate of their world hung in the balance.