Chapter 4

Even without any blood prophecy, Seraphina's face, plastered with smug triumph, said it all.

She thought she'd been blessed by the divine, carrying an unparalleled golden dragon.

But I knew better than anyone what was really festering in her womb—the very soul of Draken, the ungrateful wretch who, in my past life, had despised my bloodline and commanded his beasts to tear me apart, piece by bloody piece.

In my previous life, I'd been fool enough to see his hatching as a sacred gift. My reward? Betrayal written in shredded flesh and splintered bone.

Now, I was almost curious to see what grotesque abomination would claw its way out under the protection of this poisonous bitch and her worthless lover.

I watched the pair of them practically choking on their own arrogance, chins tilted so high they might as well scrape the sky. Instead of the jealousy they were so desperate to see, I laughed—cold and cutting.

"Since you're both so eager to peek into fate's hand, be my guest. I hope you enjoy what you find."

Meeting her gaze, I let my eyes drift to that flat belly of hers, my tone sharp enough to draw blood.

"Funny though—just a few days ago in the royal council chamber, weren't you two throwing around words like 'lowborn' and 'adulterous' to humiliate me? Seems the 'noble' couple couldn't keep their claws off each other long enough to wait for an actual wedding. Your illegitimate spawn was already gestating before the vows were even spoken. Let's hope when it cracks open, whatever crawls out is worth this pathetic farce you're putting on."

Valerius bristled like a dog whose tail had been stepped on, veins bulging at his temples.

He wanted to lash out—I could see it in the twitch of his jaw—but the moment his eyes caught Kaelen's dark gold dragon pupils, cold and fathomless as an abyss, something ancient and primal froze him in place.

He couldn't figure out why this supposedly "dying old cripple" radiated such terrifying pressure. All he could do was swallow his rage and retreat, dragging Seraphina with him.

Before he left, he forced the words through gritted teeth, practically spitting them at me:

"Aurelia, go ahead—mask your jealousy with that viper's tongue of yours! I'm telling you right now, Seraphina is carrying an incomparable pureblood golden dragon. His name has already been chosen by destiny—Draken!"

"Next month is my five hundredth birthday and our wedding day. I'll make damn sure you're there to watch a true 'Golden Sovereign' descend into this world!"

As they scrambled away, I couldn't suppress the mockery gleaming in my eyes.

Valerius had no idea. Without the nourishment of my ancient stellar dragon blood, Seraphina's body—already hollowed out by black magic—would hatch nothing but an unprecedented freak.

After we returned to the Abyss territories, Kaelen's recovery accelerated at a terrifying pace as our soul bond fully merged.

The foundation of the Abyssal Void Dragon revealed itself completely upon the Eternal Frost. He no longer needed me to deliberately cut myself and offer blood. The natural flow of magic between mates was enough to restore the brilliant luster to his dragon core.

At the same time, my own stellar dragon cultivation surged wildly in response to this profound feedback. Every day, my shoulder blades ached and tore—the telltale sign that wings were about to burst through.

A month flew by, and Valerius and Seraphina's royal wedding came to pass.

Two weeks beforehand, Valerius had been trumpeting his boasts across the entire Dragon Empire.

He proclaimed that on his wedding day—conveniently also his five hundredth birthday—he would shed his gray scales and transform into a golden dragon.

He even claimed the unborn pureblood would manifest divine signs. He demanded every clan lord gather at the Desolation Rift to bear witness.

So when the day came, the royal altar perched above the Desolation Rift was more crowded than the current Dragon King's coronation. Every notable figure in the empire had been summoned to witness this supposed "miracle."

Kaelen's magic had long since returned to its peak. He found the antics of these two clowns rather entertaining, so he personally held me close, concealing our presence in shadow magic, and we watched from the highest vantage point of the altar.

Strange thing was, the moment Valerius stepped onto the awakening platform, the storm-churned valley sky fell dead silent. Not even the lowest-tier wyvern dared circle overhead.

A deathly hush blanketed the venue. Every beast seemed to cower before some unknowable power.

The royal mages shouted excitedly that this was the Hush of Prophecy—a sign preceding the descent of golden bloodline. It inflated Valerius's ego to bursting.

But after the spectacle had dragged on long enough, after every tedious ritual had been performed, after the midday sun had already started its westward descent—

Valerius, standing at the center of the altar, showed not a single trace of radiant transformation. Those cheap gray scales still clung to him, lifeless and dull.

Thousands of nobles sat there for over two hours, drinking in nothing but cold mountain wind. Not a single golden scale in sight.

Finally, the Dragon King lost his patience. He'd been counting on this bastard son to erase the shame of the royal bloodline's decline. Instead, the fool had ground the entire empire's leadership face-first into the dirt.

"You disgraceful embarrassment!" The king's beard trembled with rage, his dragon aura leaking out uncontrolled. "You've had every clan lord sitting here like fools! This is your so-called 'mandate of heaven'?!"

He whipped his cloak around and stormed off.

Valerius panicked completely, scrambling after him like a beaten dog, trying to grab the hem of the king's robes.

"Father! Wait, please! Just a little longer! The stellar calculations can't be wrong—I'm the future Golden Sovereign, the timing is almost—"

The Dragon King backhanded him with a slap so hard it sent him sprawling across the stone, scales bristling with fury.

"Shut your damned mouth! Two entire hours, and how many times have you said 'almost'? I run an empire, boy. I don't have time to watch you wallow in your delusions!"

Once the king left, the high nobles in the stands exchanged uneasy glances and began trickling out in twos and threes. As they passed, their eyes lingered on Valerius with undisguised contempt and mockery.

Valerius collapsed in the center of the altar, his face a mask of devastation and disbelief. He stared at his dull gray claws, muttering to himself like a madman.

"How... how is this possible? According to the timeline from my past life, I was supposed to reforge my bloodline today. Why didn't it work? Why?"

His pitiful brain hadn't gotten anywhere close to an answer when—

Seraphina, who'd been standing beside him, desperately clinging to what was left of her dignity, suddenly let out a bloodcurdling scream.

"AAAHHH—!"

She clutched her grotesquely swollen belly and crumpled onto the altar, her body curling in agony. The beautiful crystalline illusion she'd been using to mask herself shattered like foam.

Then, a nauseating wave of black-red putrid mist began seeping from beneath her dress, corrupting the sacred stone like poison.