The roars filled the air, rolling across Nozar like a living breathing thing, crashing over rooftops, threading through alleyways, and echoing out into the distant lands beyond.

  Lukas felt the emotion behind each cry through the Crown and the bonds it had established to all of the draconic kind. It was as though every wyvern, dragon and dragonborn had lent him their senses all at once. He saw through their eyes, heard and felt what they did. Their determination, their fury and even their fear, it all pulsed through him in flashing fragments, a storm of vision and sensation he could barely keep up with.

  The draconic kind whose bodies were strengthened by the Shard became the first vanguard of freedom. Cages buckled under massive talons. Walls that had stood fortified for years cracked like brittle clay beneath spells that had not been cast for years. Dragons surged upward, wyverns tore sideways through confinement and the dragonborn fought back against those who wished to stop their own liberation.

  All around them…the chains were breaking.

  But what took Lukas' breath away was that this uprising did not stop with the draconic kind. Wyverns leaned their bodies against the cells that held beastkin to break their hinges. Dragonborn shattered human slave collars with their bare hands. Claws and flames were turned not only toward their own freedom but toward the liberation of anyone who had endured the same crushing yoke of slavery.

  This was not about race.

  It was about those who had suffered for far too long.

  Lukas saw human overseers screaming commands they had never imagined would go ignored. Their voices cracked with desperation, slipping into fear as the obedient creatures they’d spent years controlling through the Shard refused even to look their way.

  For years, the draconic kind had been forced to bow, to submit, to quiet the fire in their hearts in order to survive.

  The humans had mistaken that for victory.

  But that fire had never gone out.

  It had only been biding its time and now...?

  It burned brighter than ever before.

  Because this fire was currently roaring for the sake of their freedom.

  Human soldiers surged forward in response to the rebellion. Shields locked together. Spears lowered. Spells launched in hurried arcs. Lukas watched through the eyes of his people as the human mages hurl fire and lightning, fighting with all the discipline drilled into them, yet beneath that discipline he could feel their panic.

  Humanity had forgotten what it meant to stand against the untempered might of Linemall.

  A wyvern’s jaws closed around a shield. A dragon's roar sent soldiers staggering backward. The dragonborn wielded magic in a way that no human mage could compare.

  What a sight to behold.

  Lukas felt another tug, a warning. Not one from any of the draconic kind but from the great Cthulhu lurking in the open waters. The Kraken’s magic, the spell that held the minds of the entire Admiralty under his grip, was weakening. Threads of control began to snap one by one as the marines struggled under the Cthulhu’s competing influence. It would not be long before the marines broke free of the Kraken's control and when that happened, they would do everything to ensure that his people were put back into those chains.

  They needed to hurry.

  The connection pulsed. The roars continued. And the uprising surged forward like a tide that had been held back one lifetime too long.

  Those that had broken free of their chains moved with speed and unity as Lukas urged them to carry on.

  Through the connection he shared with them, he felt the first rush of wind beneath their wings as dozens, then hundreds, then tens of thousands took flight. They did not hesitate, not looking back once, trusting the command that Lukas had given them.

  To take to the skies, head to the seas. And as Lukas had promised, there were already people waiting for their arrival.

  High above the Kingdom of Nozar, the clouds churned as an immense shadow moved within them. Then another. And another.

  The sky itself seemed to split as Jesse Sterling, the Dragon Lord of the Skies descended from the cloudbank with the dragons of House Sterling flanking him in formation.

  The Divinity of the Skies was brought to life then, a surge of controlled airflow, a directional pull guiding every dragon, wyvern, and dragonborn toward safety. Those who faltered were lifted by the winds Jesse commanded. Those who were too weak to fly any longer found themselves cradled by currents so steady and gentle it felt as though the sky itself carried them.

  Jesse’s Crown blazed to life above him, its light refracting across the storm-kissed clouds. Just like Lukas, the Dragon Lord of the Skies established a connection with each and every one of them, guiding them to where they needed to go. With each beat of his wings the winds obeyed him, forming channels that swept the draconic kind into a protective path through the heavens.

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  The dragons of House Sterling, led by Marshall and Samuel Sterling, roared as blasts of human magic arced upward. Their Divinites flared in response, turning the sky into a battlefield of clashing light and elemental force. They threw themselves into defensive maneuvers, intercepting spells aimed at the escaping dragons.Every time a bolt of magic threatened to bring one of their people down, a dragon of House Sterling intercepted it, their magic expanding like radiant shields against the barrage.

  But not all could take to the air.

  Down below, wyverns without wings and those of the draconic kind still too weak or injured to fly sprinted through the streets. Their claws clattered against stone as they poured toward the open coast, the roar of waves growing louder with every step.

  Waiting for them there was the Merchant Guild’s fleet.

  Rows upon rows of ships filled the shoreline, their sails marked with sigils that had once represented commercial neutrality but now served as banners of defiance.

  The Guild that hailed from Ilagron Village had risen far beyond what it once was. Its immense wealth and influence had turned it into one of the greatest economic forces in all of Hiraeth. And now that force had been mobilized for Lukas’ people.

  At the head of that fleet stood Katrina Drakos and Rosalia Elarion. They were ready for what was to come, to protect those and bring them to safety. Behind them stood Selene of Dawn, Lukas’ mother, and Lady Kaitlyn Drakos. Their combined presence alone seemed to steady the chaos. Upon every ship, allies from Easthaven and dragonborn from Linemall awaited, arms outstretched to pull the exhausted draconic kind aboard, welcoming them to the life of freedom that awaited them.

  The King of Dragons watched all of it unfold from where he stood.

  The skies darkened beneath countless wings and the ground beneath shuddered with the weight of this moment. Lukas felt every heartbeat, every cry and every spark of hope igniting through these bonds.

  Pride swelled within him, overwhelming in its intensity.

  He realized then that he was watching the very fulfillment of his promise. He had sworn his people would be freed. And now, before his very eyes, that oath was being kept.

  It was a moment the King of the Dragons knew he would carry with him for the rest of his days.

  But even then, Lukas knew that he could not revel in this moment forever. They were fighting for their freedom and taking it back from those who wished to reign supreme over it, those very same people would not allow that freedom to be freely given.

  The draconic kind were creatures blessed by mana, giving them strength—both physical and magical—over humanity.

  Yet the Admiralty of Nozar had never relied on brute strength. They compensated with numbers, discipline, and strategic tenacity that had been ingrained into them for generations. The strength of Linemall could carve through armies but the Admiralty could drown them in relentless waves of infantry and precision.

  That same Admiralty was beginning to wake up.

  "Lukas…" The Kraken grunted, his voice rumbling in his mind.

  The Cthulhu's influence, stretched thin across countless marines and officers, had finally begun to fracture. Those with the strongest of wills were beginning to break out of it, fighting off the haze like swimmers clawing toward the surface of deep water. They were beginning to regain their senses like lights flickering back on in a darkened city.

  Lukas watched from where he stood as naval commanders straightened, blinking hard as the fog of enchantment burned away.

  Their faces tightened the moment clarity returned.

  They saw chaos, saw dragons rising and escape unfolding all around Nozar and they understood, with frightening speed, exactly what it meant.

  Orders snapped through the ranks, crisp and immediate. Those officers wasted no breath on hesitation. Lukas' eyes darted along the walls separating the Inner Cities from the rest of Nozar, watching as the marines began to shake off the Kraken’s control in rapid succession. One by one, then dozens at a time, then hundreds and then thousands—all returning to their senses and all of them drawing or reaching for their weapons.

  It was almost terrifying to witness firsthand.

  The Admiralty moved like a single organism, its ranks flowing into position with ruthless efficiency, their intention unmistakable. They would put an end to this rebellion as quickly as it began. They would show the world the might of Hiraeth’s strongest military force. But before the marines could mobilize, before the Admiralty could unleash their full strength upon the streets of Nozar, they stopped dead in their tracks.

  It began just as unseen pressure, pulse of magic so vast and immediate that not a single soul dared to draw breath from their lungs. They looked to the source of that magic, their eyes finding a lone figure standing on a floating platform of solidified water high above the Inner Cities of Nozar, with his hand outstretched towards them.

  It wasn’t an army that stood against the Admiralty of Nozar.

  There was only Lukas Drakos.

  In the heartbeat that followed, the walls that housed the Admiralty of Nozar fell silent. Every single marine stiffened as figures materialized all around them, silhouettes forming out of swirling, glimmering water. They were humanoid in shape, each one held a blade of water sharp enough to cut through flesh and bone as though it were silk. It only took a single second for the strongest military force in Hiraeth to be outnumbered two to one.

  These were not illusions of the mind.

  They were promises.

  Lukas’ Crown pulsed, amplifying his voice until it boomed across the entire structure, reverberating through every stone, every shield or weapon and every beating heart.

  This was his promise.

  "Move. And you die."

  The Admiralty stood frozen, caught between the instinct to fight and the raw realization that they were facing not a man, not a creature, but a King.

  They were facing the King of the Dragons.

  And he would not let a single one of them harm his people.