The estate had been on high alert since the arrival of the King, who pulled up on a golden carriage much grander than the Crown Prince’s. Even from the far end of the estate walls, I could hear the marching of metal-clad boots, moving in unison, and the rustling of the imperial guards.

But most of all, I could sense a mana level so powerful that I couldn’t help but be impressed. Not only did it seem that the King ruled with political power but mana-wise too.

It made my inching to see the human king increase in anticipation. Truly, this had been the right call. As far as Hellion’s intelligence went, I had not been informed of such a powerful ruler in the human race. Nor of the prosperous kingdom of Trane itself. Every second here was more information that I would bring back to Hellion.

My eyes scanned along the now quiet atmosphere of the streets that surrounded the estate, separated by strips of land and a small moat. Nothing noteworthy had happened besides the occasional group of humans that had been curious about the increase in guards.

Earlier in the day, groups had stood outside whispering among themselves, covering their mouths to no avail. I could still hear them, their tone-deaf comments and theories about the patrol.

While marching tirelessly without end, I soon found myself living for the gossip talks.

“I wonder if something is going on in the royal estate.” One woman in a working gown had whispered over to her husband, who just nodded in agreement with blank eyes. Well, no shit.

Another group of human boys had been walking down the streets in school uniforms, before noticing the patrols.

“I’m going to be a guard when I’m older!” A young, ginger boy had announced to his taller friends, who proceeded to launch the ball into his face.

“A guard? Please. Didn’t you get chased by a hen the other day and wet your trousers?” Another boy reminded the ginger-haired boy, bending over from laughter.

“Not cool man…it was scary!” The boy whined.

All the other boys had laughed, but they looked around my human age. Maybe fifteen to eighteen years of age. I suppose, most humans around my fake age lived normal lives.

Though, they seemed dumber…

I’ll admit, it took everything not to laugh at that sight. Heightened senses; a blessing or a curse? In this case, it was a blessing.

Still though. Humans were the same, always curious creatures that stopped at the first sight of something outside of their routine. Creatures of habit that were adaptable, yet stupid.

I paused briefly, snickering. Footsteps behind me made me glance over to watch as Eran headed over. He stopped next to me, looking over to where the boys had been, returning back to me.

Hm. Was I in trouble?

I eyed him, sighing, “Sorry, I was stopping briefly to observe the town better.” All I was doing was curing my boredom from hours, of walking back and forth with no action. Nothing interesting, except the gossip that I would overhear from passersby.

“That’s what kids your age normally do… getting an education and all.” He abruptly commented, glancing over to the group of human boys that had walked down the street at this point.

Actually. Humans that were my age would be well dead, nothing more than rotting skeletons. In reality, I was two hundred and six years old. Pretty young for a dragon, but much older than a human - that's for sure.

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“Are you indirectly calling me stupid?” I scoffed, crossing my arms. Where I didn’t exactly know much about the topics that humans valued, I knew my fair share of any knowledge that pertained to magic, fighting, war, and tactics.

That stuff was my bread, butter, and my whole reason for existence. Where I may not understand human customs, at least I knew how to massacre an entire town in one night. If you put the bigger perceptive into view, that’s all that mattered in life, right? Last time I checked, a poet reciting a work of literature still died when smashed under my claw. Really, my logic made perfect sense.

Eran shook his head, waving his hands in defeat, “I didn’t mean it like that, kid. It's just not common for someone your age to be involved in this level of work yet. You may be talented, but I don’t think it’s fair to give up those mundane experiences.”

I’m not sure what he considered these “mundane experiences” to be, but I doubted I was missing out on anything. It seemed like a waste of time. My whole birth revolved around being shaped into a war pawn for my father. I had no luxury over a life that was never my own, to begin with. Much less, did I have time to be lazing about in the academy? Absolutely not.

Still, I humored him. It was a known fact that humans were compassionate, seemingly for no apparent reason. Compassion would never get you far, nor where you wanted to be.

“Whatever you say, chief. Let’s continue to our rounds, shall we?” I didn’t bother to look back or wait for an answer. Instead, I marched ahead, continuing to the next section of the patrols. Eran didn’t refute this and carried on, as well.

With nightfall, the streets slowly lit up, and the crowds decreased. For hours, it was just pacing back and forth, without any need for actions. I peered up at the lights of the estate that peeked from the top of the walls. The night was still young, I suppose.

The King had been here all afternoon, soon staying until early nightfall. This meant that the guards had been patrolling nonstop. Before I knew it, I was at the passing point in the route with Eran again. I walked forward, glancing up at Eran. He nodded, his eyes only sparing away to observe our surroundings briefly. We passed, slowing ever-so-slightly to exchange quick check-ins of the patrol.

“Nothing on my end. How about yours, Newbie?” Eran yawned, eyes tired but focused, already nearly passing me fully.

“All good,” I answered, moving along the route. Like that, both our paces quickened, and we got back to the patrol.

I sighed, doing my best to maintain the posture that Eran had informed me. Shoulders back, marching steps, scanning eyes, and stern expressions; this was what a guard should carry. Supposedly.

I should keep this up… But.

I had no real loyalty to these humans. And all I could think about was the magic stone hanging from my neck, fixed and ready to use to contact my generals. My curiosity had been growing with each passing day.

Did my father mention my return?

Why had I passed out after entering the portal?

Did Dagon and Adbeel return to the territory?

Why hadn’t we heard of Trane before?

These questions have been plaguing my mind lately. And the only person that I could think of asking was Dagon, who had acted as my advisor since I was a hatchling. Eran’s warning replayed in my mind, even though he was out of sight, I could still imagine the sternness of his face from when he briefed me earlier.

“We were direct representations of the Trane Royalty.” He had forewarned before patrols started, which I mean… made sense.

I wore imperial armor and worked on the estate, even if it was my first day.

Except.

I really couldn’t care less if I wasn’t even in view of anyone. There had been no one out at this time nor could I sense any lurking stares.

It was clear. I pulled out the stone that had been tucked, glancing around one last time. Exhaling, I slowly embedded demonic energy into the stone, while never breaking my gait.

The stone flickered once, before glowing a faint purple.

A connection.

“…Hello?” I voiced, holding the stone to my mouth, my voice low enough to not alert Eran, who was patrolling on the other end.

Static silence.

I smacked it with my palm, squinting as I held it up by the string, “Did that weird lady not fix it?” I mumbled under my breath. Wouldn’t surprise me.

More silence.

“Hello?” I voiced again. This time slightly louder.

Instead of silence, a breathy voice rang on the other end, “…Who is this?” They asked, their tone questionably hostile.

I sighed in relief, recognizing the voice as my third in command,” Finally. It took forever to reach you, Dagon.”

A spiked breath came from the other side of the connection. Dagon replied back, seemingly more defensive, “I’ll ask one more time,” He barked, his tone laced with venom, “Who is this? And how did you know my name?”

I stopped in my tracks at the blatant attitude and raised my eyebrow. Was he stupid or plain dumb? Did he dare?

Even away from Hellion, I was still his prince and commander.

“Pardon me?” I asked, exuding my authority over the phone, “How dare you use that tone with me, Dagon.” I warned, drawing the line with this disrespect.

“…Sire?” He asked in disbelief, “…Is that really you?”

Yes. The last time I checked, I was still me.

“Yes. Now, I don’t have time for your pranks, Dagon. I have some matters to discuss with you.” I rolled my eyes, wanting to get along with it before I got caught in the act.

“You’re alive?” Another whisper came from him.

“I’m serious, Dagon. Stop with the jokes.” I tried to move on, to no avail.

Dagon was a serious servant that always kept a level head. Once my father’s advisor, he had been passed down, to raise my father’s new weapon, me. He was molded with every value that the Demon King had close to him.

That’s why I was taken aback at the obvious cries of such a critical person. I went silent when I heard the sorrow-stricken cries, my heart(s) dropping in shock.

“For 100 years, 2 months, 15 days; I kept the other piece of the magic stone, holding onto the hope you were still alive. Sire…what happened to you?”

I froze.

“Dagon. What do you mean…”