"This is the last dorm, Your Grace," one of the Knights of House Vorrakyn said. He wore light steel armor of red and white, with his chest decorated with the spread wings of the Dragon.
Four of them followed Drenvar Vorrakyn.
Drenvar is a tall man with a dead face. There was no emotion on his face, not even coldness. His red eyes were sharp like the edge of a blade.
He wore a robe of the Vorrakyn's colors and walked with the casual confidence of someone assured of their powers in their domain. On his neck hung a chain with the head of a Dragon.
"None of the children are impressive," he said dryly.
Someone was following behind him, a female dressed the same way. She shrugged. "I can point to one or two."
She is Skya Vorrakyn, Drenvar's sister and one of the Commanders of the Vorrakyn family.
Drenvar narrowed his eyes. "They lack the ruthlessness that a child of the Dragon should have. Maybe we can salvage one percent of the hundred percent. They also don't have a strong command of the force."
His hand tightened as he spoke, and a faint dark red aura briefly covered him. His shadows twisted before returning to normal. "We need to find another way, Skya. This method isn't working. I'm just creating trash every batch."
"Then it's good you had your children six years ago in this same batch. They're promising, right? Also, the two can already shape the force as if they've been doing it for twenty years. Also, their soul space is already impressive. We might really hit it this time and bring forth an S rank, one of the Dragons!"
The gleam in Drenvar's eyes sharpened. "Indeed. The two children now carry the hope of the family."
Drenvar himself is already bound to an A rank Dragonkin, Wyvern, and that alone made him the strongest in the House. Combined with his Advancement Stage, his strength is undeniable.
The two children that were born to the wife he married are the true children of the House Vorrakyn.
Suddenly, Drenvar stiffened, and seconds later, the others stiffened as well.
Blood.
They could smell blood.
The Knights all surrounded Drenvar, their hands on their weapons as if they could protect him against something that could actually prove a threat to the Family Head.
"This dorm, do we have an intruder in my place?" Drenvar asked. He didn't seem particularly bothered and continued to walk forward unhurried.
Skya shook her head. "There shouldn't be. But the smell of blood is too thick. Something must be wrong."
Drenvar grunted.
The Knights hurried forward. Two of them stood in front of the door, and their bodies were covered in ruddy energy. They raised their feet and kicked the door in, blowing it away from its hinges, sending splinters flying.
They rushed in, and a second later, one of them rushed right back and shook his head. His face was filled with confusion. "There are no intruders here, Your Grace."
Drenvar didn't say anything as he continued to stride forward. When he got to the door, one of the Knights announced him.
"Hail, Drenvar Vorrakyn, Dragon Lord of the Vorrakyn, Lord of Kragthar and the surrounding cities, Grand Duke of the Western region!"
The Vorrakyn hold the title of the Grand Duke of the West. It's a title that should mean they control the western part of the Empire, but that's just a title left from when they were great.
They barely managed to survive in their own territory, and all their lands were sold away when they couldn't manage them with their own power.
There are rumors that the Emperor is even considering taking the title from them and giving it to one of the western dukes. The only thing still stopping them is the fact that the Vorrakyn family was one of the founding fathers of the Empire and helped carve it out from the warring continent.
And the thin silver hope that they might still yet bring forth a Dragon. Maybe even a weak dragon.
As it is, though.
Everyone's waiting for Drenvar's children to bond with a Dragon. Even the family's enemies were still wary of the possibility.
Because it's a known fact that the Vorrakyn family would either end with Drenvar's generation and his heir.
That was why anytime Drenvar heard that title, he always clenched his fist, his eyes hardening.
Everyone in the room, including Skya, bowed.
But Drenvar was only looking at the room. "What is going on here? Head servant, what is this disrespect?"
Just then, Drenvar felt a flash of heat against him, and his body reacted before he even thought about it. A burst of energy exploded from him with such force that those around him were thrown away.
His body twisted and morphed in a blink.
Claws came from his hand, and scales ripped above his skin. His eyes turned slitted, and his hands grew longer. The aura that came from him was so strong and potent that everyone in the room fell to their knees.
Almost all the children fainted.
A partial shift.
As an Ascended, Drenvar could do a full shift, but the bloodlust he felt didn't call for it.
A low growl came from his mouth as he slowly turned, looking for the source of the threat that forced a partial shift.
He didn't find any.
So what did he feel that made him feel threatened? He felt an intent of death.
"Lord Drenvar, what's wrong?" Skya said as she picked herself up from the ground.
Drenvar didn't answer. He'd spent so much of his life fighting that he recognized when someone wanted him dead before they even showed their blades.
His eyes swung around again, and he zeroed in on an odd thing in the room.
One of the children was standing.
That alone shocked Drenvar into changing back into his human form. His shadow twisted, and glowing yellow eyes appeared in it. "Calm down, it's nothing."
The eyes disappeared, and Drenvar walked towards the boy. "What do we have here?"