262 Bound by Words

William leaned forward slightly.

“You’ve already sealed your fate with that prophecy. You’ve declared to the world that I am the one who will lead them. If you backpedal now, your own credibility will crumble. No matter what I do from this point on, you have no choice but to support me.”

Marius clenched his fists.

There was nothing he could say to refute it.

William’s logic was airtight. His own words had bound him, left him with no maneuvering room.

‘Damn it. I was too arrogant.’

He had underestimated the boy.

To Marius, William had been nothing more than an emerging sapling—a young, promising talent who, if guided correctly, would naturally turn to him for wisdom. In a foreign land, isolated from the Empire, that dependence would have only grown stronger.

But now, he saw the truth.

William was not a sapling. He was a fully grown tree, roots deep and unshakable.

There was no room for Marius to take hold.

If anything, he should have been the one begging to take shelter beneath William’s shadow.

‘But there was never another option, was there?’

Marius was old. He had little time left.

If he failed to bind William to his cause now, he would never live to see the day the Tower was rebuilt.

He was well aware that it was selfish—his own desperate obsession. But reason could not overpower the weight of a lifetime’s regret.

His mind made up, Marius squared his shoulders and met William’s gaze head-on.

“You’re right. You don’t need me to conquer the north,” he admitted, voice steady. “But you will need me for the next trial.”

William’s eyes narrowed slightly.

“The next trial?”

Marius smirked.

“You already know what it will be, don’t you? At this point, Ivar has only one option left.”

William studied him for a moment, curiosity flickering across his face.

Marius let out a low, humorless chuckle.

“He’s going to pit you against the Heart of the Dragon. He’ll try to rip you apart with it.”

Ainar had always respected his father.

Ivar was far from a perfect man. He was obsessed with power, intolerant of defiance, and stubborn to the point of never admitting his mistakes.

Yet despite his flaws, he was the most formidable warrior in the North and the most trusted chieftain of the tribes.

‘Back then, I thought he was the strongest man in the world.’

A bitter smile tugged at Ainar’s lips as his mind replayed the events of the previous day.

That duel had shattered his perception of strength.

Not just because the victor was a woman.

Not just because it had proven that humans could reach heights of power he had never imagined.

But because it had forced him to accept that his father was no longer at the top.

Even so, his respect for Ivar did not waver.

He had spent his entire life watching the man rule from atop the highest peak. The fact that someone had surpassed him did not make him weak—it simply meant that the sky was broader than Ainar had ever realized.

And yet…

For the first time, he found himself questioning his father’s decisions.

“What did you just say?”

“You heard me. I will grant you fragments of the Dragon’s Heart.”

“…Fragments?”

Ainar’s voice faltered. He stared at his father, uncertain if he had misheard.

Only the chieftain was allowed to approach the Dragon’s Heart.

No one else—no one—was permitted to set foot in the sacred grounds.

And yet, Ivar spoke as if this law was of no consequence.

“Tomorrow, I will lead you all to the sanctum,” Ivar continued. “Officially, it will be to determine whether the Heart recognizes your existence. Once inside, you will absorb its power.”

“Wait—absorb? What do you mean by that?”

“The Heart of the Dragon still holds power within it,” Ivar explained. “It is impossible to take all of it, of course, but a small fragment—enough to strengthen oneself—that much is possible.”

Ainar took a step back, struggling to process the revelation.

“And how do you know this?”

Ivar’s gaze was unreadable.

“Because I have done it myself.”

Ainar’s breath caught.

The Dragon’s Heart was not just an ancestral relic? It granted power?

“You misunderstand,” Ivar said, sensing his son’s turmoil. “It was only in my generation that we learned how to wield it. Our ancestors guarded it without ever realizing its true purpose.”

“Then… what happens when someone takes a fragment?” Ainar asked, his voice quieter now.

For the first time, his father hesitated.

“You will gain unparalleled strength,” Ivar said. “Your body will become tougher, faster, stronger than ever before. That is, of course, if you take only what is necessary. If you get greedy, your body will not withstand the power. It will tear itself apart.”

He fell silent for a moment, his expression turning oddly complex. Then, almost as an afterthought, he murmured:

“Perhaps I misspoke. I should say you will surpass nearly everyone—excluding a select few monsters.”

Ainar did not need to ask who his father was thinking of.

Felicia.

Ivar had likely considered himself the ultimate warrior after absorbing the Dragon’s fragment. And yet, he had been forced to acknowledge the existence of someone far younger, someone untouched by the Dragon’s Heart, who had surpassed him nonetheless.

Ainar felt no sympathy for him.

If his father had reached the peak through his own effort, that would have been one thing. But he had stolen his strength from a dead beast’s remains—what right did he have to feel dissatisfied with his limits?

“Father.”

“Don’t say another word.”

Ivar’s tone was firm, cutting off whatever Ainar had intended to say.

“You’ve always been an idealist,” he continued. “Obsessed with honor, with rules. I know you don’t approve of what I’m offering.”

“And yet, you came to me regardless.”

“Because I am the chieftain,” Ivar snapped. “It is my duty to do whatever is necessary to secure the safety of this land. I will not let my son’s foolish pride hand over the North to an outsider.”

“That’s not—”

“I have already spoken to Brunda.”

Ainar stiffened.

Brunda was not like Goremssen, who cared nothing for honor. But he was still a pragmatist—far more concerned with tangible power than with ideals.

If Ivar had already revealed the secret of the Dragon’s Heart to him, then Ainar refusing would change nothing.

Brunda would take the power.

And in doing so, he would solidify his place as the next chieftain.