267 The Dragon’s Chosen

No matter how powerful a mage he might be, in William’s eyes Marius was now nothing but a bitter, deluded relic of the past. William would surely keep Colin and Helen by his side—but never Marius himself.

“If you’ve confirmed what you needed, old man, then go back,” Raymond spat coldly. “As His Highness said earlier, you’re useless now.”

Raymond turned away, ready to leave immediately, but Marius suddenly dropped to his knees in front of him.

“Sir Raymond, noble knight, please allow this commoner, Marius, to speak just one last time. Have mercy on an old man and grant me this small favor.”

Raymond stared, speechless, as Marius pressed his forehead desperately against the snow.

“Allow me just one final audience with His Highness. I beg of you, sir.”

The tribespeople stood dumbstruck, gazing at the fierce blue flames erupting from William’s body. Compared to the two earlier candidates whom the dragon had supposedly chosen, William seemed closer to the dragon itself—a true reincarnation. The staggering disparity was so overwhelming that no one dared utter a sound.

At last, William raised a hand into the air, holding something aloft.

“Behold,” he announced loudly, “this is the Dragon’s Heart.”

A stunned murmur spread through the tribespeople as they stared wide-eyed at the artifact William held. Even from afar, the strange, ore-like object pulsed with undeniable vitality, unmistakably extraordinary.

Chief Ivar took one look at it, recognized that William truly held the real Dragon’s Heart, and shouted in disbelief, “Impossible!”

Ivar couldn’t comprehend how William had disconnected the artifact from its device. Even more alarming was that William now casually held it with his bare hands. Without the artifact’s protective mechanism, touching it should have caused instant death. How had he done it?

Ivar’s confusion spiraled, drowning out everything until William’s voice pierced sharply through his haze.

“As you can clearly see, the dragon has chosen me,” William proclaimed confidently. “Its sole purpose in lingering here all these centuries was to wait for my arrival. It rejoiced when I came, declaring its duty finally fulfilled. As the rightful master of its heart, I now claim it openly.”

“Ohhh!” gasped the tribespeople in awe.

Lies! Ivar raged internally. Utter nonsense! All lies!

He barely swallowed the insults rising in his throat. No one knew better than Ivar himself that the Dragon’s Heart possessed no will of its own. Yet he was powerless as he watched his people stare at William with shining eyes, utterly entranced by his words.

He desperately wanted to shout at them, to denounce William’s absurd claims—but his hands were tied. After all, Ivar himself had previously declared that the heart had chosen a hero. He clenched his teeth in bitter frustration, certain that the sacred relic was now lost forever.

But just as despair overcame him, William spoke again.

“Yet,” William continued magnanimously, “though I have every right to claim this heart, the Chief has guarded it faithfully until today. Thus, it is only fair that he be given the same opportunity. He was once chosen by the dragon, after all.”

Ivar felt a sudden, icy dread tighten around him. Something about William’s words was deeply unsettling. Before he could react, William turned toward him with a predatory smile.

“Come, Chief Ivar!” William’s voice rang out mockingly. “Take the Dragon’s Heart into your own hands! If the dragon truly chooses you again, as it once did, I will surrender the throne to you without hesitation!”

Ivar’s face went deathly pale, frozen in shock at the completely unexpected challenge.

“This is insane!”

Ivar stood frozen, unable to act as he faced the dragon’s heart.

He had no idea how William was able to hold the heart in his bare hands, but its overwhelming power still radiated fiercely.

Now that it was completely separated from the artifact, touching it directly would be a death sentence—its raw energy would overwhelm his body, reducing him to nothing more than scattered ashes.

And yet, with the entire tribe watching, rejecting William’s offer without a valid reason was just as impossible.

Damn it. What the hell am I supposed to do?

Unlike William, Ivar couldn’t produce a dramatic display of power. The outcome of this so-called favor was already determined.

Though he couldn’t absorb the heart’s energy, he needed to at least hold it without incident. That was the only way to prove he had once been acknowledged by the heart.

But if he had held it without issue before, only to now explode upon touching it again, it would raise a question he couldn’t afford to answer.

It would expose him for what he truly was—a fraud who had never been chosen by the heart in the first place. A man who had stolen its power for his own gain.

If my lies are exposed now, this won’t just end with my name being tarnished.

His sons would suffer for it too.

Even if they were outstanding in their own right, they would never escape the shadow of their father’s disgrace. No matter what they achieved, people would sneer, claiming the blood of a conman ran through their veins.

And worse, both Ainar and Brunda had used the method Ivar had taught them to acquire the dragon’s power.

The tribe would assume that the entire family had knowingly played along with his deception.

Of all times… why does this have to happen now, after I laid everything bare?

Trapped with no way out, Ivar clenched his eyes shut.

There was no escaping this unscathed.

The only option left was to sacrifice something and minimize the damage.

William’s voice, laced with mockery, pulled him back to reality.

“What’s the matter? Go on, take the heart. I am offering you a chance.”

Ivar took a deep breath.

There was only one thing he could surrender that would cost him the least while preserving what little dignity he had left.

His pride.

“I appreciate your generosity,” Ivar finally said, “but I must decline. I already know the outcome without touching the heart.”

William narrowed his eyes. “And what exactly do you mean by that?”

“I can hear the dragon’s voice,” Ivar declared solemnly. “It tells me it has already chosen its master. There is no point in holding the heart—it will not respond to me now.”