Dragon King's Harem Chapter 460. Wrong Path
Dragon King's Harem Chapter 460. Wrong Path
The blade formed without a word.
[Mana Weapon – Nightmare]
His eyes met mine, calm in the last second.
He didn’t beg.
He didn’t curse.
He just nodded.
And I stabbed.
Straight through the heart.
His body jerked once. Then went still.
[You just killed Duke Cedric of the Frozen Veil]
[You get +20% Ice Resistance status bonus]
[You got bonus status!]
[Level up!] X10
[You are now Level 210. HP + 1000, Mana + 100, ATK and MATK + 50, DEF and SPD +12]
[HP: 7,300/14,300]
[Mana: 5,000/5,000]
[ATK: 1,430] [M.ATK:1,480]
[SPD: 540] [DEF: 510]
I stepped back as his body slumped forward, crumpling into the stone and snow, finally still. His blood seeped into the arena floor like ink bleeding through parchment. The arena had gone quiet again. Utterly silent.
No cheer.
No applause.
Just the wind.
Just the cold.
And a corpse who once called himself a duke—
but who fell too hard for a queen who never chose him.
I stood over him for a second longer, blade dimming, the silence around us suddenly deafening after the storm of steel and flame.
The snow around his body had melted from the residual heat of our battle, blood mixing into the slush like ink in dirty water. He’d gone still with his eyes half open. Not from fear. Not even from pain. Just… disbelief.
I took a slow breath.
My chest ached. My ribs screamed. My mana coiled low in my veins, almost spent—but not empty.
What a pity.
“You took the wrong path,” I murmured, voice barely above a whisper. “But godsdamn, you were a good warrior, Cedric.”
I stepped back, bloodied boots grinding over cracked stone.
“I never thought… a duke… could push me this far.”
I lifted my head, dragged a breath so deep it burned in my chest—then let it out in a roar that shook the courtyard.
Not just a shout.
A dragon’s roar.
Raw. Primal. Echoing like thunder cracking through mountains.
The message? “THE DUKE IS DEAD!”
The soldiers on my side—the few loyalists to Queen Maria, the ones scattered and cornered across the city, they’d been waiting for that.
And now they would move.
They’d break open the cells. Free the nobles still loyal to her bloodline. Unlock the courtyards where the staff—her guards, her maids, her friends—were held. The people she trusted most. The ones Cedric branded traitors for staying at her side.
Almost every noble, every palace guard, every damn steward was on his payroll. But not all.
And now?
Now the chains came off.
Queen Maria raised her hand, pale against the sky. Her mana pulsed once—then exploded upward in a burst of shimmering frost.
Icefire.
Delicate, crackling streaks of icy blue that burst like fireworks overhead, trailing through the air in streaks of light and snow. A signal to the entire city.
The wedding is canceled.
It was a beautiful symbol.
But peace doesn’t come just because she declares it.
The moment the last shimmer of frost flickered out, I heard it.
Boots.
Shouts.
The pounding rhythm of grief turned rage.
They came into the courtyard in a wave—Cedric’s men. His knights. His personal guard. Some were armored, others still in formal attire, but all of them had one thing in common.
Their eyes.
Some wide. Some burning. Some… wet with tears they didn’t try to hide.
They saw his body.
They froze.
I didn’t move.
For a few seconds, time was still.
A tall man dropped to his knees beside Cedric, his blade falling from limp fingers. “He’s gone…” he whispered. Another let out a low, animalistic sob and cradled Cedric’s head like a fallen brother. Their leader wasn’t just a commander to them. He was something deeper. A symbol. A bond.
He wasn’t a king.
But they followed him like one.
And now their king was dead.
The rage cracked loose.
The ones grieving rose first.
Then the angry ones stormed toward me.
Screams. Cries. Magic surged behind them—swords conjured, armor flared, fire and steel coming fast.
They didn’t hesitate.
And neither did I.
I didn’t draw my blade.
I didn’t need to.
My hand spread wide.
“Hell Inferno.”
The ground cracked open beneath their feet. Fire surged up in molten spears, thick and alive, bursting in vertical gouts that forced them to halt their charge or be incinerated. The heat blasted across the courtyard, melting the outer frost and curling their cloaks.
But they still came.
Good.
I lifted my other hand.
“Freeze.”
Frost exploded outward like a shockwave. The flames didn’t vanish—they twisted—turning to steam as the cold clashed with the inferno. The ground beneath them turned to slick ice. Two of them slipped, crashing into each other, weapons flying from their hands.
A third recovered quickly—rushed me.
“Ice Lance,” I muttered.
A ring of razor-sharp icicles erupted from the ground, catching him mid-stride. They didn’t impale him—but they shattered his momentum. He crashed through them, bleeding, screaming.
Another mage began casting a bolt of wind at my side.
I turned, dropped to one knee, and whispered, “Earth Spike.”
The stone split like it was breathing. A jagged shard of obsidian shot up from the floor and knocked the spellcaster clear off his feet. He hit the ground in a heap, groaning, bones likely cracked.
Still they came.
One shouted, “YOU KILLED HIM!”
I didn’t respond.
Another hurled a frost spear at my head. I tilted slightly. It whizzed past.
I raised my palm.
“Thunder Orbs.”
The sky rumbled. Static coiled around me in bright orbs of flickering lightning, like sentient stars orbiting my body. I pointed forward—and they flew.
Fifty in total. Each targeting a different man. They exploded on impact—not with fire, but with paralyzing force. Screams filled the air as their nerves fried, their bodies twitching uncontrollably as they dropped.
Two more tried to flank me. I saw it through the peripheral shimmer of mana.
“Shadow Walk.”
I vanished.
Reappeared behind them mid-step.
“Nova Burst.”
A violent surge of heat and force erupted around me in a wide pulse. Not fire—raw pressure. It sent them flying. They hit the wall and slumped. One didn’t get back up.
The courtyard was smoke and steam and shattered stone now. Blood slicked the marble. The air reeked of scorched mana, sweat, and broken pride.
And still more charged.
Their emotions weren’t wrong.
They should be angry.
But this wasn’t a war I started.