Dragon King's Harem Chapter 541. The Dwarven Land I
Dragon King's Harem Chapter 541. The Dwarven Land I
More hours passed.
The sky darkened slowly as the suns dipped behind the jagged spine of the mountains that separated fairy territory from dwarven land. The wind grew heavier too. Less sweet. Less floral. The air here carried stone dust, iron, and something deeper that always reminded me of old tunnels and molten earth.
Dwarven mana.
It pressed differently against my senses. Dense. Grounded. Like gravity had opinions.
We had been flying for hours again, the rhythm of wingbeats and carriage chains steady behind me, but the moment the capital appeared on the horizon my mind sharpened instantly.
There it was.
The dwarven capital.
Not delicate like the fairy towns we had just left. No petals, no pastel towers.
Stone.
Massive slabs of it carved directly into the mountain face, layers upon layers of terraces and platforms climbing upward like someone stacked fortresses on top of each other until the sky had to make room. The outer walls were thick enough to survive centuries of siege. Runic pylons rose from the cliff edges, glowing faintly with defensive magic.
And above those walls?
Sky towers.
Then there were also tall crystalline pillars designed to intercept aerial threats.
Or welcome them.
Depending on who was flying.
I circled once above the city.
Below me the dwarven capital moved like a machine that never stopped working. Smoke stacks exhaled long trails into the evening sky. Bridges connected towers. Market lights flickered on as dusk crept in.
It was… impressive.
Stubborn people built stubborn cities.
Behind me, the carriage and the soldiers tightened formation.
The wedding invitation had already been sent ahead.
Which meant they were expecting us.
I angled downward.
Lower.
Lower.
Close enough that the defensive crystals would notice.
I inhaled deeply and then let out a single controlled roar.
It rolled across the city like thunder trapped inside a mountain.
The response came immediately.
Runic towers flared.
For a second the air shimmered as the defensive network recognized the signal. Then the barrier parted smoothly, the crystal pylons dimming just enough to open a path.
Permission granted.
We passed through.
I could feel the eyes on us immediately.
Dwarves below pointing upward. Guards along the walls straightening. Messengers already running.
Word would reach the palace in seconds.
The Dragon King had arrived.
We descended toward the main sky platform.
Another carriage had already landed nearby. Elegant, pale, glowing faintly under moonlight.
Fairy craftsmanship.
So the fairy delegation had arrived before us.
I landed first.
Stone cracked faintly under the impact of my claws. The platform was reinforced, but dragon weight was still dragon weight.
Wind rolled across the landing tower as my wings folded slowly.
Behind me, the soldiers landed one by one.
Then the shift.
Mana moved through my body again as I shrank back into humanoid form. Scales withdrew. Wings folded away. Armor settled neatly against my frame.
Black horns curved from my head.
Blue eyes adjusting again to human height.
My soldiers did the same, reforming into disciplined rows in their draconis uniforms.
No armor.
Formal travel attire.
Still intimidating.
Still unmistakably military.
Al landed next.
And of course he made it dramatic.
He jumped off his wyvern saddle mid-descent, coat flaring as the wind curled around him like he had personally negotiated with gravity for better stage presence.
He landed smoothly, boots tapping stone, cloak swirling once before settling.
Honestly.
Sometimes I wondered if he practiced that.
He looked far too pleased with himself.
But the reason he looked relaxed?
I knew why.
No witch tribe royalty here.
Which meant Al could behave like his natural self.
A slightly unhinged magical prodigy with villain fashion sense.
The carriage descended behind us.
Chains creaked. Wyverns flapped heavily before settling onto the platform.
Dwarven officials were already approaching.
Three of them.
Formal robes layered over chainmail. Beards braided with small metal rings. Heavy boots echoing across the stone.
They bowed respectfully.
“Your Majesty,” the lead official said. “Welcome to the dwarven capital.”
I nodded once.
Not warm.
Not cold.
Just acknowledgment.
“We appreciate the invitation.”
Behind me, the carriage door opened.
The platform went quieter.
Evelina stepped out first.
Graceful as always.
Even after hours of travel she looked composed, her pale robes catching the evening wind lightly as she descended the steps.
The dwarven officials bowed politely.
They knew who she was.
Healer princess.
Then Marissa stepped out.
Her brown hair caught the torchlight briefly, making her look almost luminous.
The dwarves nodded again, respectful but neutral.
Most of them probably did not recognize her properly.
Exiled nymph nobles were not common dinner conversation here.
Then the last figure appeared in the doorway.
Sela.
And the entire atmosphere shifted.
She stepped down slowly.
No bouncing energy.
No mechanical curiosity.
No playful smile.
Just stillness.
Her eyes were sharp and cold in a way I had never seen before.
Not fear.
Not sadness.
Something harder.
Recognition.
Home.
And betrayal.
The dwarven officials froze.
One of them inhaled sharply.
“…Lady Sela,” he said quietly.
The name hung in the air.
I watched her closely.
Because this moment mattered more than the entire journey.
She didn’t look at me.
She looked at the city.
At the towers.
At the stone that once belonged to her.
Her jaw tightened.
Then she looked back at the official.
“I never thought you would come to this land again,” the staff member continued softly.
Her voice came out calm.
Too calm.
“Sela came,” she said.
A pause.
Then she lifted her chin slightly.
“Sela came as the Dragon King’s wife.”
The words landed like a hammer on steel.
Not shouted.
Not emotional.
Just fact.
The dwarves looked between us.
Between me.
And her.
Understanding moved through their expressions slowly.
I stood beside her without touching her.
But close enough that the message was obvious.
She was not alone.
The evening wind swept across the platform, carrying the distant sound of dwarven forges and the quiet tension of a city that suddenly realized an old ghost had returned.
And the wedding hadn’t even started yet.