August 9, 2026

Dragon King's Harem Chapter 578. Ambitious

Seranaya laughed softly from the throne behind her. “Mother,” she said, voice sweet and rotten, “be careful. He is still a dragon.”

Elowen didn’t look back. “A wounded one.” She stepped closer. “You should have stayed away from this wedding, Dragon King.”

I lowered my head, letting my hair shadow my eyes.

My breathing slowed, because the moment had finally reached that delicious little point where the villain believed the stage belonged to her.

And I loved that point.

Elowen smiled as she raised her wooden hand. The poisoned roots around her fingers twisted tighter, thorns glistening with a black-green fluid that steamed faintly against the air. Even the nearby nymph soldiers stepped back a little.

So even her own people knew that hand wasn’t something to touch casually.

She aimed straight at my chest and lunged.

Faster than her elegant dress suggested. Her root hand sharpened mid-motion, fingers merging into one long poisoned spear, the tip aimed at the exact place my heart should be.

I didn’t move.

Not even a flinch.

Several guests cried out as Elowen’s root spear pierced forward, crossing the small distance between us in a blur of wood and venom.

Then…

It stopped. Completely.

The poisonous root hovered a breath away from my chest, close enough that I could smell its bitter sap. Close enough that a tiny drop of venom fell from the thorned tip and hissed when it touched the floor.

Elowen’s eyes widened.

Her arm trembled.

Not from effort.

From resistance.

She tried to push forward.

Nothing.

Her smile vanished.

Then she looked down.

Shadow bound her body.

Not mine.

These shadows were cleaner. Thinner. Sharper. They crawled from beneath her feet, wrapped around her ankles, waist, wrists, throat, delicate like silk threads, but strong enough to hold a queen in place.

Witch Tribe shadow spells.

Behind me, Al was still on the floor.

He was lying face-down against the stone like some tragic corpse abandoned by theater society, robe spread around him, cheek pressed flat to the floor, monocle somehow still perfectly attached because apparently even gravity respected his nonsense.

For one awful second, anyone would think he was completely useless.

Then… His fingers moved.

Barely.

Just two lazy fingers raised from a man who looked like he had lost a personal argument with the floor.

And somehow, that was enough.

Shadow answered him.

Clean. Silent. Ruthless.

The bindings snapped around Elowen tightened before she even understood who had cast them.

I nearly laughed.

But Elowen wasn’t done realizing how badly she had stepped into it.

Because in front of me, a clear golden barrier shimmered into existence. Soft at first, then solid. Layered light patterns bloomed across its surface like sacred glass.

Healer Tribe barrier.

Evelina’s.

She had cast it so quietly that even I barely caught the first pulse.

The poisonous root hit the barrier with a dull crackle, and the venom burned against the golden surface harmlessly.

Elowen’s face twisted.

Then her feet sank.

Stone softened beneath her shoes, swallowing her ankles with a low grinding sound. Earth mana locked around her like chains, hardened instantly, and trapped her in place from below.

Sela’s earth trap spell.

The Nymph Queen looked down, then up, then around herself, disbelief slowly replacing arrogance.

Beautiful.

A masterpiece of group bullying.

I lifted my gaze.

And smiled.

My real one.

The hall seemed to notice before she did.

A ripple moved through the air.

Nightmare pulsed in my hand, its dark veins glowing deeper, hungrier.

Elowen’s eyes widened in shock.

Worth the entire theater.

I straightened fully. No wounded dragon nonsense.

My shoulders rolled once as the weight of the act fell off me like old dust. Evelina released me and stepped back, her frightened face melting into calm fury. Sela rose beside me, cold and sharp, her fingers still glowing faintly with earth mana. Marissa lifted her head, eyes clear, smile faint.

Behind us, Al stopped playing dead properly.

He sat up slowly, adjusted his monocle, and said in the driest voice possible, “Ah. My great power returns.”

I almost laughed.

Elowen froze. Not because she suddenly understood everything. Because she understood enough.

I rolled my neck once.

Then looked directly at her poisoned root hand.

“You know,” I said lightly, “for someone who uses plants, you really should know when you’ve walked into a trap.”

Her lips parted.

No words came.

Good.

Finally.

A peaceful second.

Then Marissa moved.

She raised one hand slowly, almost lazily, as if she had merely decided the hall needed better decoration.

“Bloom,” she whispered.

At first, nothing happened.

Then every flower in the ceremonial hall answered her.

The garlands around the pillars shivered. The blossoms woven across the tables opened wide. The flowers in the wedding arches, the vines across the throne steps, even the tiny white petals growing from Durharn’s corpse-root nightmare, all of them trembled under Marissa’s command.

Then they bloomed.

All at once.

The hall filled with color.

White petals unfurled into gold. Red flowers opened into pale blue centers. Tiny glowing spores rose into the air, but unlike Seranaya’s poison dance, this didn’t feel heavy or sweet or invasive.

It felt clean.

Like rain after rot.

[Antidote Bloom Activated]

[Marissa’s Complete Antidote Formula: Released]

[Effect: Neutralization, Mana Channel Recovery, Cognitive Resistance Restoration]

The antidote spread through the hall in shimmering mist, carried by flowers Elowen herself had placed as camouflage. The irony was so beautiful it deserved a frame.

Guests gasped as the antidote reached them.

Dwarven nobles blinked rapidly, eyes clearing. Fairy attendants straightened, wings glowing again. Guards who had been slumped against tables began breathing easier. Even some nymph soldiers hesitated as their victims stopped looking quite so helpless.

Queen Elowen stared at Marissa.

For the first time, real hatred crossed her face.

“You…”

Marissa smiled sweetly. “Poisoned flower, right?”

Sela’s lips twitched.

Evelina looked like she wanted to laugh and smite someone at the same time.

I lifted Nightmare.

The hall darkened around the blade.

“Now,” I said, smile sharpening.

“Let me show you why dragons don’t make good prisoners.”