Dragon King's Harem Chapter 580. A Record
Dragon King's Harem Chapter 580. A Record
I flicked two fingers.
The lances fired.
Not all at once.
In sequence.
The first five pinned her roots to the floor. The next ten stabbed through the wooden extensions spreading from her gown. Another volley drove into the stone around her, sealing escape paths with jagged ice. She twisted, deflecting two with her frozen blade, but Nightmare was already there.
I stepped in.
Swing.
Her sword shattered.
I slammed my palm forward.
‘Telekinetic.’
Elowen flew backward, crashing against the frozen root mass near the throne steps. Before she could recover, more ice lances struck around her shoulders, arms, and legs, pinning cloth, roots, and wooden armor to the wall behind her.
Not through vital points.
Not yet.
I needed her alive.
Evidence.
Answers.
Humiliation.
All the expensive things.
She spat blood-green sap and glared at me. “You think this ends here?”
“No.”
I walked toward her slowly, Nightmare dragging a dark line through the frost-covered floor. “This ends when I say it ends.”
She tried to raise her hand again.
A root emerged from beneath her sleeve.
I lifted Nightmare and pressed the blade to her neck.
The entire hall seemed to quiet around that single movement.
Elowen froze.
I leaned closer, smiling softly. “Don’t.” My voice dropped. “I’m still holding myself back.”
Her throat moved against the edge of Nightmare.
The venomous roots around her trembled.
“Don’t make me use fire.”
That landed.
Hard.
Because wood feared fire.
Fire was not just pain.
Fire was erasure.
Of course, the real reason I chose ice was because fire would burn the evidence. The roots. The poison flowers. Durharn’s remains. The documents. The mana residue. The proof.
And I wasn’t stupid enough to destroy my own case just because fire looked cooler.
But Elowen didn’t need to know that.
Let her think I was being merciful.
Let her fear what mercy was holding back.
Behind me, Seranaya screamed as Sela and Marissa forced her down from the throne steps. “Mother!”
Elowen’s eyes flicked toward her daughter.
Mistake.
I pressed Nightmare a little closer.
A thin line appeared against her skin. “Eyes on me.”
She looked back.
Across the hall, the nymph soldiers were losing. The antidote bloom had ruined their biggest advantage. The dragon soldiers crushed their formation. Bird clan warriors locked down the doors. Al’s shadows strangled movement. Evelina’s barriers protected the delegations. The guests were still frightened.
Still weak.
But their eyes were clear now.
And clear enough to understand who had saved them.
I smiled at Elowen. Coldly this time. “You wanted witnesses dead,” I said. “Instead, you gave them front-row seats.”
Her lips curled. “You are making a mistake, Dragon King.”
“No.” Nightmare pulsed. “I’m making a record.”
Elowen stared at me for half a breath, then laughed. A low, ugly, confident laugh that scraped against the frozen silence around us like a knife against bone.
“A record?” she repeated, voice dripping with mockery. “You think this will stop me?”
Her eyes flicked toward the hall, toward the nobles trembling behind broken tables, toward the poisoned but recovering guests, toward the nymph soldiers getting dragged down by dragon shields and bird clan flames.
“You think witnesses matter?”
I didn’t answer.
Because sometimes villains liked to dig their own graves, and honestly? I was polite enough to let her use both hands.
Elowen’s smile widened despite Nightmare resting against her neck.
“I am a nymph,” she said softly. “A queen of a peaceful race. A mother who came here to bless her daughter’s marriage. And you?” Her gaze sharpened. “You are the Dragon King.”
The hall stayed quiet.
Even Seranaya, now restrained by Sela’s earth cuffs and Marissa’s clean vines, stopped struggling for a moment.
Elowen continued, voice growing clearer, stronger, poisonous in a different way now.
“You are the bloodlust king. The conqueror. The tyrant who walked across tribes and bent them under your claws. Orcs. Minotaurs. Snow elves. Lizards. Dwarves will not be hard for people to believe next.”
She wasn’t completely wrong.
Not about me being a tyrant. No. That part was rude and legally debatable.
But the public image? Yeah.
A nymph attacking a dragon was like telling people a deer ate a lion.
Impossible.
Absurd enough that fools would laugh before asking for proof.
Dragons were power.
Nymphs were beauty, healing forests, pretty flowers, peaceful dances, herbal tea, and apparently occasional government coups via pollen distribution.
But the public didn’t know the last part.
They knew dragons burned cities.
They knew nymphs grew gardens.
So yes.
If this story left this hall wrong, plenty of people would believe I killed Durharn.
Plenty would believe I framed Seranaya.
Plenty would believe I tried to take the Dwarven Kingdom’s throne.
A perfect lie didn’t need to be true.
It only needed to sound easier than the truth.
Elowen leaned forward slightly, pressing her throat closer to Nightmare like she wanted to prove she still had courage.
“Try to kill me,” she whispered. “Go ahead. The rumors will spread before your soldiers leave this mountain.”
The hall held its breath again.
Even Seraphel’s eyes narrowed slightly.
The Fairy Queen looked grim.
I finally smiled. Slowly. “Ho… Trying to threaten me, huh?”
She said nothing.
I tilted my head, keeping Nightmare steady against her neck. “But let me tell you something…” Then I raised my voice. “Sela.”
Sela moved instantly. She threw something upward.
A crystal.
Small.
Clear.
At first, it looked like nothing special.
Then it stopped midair.
Floating.
Spinning slowly.
And the moment Sela snapped her fingers…
It lit up.
[Broadcast Crystal Activated]
[Recorder Type: Expanded]
[Transmission Link: Released]
[Stored Visual Record: Active]
[Stored Audio Record: Active]
[Authority Witness Log: Active]
[External Receiver Projection: Enabled]
The crystal burst open with light.
Several rectangular projections unfolded around it in the air like floating mirrors. Each one shimmered, sharpened, and revealed faces.
Courts.
Throne rooms.
War chambers.
Royal councils.
Watching.
Elowen’s eyes widened.
That beautiful moment when someone realized the room was never the room.
It was a stage.
And the audience had been much bigger than she thought.