Chapter 178

Throughout the Ragnar military camp, rumors spread like wildfire.

“Theo Ragnar has been chosen by the Primeval Dragon!”

“He opened the mysteries of the White Tower and bound the dragons within as his vassals!”

“Beneath the ground, Desert Worms protect him; on land, Drakes; in the skies, Wyverns and Griffins; and in magic, Fairy Dragons shield him.”

“Even the Black Iron Guard and the Red Sword Knights were overwhelmed by the dragon army’s sheer force!”

From incredulous whispers to blatant exaggerations, the details varied. But one thing was certain:

“For the first time since Sigurd, someone beloved by the dragons has been born.”

To the Ragnar clan, this was monumental. It was a moment that embodied their deepest identity as descendants of dragon-kind.

The mocking words of rival factions like Troivan—scoffing at their ties to dragons—could no longer be uttered.

And when word spread that Kyle himself had personally taken Theo away, the camp grew tense with speculation.

“I heard Torkel didn’t look pleased at all…”

“But Lese seemed oddly delighted.”

“They say Lese met Theo once before and pledged an alliance. Could that rumor be true?”

“Ansiho has yet to make any statement, hasn’t he?”

“I’m curious how Kincarnon will react once he emerges from his secluded training.”

“He might welcome the challenge of a strong competitor.”

“True. But if anyone would’ve been furious, it should’ve been Gishar. Has anyone seen him lately?”

“There’s talk that someone saw him approaching the White Tower secretly when the Black Iron Guard and White Dragon Cavalry clashed…”

“What? If that’s true…”

The conversations trailed off, but even those less attuned to politics could sense the air had shifted.

Swish!

Theo trailed behind Kyle, who sped effortlessly through the sky.

Riding atop his sword as though it were second nature, Kyle moved with such speed that even Umbra, Theo’s wyvern, struggled to keep pace.

『Surpassing the realms of swordsmanship and divine blade arts… He’s become the sword itself. That man isn’t human.』

Lodbrok scowled as she watched Kyle, her dissatisfaction clear. She found no weakness, no openings to exploit.

“He doesn’t feel human at all,” Theo agreed.

『That’s no reason to laugh. You aim for the very seat he occupies—a throne where humanity must be cast aside. A place for monsters.』

The higher Theo climbed, the more he felt the towering presence of Kyle as an unscalable wall.

Unable to respond, Theo scratched his cheek awkwardly.

“What is that? Is it human? What kind of monster hides behind that mask?”

“It’s a monster, but it’s human. And it’s… Ragnar?”

“Doesn’t seem like it. Too ‘human,’ somehow.”

“I wondered why someone like Theo could exist, but it all makes sense now. He inherited this madness.”

Even the lingering spirits whispered, admitting they’d never encountered anyone of Kyle’s caliber in their lifetimes.

The throne had never loomed so high.

Thud.

Kyle’s destination turned out to be a barren, desolate mountain far from the camp.

Not a single blade of grass grew here. Theo landed softly beside Kyle, who stood atop a cliff overlooking the barren terrain below.

“This place…”

“Look down,” Kyle instructed, gesturing to the expanse below.

Theo tilted his head, seeing nothing but an empty clearing. But when he imbued his vision with [Spiritual Insight]—

Thoom!

“Urgh…!”

『Partner!』

A sudden, searing pain struck Theo’s head, causing him to stagger. Lodbrok quickly moved to support him, glaring at Kyle.

『What have you done?!』

“This is a matter for Ragnar. Ghosts of bygone eras should step aside,” Kyle said calmly.

『What?!』

Before Lodbrok could protest further, Kyle waved his hand lightly.

Her form flickered like a candle in the wind and vanished.

“You can see it, can’t you?” Kyle asked.

“Yes… I can,” Theo replied, his voice strained.

“Then look closely.”

Despite the throbbing pain still gnawing at his mind, Theo forced himself to focus.

Beyond the shifting world, he saw it—a maelstrom of black miasma swirling violently.

“Why is there demonic energy here?”

“Why do you think? It’s because of what you did.”

“...?”

Kyle’s tone carried a hint of amusement. Theo frowned, unsure of what his father meant until realization struck him.

“Is the Sacred Demonic Cult attempting to revive the Nameless Sovereign?”

“Correct. Now tell me—what did you do to bring that about?”

Theo scratched his cheek, unsure how to explain the Phantom Blade’s spirits or the sorceress queen bound within it.

“You fool.”

“…Excuse me?”

“You act clever most of the time, but now you’re being remarkably naive,” Kyle said with a scoff, his hands clasped behind his back.

“You’ve declared your intent to compete for the throne. That means you’re prepared to handle any opposition from your siblings, correct?”

“Yes… I am,” Theo replied.

“Then remember, I am one of those obstacles. As long as I live, I will not relinquish the throne.”

Kyle’s eyes narrowed, his gaze sharp and unyielding.

“And yet, here you are, ready to spill all your secrets. Do you know how I might use that information against you?”

“…”

It was a warning.

A king must never reveal his innermost thoughts to anyone—not even to his closest allies.

The throne was a solitary place, and Kyle’s words served as a stark reminder of that truth.

But—

“It’s fine,” Theo said, smiling.

Kyle’s brow furrowed.

“What did you say?”

“There’s nothing wrong with a son sharing his experiences with his father,” Theo replied with a grin.

“…”

“The throne may transcend familial bonds, but once in a while, can’t we set aside the weight of the world and just be father and son?”

Kyle pressed his lips together, his expression unreadable.

“I respect you, Father.”

“Not resent me?”

“I did, once. As a child, I couldn’t understand. But now I see how hard it must’ve been for you—and how much harder it must be now. Protecting something is far more difficult than achieving it. That’s why I respect you.”

“…”n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

For a long moment, Kyle said nothing, his lips parting slightly before closing again.

His gaze wavered, and fleeting emotions flickered across his face.

“Father… why would you do such a thing?”

“My son, my dear son… You’ll understand one day why I made these choices. You’ll hate me for them, too.”

“No! I refuse! I don’t want to become like you!”

Memories of his younger days surfaced, unbidden.

Kyle waved a hand as though physically brushing the thoughts aside, a faint smile on his lips.

“You’ve grown adept at flattery.”

“If it came off that way, I apologize.”

“Enough. Sharing a drink with you might be amusing, but that’ll have to wait. For now, let’s focus on the matter at hand.”

Theo turned his gaze back to the vortex of miasma.

“I despise that,” Kyle said.

By that, Theo understood he meant the Nameless Sovereign.

“And I despise this,” Kyle added, his gaze fixed on Theo.

Theo’s instincts told him exactly what Kyle meant.

This—he was speaking of Lodbrok.

“And it’s not just those. Everything surrounding them—pantheons, foreign gods, all of it. I hate them all.”

Kyle’s disdain for the divine and otherworldly was palpable, carrying an air not of indifference but of sheer contempt.

“They stand on stages where Ragnar can never tread. We’re nothing more than extras in their play, our lives mere puppets to their whims. I want to destroy it all. That’s why I’ve fought to this point.”

Kyle’s gaze darkened, his voice resolute.

“I hope you’ll walk the same path as I.”

At that moment, Theo finally understood the depths of his father’s resolve—the reason he had shattered Lodbrok’s heart and stood against the Nameless Sovereign.

***

Theo returned to the barracks of the White Dragon Cavalry, his mind weighed down by the day’s events.

The camp was abuzz with rumors about him, so he decided to send all the dragons back to the White Tower and descend quietly with Umbra by his side.

『What did you discuss with your father?』

Lodbrok’s voice came through their shared channel, but Theo avoided giving a detailed answer.

“Nothing much, really.”

In truth, Kyle’s words still echoed in his mind.

“By now, you must have a sense of the truth of this world, given how far you’ve come.”

“The Outer Gods, the Nameless Sovereign, and the so-called Guardians of the Pantheon. The cycle of destruction and rebirth that repeats with each apocalypse. Ragnar’s purpose in this endless cycle. Does any of it seem natural to you?”

“Ragnar’s life doesn’t exist within that system—we’re nothing more than tools.”

“I detest it all, and that’s why I want to destroy it.”

“Son.”

“I will become a god—a being that neither the Pantheon nor the Outer Gods can touch. And then, I will destroy everything.”

“What about you? What do you think?”

Theo couldn’t shake the gravity of his father’s declaration.

"This is the first time Father has shared his true intentions."

Kyle’s words about becoming a god carried immense weight. It was a statement that implicitly recognized Theo as a legitimate successor, someone Kyle deemed worthy of continuing his legacy.

This recognition, however, was something all five previous candidates must have experienced at least once.

The problem lay in Theo’s unique position: he was the culmination of Ragnar’s legacy, chosen by both the Primeval Dragon and the Guardian Dragon.

Their paths—his and Kyle’s—were destined to diverge, perhaps even clash.

This made Theo reluctant to share the full details of Kyle’s plans with Lodbrok. He, too, was now grappling with the burden of his lineage and its secrets.

"The more I learn, the heavier the throne becomes."

At the same time, he couldn’t help but wonder: were there even more secrets about the family that he had yet to uncover?

But despite his growing doubts, Theo had no intention of halting his forward march.

As he gathered his thoughts, he noticed a figure waiting near the entrance to the barracks.

"Who’s that?"

The woman standing there smiled brightly at him.

“You’re here earlier than I thought,” she greeted.

“This is the first time we’re meeting properly, isn’t it? A pleasure, sister.”

“Likewise.”

It was Ansio, one of the five candidates for the throne and the twin sister of Gishar.

Strangely, she appeared to be alone—her famed personal guards were nowhere in sight.

“To what do I owe the honor of this visit?”

“Have you seen my brother Gishar?”

“Gishar? No, I’m afraid I haven’t.”

“Hmm, is that so?”

Ansio rubbed her chin thoughtfully, then chuckled softly.

“Perhaps he went out for a walk? I’ve heard he’s a rather free-spirited individual.”

“Well, that’s true. He’s the sort to disappear without a word even to his own sister. Such a troublesome brother. Anyway, thanks for your time. Let’s share a drink with Torkel sometime soon, shall we?”

“Of course. I apologize for missing the last gathering due to my travels. I’ll make sure to attend next time.”

“Good. Until then.”

With a wave, Ansio departed as abruptly as she had appeared.

Theo watched her retreating figure and thought, “She’s figured out that I killed him.”

He had anticipated this. It didn’t faze him in the slightest.

What concerned him more was how to deal with the inevitable appearance of the Tyrant Dragon.

"For now, it’s more pressing to handle the individuals waiting inside."

From behind the barracks’ doors, Theo could sense powerful presences.

Dealing with them so soon after conquering the White Tower felt exhausting, but this was an opportunity he couldn’t let slip.

With his resolve steeled, he stepped forward.

“Come in.”

Pushing open the door, Theo entered the barracks to find four figures waiting for him: Julius, the Plum Blossom Palace Lord, Niel, and even the Black Dragon himself.

The atmosphere was intense, though the drinks on the table—coffee and tea—had long since grown cold, suggesting they had been waiting for quite some time.

“Welcome,” the Plum Blossom Palace Lord greeted warmly.

Theo was about to step fully inside when he suddenly halted mid-step.

“...?”

“...?”

“Hm?”

“What’s the matter?”

The four of them exchanged puzzled glances as Theo straightened himself and performed a respectful sword salute.

“Before anything else, I must address something. While it would be appropriate to first apologize for my recent transgressions, I believe it’s more important to state my intentions clearly.”

The four pairs of eyes locked onto him, their gazes sharpening.

But Theo’s own eyes burned even brighter, radiating unyielding determination.

“I intend to succeed my father and claim the throne. I ask for your support.”

For a brief moment, all four individuals were struck by a peculiar thought:

"His eyes… they resemble Kyle’s."