Jett’s opulent Mansion condensed into the Carriage Mansion once more, the four loyal Dark Ink Steeds eager to resu their duty.
Though they longed to aid Jett and the others against dragons, such grand battles lay beyond their proper scope.
"Have an enjoyable trip, Lord Warden," Skytianeus said, bowing before the carriage, poised to send off Jett and comnce grand preparations for yet another rightful round of miracles.
"I shall see every wish made fulfilled."
"First, focus on enabling humans and dragons to reproduce," Jett reminded, prompting the old dragon to nod in agreent.
Afterward, he boarded the carriage, his maids in close wake, offering brief goodbyes to the Dragon Guardian, confident they would reunite again quite soon after.
For now, the steeds neighed, eager to descend the mountain and race straight toward the Light Dragons Clan’s capital along shimring stone‑paved roads.
Jett pondered how the dragons might truly react to his colts hauling the carriage down storied Dragon Mountain, yet he wished to avoid further drama after everything that had already happened.
He pictured a handful of competitors.
...
Dawn glided across the sky like a taut bowstring, igniting the horizon behind tiered pagodas boldly clinging to jagged cliffs.
Ribbon‑wide boulevards of jade and quartz drew arrow‑straight lines from gate to summit, buffed so finely they mirrored the clouds themselves.
A lacquered carriage rattled along the skybridge, its wheels whispering over glass‑smooth stone as golden motes drifted past the windows like languid sparks.
Jett leaned across the padded bench, palm bracing the window fra. "Man, seriously, check that skyline—looks like sobody dumped glitter on Mount Fuji and told it to flex hard."
Mia folded her hands atop her lap, posture impeccable. "Master Jett, the vista is truly resplendent. The Light Dragons’ devotion to both speed and splendor is evident upon every polished surface."
Noctlisa thrust her head beyond the velvet curtain. "Hells, that beam‑work’s nuts. Whole damn city crackles like a forge—sorry, Master Jett, but it’s freakin’ gorgeous."
Eleonora permitted a serene smile while gazing through the opposite window. "Their architecture tempers ferocity with grace—indeed, a most fitting tribute to your recent triumph, Master."
Clusters of Light‑Dragon commoners lined the boulevard, their scales glimring gold beneath morning light. Children darted before solemn elders, pointing at the carriage while whispering behind cupped hands.
"Is that the victor who humbled the Dragon Empress?" one youth hissed.
"Aye," an elderly rchant replied, shoulders squared in quiet reverence. "His mansion now rests atop Dragon Mountain. Show respect."
Bows rippled through the crowd like wheat before wind, and the motes brightened as though applauding. Jett dipped two fingers from the window in a casual salute. "Gotta admit, the hero welco feels kinda sweet."
Mia’s cheeks ward with pleased pride. "Your reputation precedes you, Master Jett; their admiration is well earned."
Noctlisa thumped a gauntleted fist to her chest. "Damn right—it’s well earned, equally. Anyone hassles you, I’ll lop ’em a head. Uh—politely, Master Jett."
Eleonora’s chuckle was soft yet clear. "Let us savor their esteem, Master. This city gleams brighter for your presence."
A gold‑flecked thoroughfare split from the public boulevard, arching toward a walled enclave where the clan leader resided. Manicured lawns shimred with gilt grass, while serpentine statues of eastern dragons coiled along the path, each fang catching dawn‑light.
Jett tilted his head as a beam vaulted overhead. "Looks like Fort Knox just hired a feng‑shui master."
Mia’s eyes softened. "The estate epitomizes Light‑Dragon majesty, Master Jett. Even the soil seems blessed."
Noctlisa let out a whistle. "Golden grass? Bet the gardeners piss liquid sunshine."
Eleonora smothered laughter behind gloved fingers. "Language, Noctlisa... Yet I share your awe."
The carriage rolled beneath a crimson torii and crossed a moon‑shaped bridge spanning a mirror‑lake studded with golden bamboo. At its heart rose a manor of sun‑wood whose honeyed timbers glowed as though lit from within.
Hooves stilled in a courtyard paved with auric slate. Jett stepped onto the stones, motes swirling around his boots like fireflies corralled by gravity.
From the veranda descended the Light‑Dragon patriarch—tall despite his age, shoulders square, wrinkles etched by decades of flight. Golden hair stread down his back, while heatless radiance shimred around him like an afterimage of speed.
He inclined his head in a warrior’s bow. "Warden Jett, the clan is honored by your presence. May our humble roost prove worthy of your legend."
Jett grinned and returned the gesture with a relaxed salute. "Long as nobody expects a victory lap before dinner, we’re golden."
Mia swept into a graceful curtsey. "Your hospitality humbles us, venerable lord."
Noctlisa slapped fist to chest. "Master Jett’s blade stands ready, milord—if that makes ya sleep easier."
Eleonora lowered her head with liquid grace. "Our gratitude is boundless, Clan Lord. May this eting strengthen both houses."
The patriarch’s smile deepened, eyes gleaming like molten dawn. "Then co, honored guests. The Light Dragons welco the Warden."
Shortly after, Jett and the others found themselves sitting on the floor atop comfortable mattresses. In front of them sat the Light‑Dragon patriarch, and between both parties rested a low table where a modest feast and several drinks were arrayed. The mood was light as everyone savored the food, Jett sampling everything in reach with an easy smile. He then spoke.
"I ca here to make a few things clear," he said, the mood shifting imdiately into a solemn, almost grave hush. "Several years ago, a Light Dragoness and a human male wrought what so call a miracle."
"..."
At first, the patriarch could not grasp which miracle Jett ant, yet the pairing of a Light Dragoness with a human male soon revealed the truth to him. There had been such an incident: the Light Dragons disciplined a runaway Light Dragoness who had coupled with a human male and brought forth a child. For the elders it was anything but miraculous; it was an ugly blot upon their proud lineage.
Though Jett disliked the elders’ stance, he forced himself to accept their perspective.
"That miracle—and the punishnt you ted out for it—beca the reason dragonslayer magic exists," Jett confessed, and the patriarch’s eyes flew wide as he lurched to his feet in shock.
Well, he was truly shocked; one mont he sat cross‑legged, the next he snapped upright. Couldn’t bla him. If scholars ever traced dragonslayer magic back to Holdrake and linked it to this clan, every dragon lost to the spell might dump total bla upon the Light Dragons.
Imprisoning or executing Light‑Dragon leaders would be impossible, yet forcing them to export their goods at bargain prices and toil for cheap labor remained entirely plausible through ruthless tariffs or suffocating guild contracts. Such economic shackles hurt worse than chains forged of steel. With an uncharted era approaching, every ounce of leverage and advantage was worth more than gold.
"Excuse ," the old leader murmured, lowering himself back to the mat.
Jett smiled. "No worries."
"How many souls are aware of this?" the elder asked.
"Only the Dragon Guardian and I," Jett confessed. "I might have told the Dragon Empress, but I chose to keep it private."
"My deepest thanks, Lord Warden," the elder said, bowing low. We would far rather be indebted to the Warden than to Her Majesty.
Bad blood already simred between the Light‑Dragon Clan and the Dragon Empress. Though the clan served her diligently, she had dismissed their elders and stripped them of valuable political influence. Years of quiet resentnt had hardened into a brittle distrust. Incurring yet another debt to her would be intolerable.
"How may we assist you, Lord Warden?" the elder asked.
"I ask that your clan be among the first to travel with to the human continent and establish a ho among mortals. Also, welco several humans here in return, a gesture of true cultural exchange. Your cooperation will make it easier for other clans to follow your example and strengthen the bridge between dragons and humans. What was once a lonely miracle must beco commonplace, and I need you to acknowledge that reality. In ti, children of both bloodlines will walk freely between our realms, their very existence proving cooperation is stronger than mistrust. Hard tis lie ahead; I want every race allied in goodwill. The path will not be easy, but I intend to walk it—and I need you beside ."
"Very well," the elder replied after long reflection. "You can count on the Light‑Dragon Clan."
...
"Well done, Master Jett."
"Thanks. Now we can head back to the human continent and brief the others. I doubt everything has stayed quiet, but let’s hope nothing too serious erupted. We still need to reunite with Lulu and Ewelina. Ewelina especially—her kingdom is probably pressuring her to get an audience with , and I can’t let her down."
At the words, Eleonora’s smile blossod. Her master would soon return to the human continent and finish these affairs! He was already halfway done; only negotiations with the Dukes and the grand banquet remained.
Happiness flooded her, and she couldn’t suppress the radiant grin.
"You’re smiling like an idiot," Noctlisa muttered.
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