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As the royal capital, Re-Estize, drew closer, the three mbers of Dragon's Dream began to grow increasingly uneasy.

They had never planned on returning here. Originally, their goal was to travel to the Azerlisia Mountains to find the roots of their family—perhaps the true origin of their lineage hidden sowhere deep within.

However, along the way, they happened to encounter a mysterious young boy who introduced himself as Tite, a being whose divine power and abilities were beyond comprehension. One thing led to another, and they ended up traveling together—eventually reaching the dwarven kingdom built within the Azerlisia range.

But when they arrived, the dwarves were under attack by a horde of monsters called Quagoa, and the group was drawn into the conflict. They accepted a request to help eliminate the creatures, but… the results were strange.

For reasons they could not explain, the Quagoa who had surrounded them vanished as if they were re mirages—leaving behind only molten tunnels, scorched and lted as if dozens of red dragons had rampaged through. Naturally, not a single trace of the Quagoa remained.

Afterward, unable to make sense of the situation, they simply left the mountains. Searching the area was impossible, and with the dwarves in chaos, there was no aid to be found.

In the end, as per the party leader Dean's suggestion, they all decided to continue following the mysterious boy Tite, acting as his guides—even if none of them truly understood why.

...

"Hey, Dean… you really think this is okay?"

"What do you an?"

Colton, unable to hide his restlessness, spoke in a hurried tone. They were now traveling along the main road leading toward the capital. For so reason, Tite was walking far behind, absorbed in the sight of the fields and plains as though seeing them for the first ti—despite the fact they had been looking at the sa scenery for days.

Because of that, they too were forced to slow their pace, their voices kept low.

"Didn't we go to the mountains to find our clan's origin? But we didn't find anything—and now we're just heading back to the capital…"

"You idiot. We already found it."

"Huh?"

Dean frowned. The urge to smack Colton on the back of his head was strong. Over the week since they t Tite, Dean had watched the boy closely—and reached one conclusion.

That boy's divine power was beyond imagination, and his youthful, almost angelic beauty only added to the mystery. Soone like that would have been famous anywhere in the world. Yet, he appeared out of nowhere, unnoticed by anyone, and just happened to et them on their way to the Azerlisia Mountains?

That wasn't coincidence—it couldn't be.

"Huh? I just thought… he's so kind of prodigy, right? Soone with insane divine power. If we brought him to the Theocracy, he'd probably beco soone important real fast. I figured it'd be smart to stay close—you know, might pay off later."

"You brainless fool… is that head of yours just a helt rack?"

"What—hey! What's your problem?"

As Colton flinched and backed away, Dean let out a frustrated sigh and glanced toward Rohaim, who had been silently following behind them.

"Rohaim, what do you think?"

"…Well, I'd say you're right, Dean. That boy must've co from the main family."

"Exactly. You feel it too, don't you?"

"Yes. Otherwise, none of this would make sense."

Rohaim nodded slightly, though his shoulders trembled faintly.

Back in the dwarven city—when Tite had suddenly vanished—and monts later, an overwhelming surge of magic erupted throughout the caverns. It was a scale of power he couldn't begin to grasp, vast enough to make his entire body freeze in terror. Then, after several minutes, Tite reappeared, smiling gently as if nothing had happened, saying he had just gone to the restroom.

At that mont, Rohaim understood why Dean treated the boy with such reverence—almost like worship.

The divine power alone was extraordinary, but the presence of such imnse, transcendent magic as well… there was sothing deeply unsettling behind that calm expression.

A being capable of both supre divinity and imnse magic—surely not human. And their encounter? Too deliberate to be chance.

Rohaim realized then that this "boy" had sought them out.

And if there was any transcendent being capable of finding them in the Azerlisia Mountains—one who might still bear goodwill toward them—then there was only one possible origin.

The source of their great lineage.

The true ancestral house.

The root of their family's power—the one that had guided their patriarchs for generations and welcod chosen adventurers into its fold.

Tite had to be from there.

"And if I had to guess…" Rohaim murmured, "…he's probably one of the sa kind as our forr patriarch."

"Yeah," Dean agreed. "That unfathomable presence we felt from Lord Monkyspanner… I sense the sa from him."

"Really? I can't tell at all…"

"That's why your head's nothing but a helt stand, you dolt."

"Ow! Why'd you hit ?!"

Dean smacked Colton on the head again in frustration, then quietly turned to look behind them.

The black-haired, black-eyed boy trailed after them, gazing absently at the sky, the plains, and the distant mountains with a faint, nostalgic expression. He exuded none of Monkyspanner's crushing charisma or aura of command—yet Dean could feel it.

That sa level of power.

A divine force and mastery over high-tier holy magic strong enough to heal, restore, and empower others to inhuman levels—magic that even the Theocracy itself had never heard of.

Without a doubt, the boy was the sa kind of being as their late patriarch.

Which ant only one thing—this boy was following them not by chance, but for a purpose.

To investigate—or perhaps resolve—the current crisis.

'Otherwise, he'd have no reason to contact us at all…' Dean thought grimly.

Indeed, thinking back—after Lord Monkyspanner's death, their escape from the capital had been too well-tid. Almost as if soone from the main house had already known of the impending danger.

Maybe the "demon" that killed their patriarch hadn't been targeting the kingdom at all.

Maybe its true goal… was the Dragon's Dream family itself.

It wasn't an impossible story… For the past 150 years, Dragon's Dream had built up countless achievents to beco a "Great House."

It was only natural that such success would draw envy and resentnt from others.

Moreover, when necessary, they had involved themselves in secret conflicts — creating grudges along the way.

But what crushed all that opposition was the power of the clan itself.

While today they possessed wealth and influence in abundance, in the beginning, Dragon's Dream had relied entirely on the overwhelming might of its clan head — power capable of breaking the heavens and splitting the earth.

For generations, every head of the family had inherited that sa transcendent strength.

They were beings who didn't seem like they could die — even if you killed them.

And yet, Monkyspanner El Dragon's Dream was assassinated.

Despite his power, no one knew how he died; only his belongings had been thrown back.

It was obvious that sothing in the shadows had been concealed.

In short — it was a matter grave enough for the root of the clan to personally intervene.

"Heading to Re-Estize must be for that reason…

But then, why won't he tell us the truth?"

That question gnawed at Dean's mind.

They were mbers of the clan — they had entered it as children and dedicated their lives to it.

They would gladly take on missions that were sure to end in death if it ant serving their house.

And yet, the boy would not tell them anything.

Why?

No matter what was asked or ordered, they would obey — even if it cost them their lives.

Was it possible the boy suspected they had already been influenced by the enemy?

If so, why bring them along?

Was this surveillance? Or sothing else entirely?

Dean could not stop himself from overthinking.

Should we just enter the capital like this?

Into the clan that's now controlled by an unknown enemy — a place that could very well be a trap?

His anxiety deepened.

Then, he felt a tap on his shoulder.

"What the—?!"

But when he turned, he froze.

It wasn't Rohaim or Colton — it was the boy himself,

Tite, whom they believed had co from the very source of the clan.

He'd been walking far behind them just monts ago — why was he here now?

Startled, Dean quickly composed himself.

"Y–Yes, my lord? Did you need sothing?"

"Oh, no, it's nothing serious."

Tite paused, as if hesitating.

There was an uncharacteristic uncertainty in his expression, which caught Dean's attention.

"I was just wondering — are you really planning to enter the capital like this?"

"Pardon? Didn't you say we were heading for the capital?"

"Ah, yes, I did say that… but entering directly feels… inappropriate. Let's just say I have… other matters to attend to first."

The boy's indecision was rare — and unnerving.

They were practically at the capital's gates now — re hours away.

What could be troubling him at this point?

Dean forced himself to stay patient.

"Whatever it may be, please tell us. We'll follow your will, Lord Tite."

"Oh? Would you really?"

Tite smiled — brightly.

A radiant smile, like a million black roses blooming at once.

His flawless face seed to glow with a divine light, and Dean instinctively flinched.

Even a man like him, who had no family but many lovers, felt montarily entranced by such beauty.

But the next words brought him back to reality.

"The truth is… I have so business with the Dragon's Dream clan you belong to. But due to certain circumstances, I can't enter the capital myself. Could you perhaps contact soone who knows the current situation there?"

"That's… hmm…"

Dean hesitated.

Even now, Tite was concealing his true identity.

He already knew they were mbers of Dragon's Dream — so why pretend otherwise?

Why this charade?

But Dean quickly reasoned with himself.

Every clan head — including the late Monkyspanner — had shared a strange habit of secrecy.

Despite their power and charisma being obvious to anyone, they seldom revealed their full abilities.

Perhaps Tite was the sa.

Satisfied with that thought, Dean nodded.

"It's possible. We don't even need to enter the capital.

Using our ergency communication network, we can contact the clan from here."

"Is that so? That's perfect. Then… could I ask you to do a favor?"

"Ah, yes, but using it here might take a bit of preparation…"

Using an ergency communication scroll required so setup. It wasn't that there were strict limitations—but before exchanging ssages, a secure ritual was needed. A small altar and a magic circle had to be prepared to prevent any unauthorized interception of the Transmission midway.

"Hmm… will it take long?"

"Not really. Just the ti to set up the altar and inscribe the circle. But… may I ask what business you have with our clan?"

"It's nothing serious. I just need to confirm sothing. Hmm… ah, but I suppose you wouldn't easily believe like this."

Tite murmured softly, scratching his head as if troubled. He seed to hesitate, then moved his lips soundlessly—muttering words that could only be guessed as a form of telepathic exchange.

After a few monts, he reached into his coat, rummaging through his belongings, and finally pulled out a small pendant—no larger than his palm.

"If it's hard to believe, I was told to show you this. What do you think?"

"That's…!"

Dean's eyes widened in disbelief.

A dragon roaring toward the heavens—an emblem adorned with gold and gemstones.

He recognized it imdiately.

That was the seal once used by the First Head of the House, a symbol still displayed in the clan's main hall.

It wasn't known for its magical strength, but it was a symbol of authority—used solely by the current head of Dragon's Dream and the one appointed as party leader.

It represented the weight of their position and their belonging to the clan.

A replica? No, impossible.

It was too perfect.

Even the faint aura of magic emanating from it was identical to the real thing.

To confirm, Dean extended a trembling hand toward the pendant.

Tite didn't move away, and Dean carefully touched the emblem and whispered the activation word.

"Manifestation."

—Fwoosh!

A burst of dazzling golden light erupted.

The red gemstone eyes of the dragon engraved on the pendant glead vividly, and monts later, a projection of the sa emblem appeared above the pendant—magnified and radiant.

A dragon with blazing crimson eyes, roaring toward the heavens—

The crest of the Great House of Dragon's Dream.

Dean's eyes welled with tears.

"Ahh…"

"That's…!"

"Wait, that… that's real, isn't it?!"

Rohaim and Colton, who had been watching from behind in stunned silence, gasped aloud—eyes wide with disbelief.

There could be no mistake.

The clan's true crest—no imitation could ever reproduce it.

Even though the emblem only projected the crest, the original artifact was said to have been a divine-tier relic, wielded by the First and successive heads of the house, capable of casting high-tier protective and enhancent magic at will.

There could be no other like it in the world.

If another truly existed, it could only have been forged by the Root of the Clan itself.

Dean dropped to his knees.

The other two quickly followed, kneeling beside him without hesitation.

"...We bow before the Root of our House."

One hundred and fifty years had passed since the founding of the Great House—and just as its ruin lood over the world,

The Root of the Clan had returned.

**************

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