Chapter 114 Father's Love had Won
"Are you willing to surrender your powers to me, for the sake of saving your son?" Wayne asked.
Arman froze. "How could you even do that?" His brow furrowed deeply, eyes wide and searching beneath the fabric of his blindfold.
"Let's just say I’ve laid hands on a certain kind of magic," Wayne replied vaguely. Arman’s mind raced, unable to grasp the mechanics of the betrayal.
"I would give my life for my son... but my powers? Why do you need them?"
"Why would I tell you everything?" Wayne retorted, his voice sharp.
"You already possess divine strength," Arman pressed, his confusion turning to dread. "Why mine? They are useless to you... unless..." Arman paused, the air in the cell growing cold. "Have you found the Golden Dragon?"
The smirk on Wayne’s face was invisible to the blindfolded man, but the shift in tension was undeniable. "Maybe I have," Wayne murmured, playing with his prey. "Now, decide. Your life, or your son’s?"
Wayne leaned in closer. "Your life here is worthless. You’ll be shackled in this filth forever. Give them to me, and your son walks free."
At the mention of his son’s freedom, Arman’s eyes glowed with a sudden, fierce ambition. "Are you certain?"
"Yes," Wayne replied.
With tears dampening the blindfold, Arman bowed his head. A father’s love had won. "Take them. Take it all," he whispered.
As a sharp smirk mirrored across both their lips, Wayne and Raymond dragged him from the cell. For the first time in decades, Arman tried to find his footing. His legs buckled; his bones groaned and cracked like dry parchment as he moved.
"Get him," Wayne hissed, as they hoisted Arman’s weight between them. They moved through the castle hallways in a strained silence, desperate to keep their secret—completely oblivious that Esperanza was just around the corner.
"Careful with him," Raymond grunted, his voice strained and oppressed. "If he slumps any further, we’ll be dragging him by his hair. And he’s too valuable to lose now."
"He means everything to the Obsidian," Wayne hissed back, his face reddening as he put his full strength into uplifting the broken man. "He’s our leverage. Our weapon."
But Arman’s body had forgotten the mechanics of life. His feet trailed behind him, the toes of his boots scuffing uselessly against the uneven stone. His head hung low, a curtain of matted hair hiding the blindfold that had been his only reality for years.
Further down the hall, the sound of frantic footsteps echoed. Esperanza was running, her breath coming in ragged gasps, her mind a whirlwind of confusion and burgeoning fury. She turned a sharp corner too fast; her boot caught on a protruding stone, and she went down hard.
As she pushed herself up, palms stinging from the grit, she looked up—and froze.
There they were. Wayne and Raymond, the men she had trusted, or at least tolerated, were dragging a living corpse toward the secondary exits.
"Where are you taking him?" she demanded. Her voice didn't just carry; it vibrated against the stone walls.
The two men jerked to a halt. Arman, even in his stupor, seemed to flinch at the sound of her voice. It was a frequency he recognized from his fever dreams.
"Esperanza!" Wayne gulped, his throat working visibly. He forced a tight, oily smile that didn't reach his eyes. "What are you doing in this sector? This isn't a place for... well, for you."
"What do I look like I'm doing?" she snapped, standing tall, her silhouette casting a long, sharp shadow. She stared at the 'monster' they held. He looked less like a beast and more like a ruined king. "I asked you a question. Where are you taking him?"
"He’s been compromised," Raymond said quickly, trying to conceal the desperation in his tone. "Too many people have seen him. We need to hide him elsewhere before word gets out to the Council."
But their smiles were too wide, their eyes too shifty. They weren't hiding a prisoner; they were stealing a prize.
From the depths of his haze, Arman’s cracked lips moved. A sound like dry leaves skittering on pavement emerged.
"Who... are you?" he whispered, his voice quivering with a terrifying fragility. "I have heard you... in the silence. Your voice... it tastes like sunlight."
"How dare you talk to her!" Wayne’s face twisted into a mask of pure rage. He shook Arman violently, a cruel display of power over a man who couldn't even stand. "Keep your tongue behind your teeth, beast!"
"Let him go," Esperanza said. The temperature in the hallway seemed to drop ten degrees. "You will take him back to his chambers immediately. He is no longer your concern. He is my responsibility."
Wayne let out a sharp, incredulous laugh, though it sounded forced. "Your responsibility? Esperanza, I have spent half a lifetime poisoning this creature to keep him manageable. I have bled for the Obsidian to keep him caged. You don't know what you're asking."
"I am not asking," she said.
She took a step forward. With every inch she moved, the flickering torches along the walls flared with a sudden, brilliant gold light. The air grew thick, charged with the static of an impending storm.
"I am the Golden Dragon," she thundered, her voice resonating with an ancient, terrifying power that made the very foundations of the prison groan. "And I am commanding you to stand down now!"
The effect was instantaneous. Underneath the tattered blindfold, Arman’s eyes ignited. A fierce, molten gold glow bled through the fabric, illuminating the hollows of his face.
"The Golden Dragon..." Arman breathed, his body suddenly jolting as if struck by lightning.
His staggering expression shifted from despair to a harrowing, beautiful awe.
Wayne and Raymond stumbled back, their hands slipping from Arman’s shoulders. They felt the shift in the air the sudden, crushing weight of a True Sovereign.
The "monster" they had been dragging was no longer heavy; it was as if the ground itself was beginning to tremble in his presence, answering the call of the Dragon