Dragon King: Throne of Demons and Gods
Chapter 139: A Wolf Dressed in Wool

Chapter 139: A Wolf Dressed in Wool

Crest froze.

The soft glow of the Starling Mirror trembled in his hands, but his whole body had turned cold.

Will’s sobs on the other end of the mirror were the only sound in the room, a wet, broken rhythm that cut into Crest’s mind.

He opened his mouth, his voice barely leaving his throat.

"Elysia... What are you saying, Will?" he asked, but it wasn’t a question. It was a plea.

Will kept crying. His sobs hit harder now, like he could barely hold himself together. And then, finally, through the broken gasps, he choked out the words.

"Why didn’t you tell me...? Why didn’t you say anything, Crest? Why didn’t you warn me it would be like this...?"

Crest blinked, stunned. The words made no sense. He gripped the Starling Mirror tightly, his breath caught halfway in his throat.

"What...? Will, what are you talking about?" he whispered. "She’s alive. Elysia—she’s alive. She was just with me. Yesterday. This morning. I saw her, I talked to her. She’s with us."

His voice broke on the last word. He tried to ground himself in the truth he knew.

"She was there, Will. I swear, she was right there. How can she be dead? That doesn’t make sense."

His pulse was racing. Each beat pounded like a drum in his ears, drowning out every logical thought. Will looked up, face trembling with fear and sorrow. He shook his head, desperate.

"No, no, Crest, listen to me... I saw her. I saw her body! I saw her face! It was her... her pendant, her armor, her scars... I know what I saw. She’s dead. All this time... she was already dead."

A chill ran down Crest’s spine. His thoughts spun in circles, slamming into each other, failing to make sense of what he just heard.

"No," Crest whispered. "No, she’s not. She’s with us—she’s with Dusteria right now, looking for her father. She’s fine. She’s right there..."

Will froze. The air between them on the call seemed to collapse.

His face changed, from grief to pure horror.

"No," he said, almost choking. "No, no, no, Crest, you don’t understand. Listen to me, I’m serious! That’s not her. That’s NOT her, Crest! Elysia is DEAD!"

He lunged toward the mirror, his face inches away, his panic spilling through the glass.

"That thing you’re with—that isn’t her! It’s not Elysia! You have to go! Find Dusteria NOW! She’s in danger! That thing is a demon!"

Crest couldn’t breathe. The air in the room vanished. His pulse was pounding in his ears, louder than Will’s cries, louder than anything else.

On the ground, the Baron muttered, his voice fragile, caught between fear and madness.

"She cornered me... I didn’t do anything wrong... I never asked to hold the treasure. I didn’t ask... I’m poor. I’m innocent..."

Dusteria knelt beside him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. He barely reacted.

"Father... It’s okay now. You’re safe. I found you. We’ll go back together, alright?"

But he kept muttering, rocking slightly.

"I never wanted it. I never wanted any of it... please... please..."

She tried to pull him closer, stroking his hair and whispering comfort. To her, he was simply broken by fear, a man who had survived too much and seen too much.

But what she couldn’t see was the desperation in his eyes, not for her but for the figure standing behind her.

Elysia stood quietly. Her expression soft and sad.

Elsewhere, Aurus sprinted down the cobbled streets, guards racing behind him. His mind raced even faster.

He remembered that meeting, Elysia asking too many careful questions. About how easily a demon could hide. The spark in her eyes when she was told it was impossible. He remembered Midas’s trick, using Lloyd’s face. And Logan’s final report on Darwin: something about the bar with a bunch of nobodies.

Demons hiding in human skin.

The clues had been there all along. And now, he understood. She had them... from the beginning.

"It’ll be okay," Dusteria repeated. "You’re with me now. We’ll go home, we’ll be alright..."

"No," Elysia murmured behind her. "It won’t be okay anymore. He’s beyond understanding."

Dusteria turned slightly, frowning.

"Leave us alone, Elysia. I found him. I don’t need an audience."

"Girl, save your breath," Elysia said calmly. "A broken tool tells no lie."

The Baron shook harder.

"Please... please..."

"Stop it," Dusteria said, gritting her teeth, holding him tighter.

But behind her, the air changed. The warmth of the sun dimmed, the wind picked up cold from nowhere.

The light around Elysia shifted, her features dimming, her eyes beginning to shimmer with unnatural gleam.

A low voice rang out behind Dusteria.

"Two toys broke on the same day. Now, I must give purpose to one of them."

Dusteria froze. Her eyes widened in horror.

That voice.

That way of speaking.

The Baron began to tremble uncontrollably.

The wind blew across her neck like a whisper.

"Don’t look back," the voice continued. "You never look back. That’s when the monster moves."

But the breath on Dusteria’s neck chilled her to her bones. Her heart pounded like a drum. Her hands tightened on her father’s shoulders.

Then...

"But if you keep your back turned... you’re giving an invitation to the predator stalking you."

Her body acted before her mind. Slowly, with every ounce of will, Dusteria turned.

And there she was.

The woman.

The demon who attacked their manor. Who awakened Bel.

Inches from her face.

"So," the demon whispered. "You wish for a monster?"

She grinned.

"So be it."

Her jaw cracked, widening unnaturally. Skin tore at the cheeks. Rows of jagged teeth unfurled in impossible layers, her human face melting into a nightmare.

The city was moving.

Word spread like fire among the adventurers: another demon was among them.

Guards shouted, adventurers gathered, people ran, and everywhere panic bloomed like sickness.

Screams echoed down streets that only hours ago were lined with mourning. Mothers grabbed their children, knights armed themselves, and the civilians who had stayed behind to help now wished they’d left.

But for Crest, the noise was nonexistent. He heard nothing.

His feet pounded the cobblestones, his breath ragged and sharp. The world tunneled around him as he ran. Only one thing mattered. Only one thought held his mind together.

Dusteria.

He saw them again, two children under the blue sky. Her arms crossed, pouty, but always watching him with that secret sweetness. Their pinky fingers tied together in a vow of marriage. She was tough, brave, and the kindest person he’d known.

He remembered Sienna’s voice: "You should be more honest with your friends."

He remembered Dusteria crying.

And now he was running, far too late. Why had he waited until now? Why had he been so blind? So stupid?

He begged anything that would listen. Let her be safe. Let him see her again.

Then he heard it.

A scream tore through the city like lightning.

Crest stopped. His blood turned cold.

No. No, please.

He turned toward the scream and sprinted, his legs moving before he could think, his vision blurry.

Other people were running too, pulled by the cry. A wave of knights and adventurers followed the sound.

They gathered on the same street.

When Crest arrived, everyone had already frozen.

A wall of stunned people blocked his view, their bodies stiff, silent, too horrified to speak. He pushed through them with trembling hands, heart pounding in his ears. Then he saw.

Elysia stood, back turned to the crowd, calm and immobile.

At her feet, Dusteria.

Her body was covered in wounds, deep and savage like the aftermath of a wild beast’s attack.

Her clothes were ripped apart, blood staining each piece and seeping into the street below.

Her pink hair clung to her face in sticky strands, streaked with red.

She lay there, immobile, breathing shallowly, if at all.

And in front of her, kneeling and frozen, was the Baron. His mouth hung open in shock.

Tears streamed down his face, but he was too far gone to make a sound.

Elysia lifted a finger, slow and dainty, brushing her lips. When she pulled it away, blood glistened.

"Hmm," she said, her voice light but twisted. "Still a little too raw. A bitter sacrifice..." She tilted her head, eyes glinting, and looked at the Baron. "But thanks to that... Yours..." she purred, gazing at the Baron. "Yours will be velvet soon enough."

Crest shook. He felt it in his chest, in his bones. He whispered.

"Elysia..."

Everyone remained frozen. Weapons were gripped tight, but no one dared move. Fear was thick in the air, clinging to their skin.

Elysia raised her head slowly.

"Ah... yes," she mused. "That’s the name I wear here. Elysia. But I won’t need it anymore."

A soft, strange laugh escaped her. She turned slightly, just enough for them to see the curve of her cheek.

"Can’t you recognize me, Crest?"

He looked from her to Dusteria, then back. His lips trembled. His eyes burned.

He stepped forward, but an adventurer grabbed his arm.

"Don’t," the man said, voice cracking.

Elysia chuckled again. The sound made everyone flinch.

Then she turned fully.

Her face was drenched in blood.

Dusteria’s blood.

Gasps filled the air. Some people staggered back.

She licked the corner of her mouth, then smiled wider than humanly possible.

"Do you want to understand? It’s easy," she asked. "What is a name that isn’t a name... and the name of a killer dressed in wool?"

No one answered. They couldn’t.

They trembled.

Crest clenched his fists, teeth gritted.

Her eyes flicked to him. She leaned forward, her grin widening.

"The answer," she said sweetly, "is written in the deepest part of your flesh."

She stepped over Dusteria’s body.

- Crimson Bloom.