Dragon's Awakening: The Duke's Son Is Changing The Plot
Chapter 196 - 195 - Mistress is back.

Chapter 196: Chapter 195 - Mistress is back.

Selena awoke with a rasping breath.

The air was thick—cloying, sulfuric, and heavy enough to crush her lungs from the inside.

Her limbs felt limp, her head a fog of pain and residual poison.

Her vision blurred, but even so, she knew this wasn’t the palace. It wasn’t any place she had ever seen.

She was sitting—no, dropped—on polished obsidian.

A massive circular chamber loomed around her, carved from black volcanic stone and veined with glowing cracks of red.

Lava pulsed somewhere below, casting hellish light upward, and from above, there was nothing—only darkness.

A void that stared back.

Five thrones stood before her. Each one was grotesque, monumental, and entirely wrong.

She didn’t know who they were, but she was sure they were powerful—more than she could handle.

She didn’t know how right she was, as the ones before her were the Five Eyes of the Deep.

All of them were general-class demons.

Her breath caught in her throat merely because they were watching her.

The first, seated farthest left, was nearly human.

It was Lirus, the Blood Prophet. He was young and slight, blindfolded with a cloth that wept crimson.

His pale hands dripped with something thick, and he was constantly whispering in a voice not meant for sanity—words that pulsed through her ears like needles.

Next was Mala, the Corpse Queen.

She was like a mountain of bloated flesh and dismembered beauty. Male and female. Old and young. Every part of her body was stitched from others.

She was stroking someone’s scalp like a pet cat, and Selena knew that head was real. The teeth she smiled with? Freshly stolen.

Krall, the Whispering Maw, was faceless.

No eyes. No head. Just a swirling spiral of mouths, each one gnawing, muttering secrets in whispers so perfectly timed that it echoed Selena’s own fleeting thoughts before she even had them.

Veyron, the Bone Architect, clicked constantly with every twitch—a living cathedral of skeletal pieces woven into wings and blades.

A single femur fell off his arm and reattached itself as a shin. The skull on his chest chattered without pause.

Then, finally, at the center was the one who made her feel the worst.

Just looking at him made her heart sink.

He was Theon, the Heartless Flame.

His throne was fire, his presence absent.

A golden mask stared down at her, hollow and lit from within with eternal flame—but there was nothing behind it.

No aura. No emotion. No presence. Just a terrifying, burning emptiness that dared the soul to look in and come undone.

Selena couldn’t move.

Not out of fear.

Not entirely.

But because every nerve in her body had started screaming.

They weren’t here for her—she knew that.

She wasn’t someone important enough to move such powerful beings.

They were here for Mistress.

To trace her. To use Selena as bait, as a compass, as a link.

The problem was that despite having a link with Mistress—a contract—she hadn’t been able to talk to the demoness for some time.

From the moment she was poisoned, she had been trying to call out to Mistress to no avail.

"She’s here," came the first voice.

It was Theon, and it wasn’t a voice—it was a dry wind. Words that carried like embers on ash.

"But only a shade," Krall whispered, his mouths gnawing.

"Open her up," Mala said, licking her stolen lips. "Crack her mind. Gut her soul. Pull the succubus out piece by piece."

"No," Lirus muttered, quieter than the rest, as if to himself. "She’ll come... if she wants to."

Selena tried to back away. Her arms barely moved. Her chest felt like iron had been poured into her lungs.

’Mistress...’ She called out desperately.

No answer.

"Mistress, please—say something—"

Her own voice broke. Tears threatened to fall.

She didn’t pray for Raven. Not because she didn’t think he would be of any help but because she wasn’t sure if he could come.

The five demons watched her like dissecting surgeons awaiting permission to carve.

Then—

"Oh honey," a voice whispered in her mind, silk-wrapped and full of mischief, "you really let things get out of hand, didn’t you?"

Selena’s eyes widened.

Mistress.

"My bad. Things had been tense in the demon realm, so I couldn’t come, but now, I’m here. Give me control. One minute. That’s all I can manage before the backlash hits. I’ll make it worth your while, darling."

Selena didn’t hesitate.

’Take it,’ she said.

The transformation was instant.

A pulse echoed from her heart, a thump like the drum of war.

Her skin shimmered, and her blue eyes flooded into deep, shimmering violet. Her silver hair rippled like water—then turned vibrant amethyst, trailing magic like smoke.

The girl on the floor vanished.

In her place stood a queen.

Succubus. Demon. Mistress.

Mistress stepped forward—and the thrones reacted. 𝙛𝒓𝓮𝙚𝔀𝒆𝒃𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝒐𝒎

Mala hissed, rising with a twitch. Veyron’s bones screamed. Krall convulsed, his mouths shrieking words of old betrayal.

Even Theon stirred.

"She’s here," Krall murmured. "The traitor. The exile."

"I’m flattered," Mistress said sweetly, placing one hand on her hip. "But honestly, I expected more candles. Maybe a welcome cake?"

Then she turned to one of them.

Lirus.

The Blood Prophet had not moved.

Mistress tilted her head.

"It’s time."

Lirus’s breath hitched.

Then slowly and reverently... he smiled.

"A-And so the threads return to the loom," he whispered. "My eyes have wept for this moment."

The others turned to him in fury.

"Lirus—!" Snarled Mala, but Lirus raised one hand, red-stained and calm.

"I knew," he said softly. "I’ve always known. From the moment her soul brushed against mine. I was hers. Not yours. You all serve what you fear. I served what I loved."

Mala shrieked.

Veyron’s bones exploded outward, forming spears.

Krall lunged.

Lirus moved first.

His hand slammed to the ground—and the blood answered.

A burst of red energy exploded outward in a perfect circle. Barriers formed in mid-air—crimson glyphs and binding spells so complex they moved like gears.

"Go," he whispered to Mistress. "My clone knows the way. It won’t fade. Even if I do."

Mistress looked at him—for a moment, there was no teasing, no laughter, just a nod.

Lirus turned to the others.

"Every one of us serves something. I just turned out to be loyal to someone you all wanted dead."

Theon rose.

The fire behind his mask swirled into a vortex.

"You will not leave," he said.

"I know," Lirus replied gently. "That was never part of the plan."

His clone emerged from the blood behind him, a mirror version, glowing and already moving toward Mistress.

Then, he spread his arms wide.

"Glory to the throne," he whispered.

The moment he did, the room erupted with blood.

Mistress vanished in a blink with the clone—through the cracks, through the stone, into the tunnels below, carrying the one precious thing those monsters feared more than any god.

It was Hope.

What everyone failed to notice was a blob of blood had already left the room before anyone moved.

When everyone’s focus was on Selena’s transformation, Lirus had sent it out.

Now, it was moving past any and every chamber it came across, slowly morphing into Lirus’s shape.

It was another clone.

"I must ensure her safety," the clone muttered before it reached a door.

The huge, iron door with beastly scriptures was right above his head, pulsing with energy.

Lirus stared at the door as if he could look past it.

..................................

Meanwhile, above the door.

Crisaius stood on a mossy hill, both arms crossed as twin swords rattled impatiently on his back.

His wild white hair looked like it had been electrocuted, and his eyes gleamed with suspicion.

"...Trees," he muttered.

Argon stood beside him, silent, arms folded.

His long coat fluttered with the breeze, and the absurdly massive sword strapped to his back gleamed faintly under the sunlight.

"Raven said coordinates, didn’t he?" Crisaius asked. "Exact location. Demon hideout. Super-secret base. Lava and stuff."

He turned in a slow, sarcastic circle.

"Well, congratulations! We’ve found the Forest of Mild Disappointment."

Argon didn’t move.

"Maybe he was lied to," Crisaius continued, voice rising. "Maybe that ’good demon’ was gaslighting him! I knew it! I knew there’s no such thing as a good—"

He stomped the ground with a crackling aura—expecting a tremor, a split, a cool explosion.

Instead... thud.

The ground didn’t crack.

It trembled. Just slightly. A deep, hollow thunk echoed below their feet.

"...Huh," Crisaius blinked.

Argon finally spoke, low and calm. "That didn’t sound right."

"Yeah..." Crisaius crouched, pressed his palm flat to the soil, and punched it with power. Hollow.

He turned his head. "You thinking what I’m thinking?"

Argon gave a rare nod.

Crisaius grinned.

In the next second, both exploded with aura—Crisaius’ blades shimmering as his muscles bulged unnaturally, veins glowing white-blue. Argon’s eyes lit up with red intensity, his massive sword already in hand, humming with power.

They struck at once.

But before their attacks could land—

The ground sank.

Like a door.

With a deep, grinding groan, the moss and dirt peeled inward like a lid sliding away—revealing a circular stone stairway descending into darkness.

"...That’s not suspicious at all," Crisaius muttered.

They landed without a word.

Someone stood at the bottom. A young man. Pale. Crimson eyes.

Crisaius didn’t hesitate.

"Demon," he growled, vanishing.

Lirus’s clone barely blinked before his head flew clean off, spinning once before hitting the stone.

Argon remained poised beside him, sword halfway through a second strike.

The head rolled once, and then it stopped. Its mouth moved.

"Go straight... You’ll find the Five."

Crisaius paused, raising a brow. "Wait, what?"

The head chuckled softly. "You’ll find the generals. She escaped. I was... just ensuring her path."

Argon narrowed his eyes. "You’re not with them."

"No," Lirus’s voice said faintly. "I merely didn’t want to destroy someone else’s home."

Crisaius scratched his wild hair, sheathing his blades with a click. "You mean to tell me... there are good demons?"

Lirus’s fading clone gave one last smile. "Not good. Just... tired of being monsters."

The head dissolved into red mist.

The two men stood in silence.

Then Crisaius sighed, and then he turned toward Argon. "I don’t want this to reach Raven’s ears, or he would milk this forever."

With that, every player was now in the game.