The Exiled Duke's Lottery system

Chapter 222: Chapter 215 — The Dragon’s Bottom Line

Eight days remained before the ninety-day industrial review.

Two years and 283 days remained before the compulsory quest deadline.

Cedric’s message reached Lucien shortly after midnight.

It was brief, precise, and considerably worse for both qualities.

A sabotage network had been traced from Titanworks to Skyforge. Ten infiltrators, including an internal supply contact, had been captured alive. All ten died before interrogation when concealed magical failsafes triggered.

The enemy possessed restricted engine diagrams, access routes, transport schedules, and the intended window for Skyforge’s first ascent.

Cedric requested Lucien’s immediate presence.

Lucien read the message twice, then sent three summons.

Gandalf arrived first, carrying a reinforced case filled with diagnostic crystals, sealing frames, and enough warding material to isolate an infected workshop. Maerath followed with several Runesilver instruments designed to preserve fading magical traces.

Aurethar came last.

The golden dragon descended beyond the residence walls with enough restraint that the paving stones stayed intact, though the guards nearby still took several careful steps back. Under ordinary circumstances, he would have objected to being summoned before dawn, or asked which priceless possession Elarion intended to borrow without admitting it.

This time, he said nothing.

Lucien met them inside the secure council chamber and passed Cedric’s report across the table.

Gandalf’s expression tightened first.

"Ten synchronized deaths suggest linked execution seals."

"Or individual seals tied into one higher control pattern," Maerath said. "If the trigger came through the network, the caster may have left a surviving connection."

Lucien looked toward Aurethar.

The dragon’s eyes had stopped at the paragraph describing the attempted sabotage of the blimp’s upper seam anchors.

He said nothing for long enough that the room changed around him.

"Espionage is ordinary," Aurethar said at last. "Kingdoms spy, lie, bribe, and steal because honesty makes diplomacy unbearably slow."

Maerath waited.

Aurethar lifted his head.

"But they entered land protected under my name. They targeted work I chose to support, fitted their own agents with execution bindings, and believed they could strike here, erase the path behind them, and leave without consequence."

There was no humor in his voice now.

"They mistook restraint for absence."

Gandalf studied him carefully.

"You recognize the method?"

"The philosophy behind it. Whoever arranged this values secrecy more than the lives carrying it."

"That still leaves too many possibilities," Maerath said.

"Yes," Aurethar replied. "Which is why we will stop guessing."

They left before dawn.

Lucien, Malen, Gandalf, and Maerath traveled by rail with a small escort. Aurethar followed above the train, his golden form appearing between clouds whenever the sky cleared.

During the journey, Maerath kept glancing toward the dark windows.

"The residue may be gone before we arrive."

Aurethar’s voice came through the communication set linked to him.

"Ordinary traces fade."

Lucien glanced at the device.

"And these?"

"They will discover I am less accommodating."

Maerath leaned toward the set.

"What did you bring?"

A brief silence followed.

"You have all become far too comfortable asking what’s inside my hoard."

"That’s because the answer is usually useful."

"The answer is usually expensive too."

Skyforge was under emergency security when they arrived.

Freight had been halted outside the restricted yards. Guards checked identities at every internal gate while mages examined access marks and officers compared faces to papers. The two Vulcan gun cores delivered from Titanworks sat sealed beside the siding, their targeting components undergoing another inspection.

Cedric met them outside the command building, looking exhausted — though anger had kept his posture steadier than sleep would have.

His gaze moved to Aurethar.

"You came."

Aurethar studied him.

"You captured ten spies alive."

"For several minutes."

"Then show me what killed them."

Cedric didn’t defend himself. He led them into the preserved holding chambers.

The dead infiltrators remained separated behind containment fields. The visible marks had faded, but Gandalf began tracing disturbed mana pathways while Maerath set Runesilver frames around the cleanest remains.

The work was slow and unpleasant.

Gandalf found the first concealed pattern buried beneath an ordinary mana channel near one prisoner’s collar.

Maerath found another threaded through the residue of an old scar.

"They carried individual seals," Gandalf said, "but the seals didn’t act alone."

Maerath adjusted a frame. Thin silver lines gathered around a dark point suspended above the body.

"All ten were tied to something higher."

Cedric stood beside Lucien.

"The trigger?"

"Restraint, interrogation pressure, or a linked command," Gandalf said. "Possibly several conditions together."

"And the source?"

Maerath watched the dark point tremble.

"There’s still a connection."

Cedric’s gaze sharpened.

"Can you follow it?"

"Not with these instruments." The trace flickered. "It’ll collapse within minutes."

Aurethar opened one of his storage rings.

The pressure in the chamber changed. Even Maerath stopped talking.

The dragon withdrew a circular artifact wrapped in pale chains. Its frame was black, and several golden rings revolved slowly around a central crystal that reflected distant landscapes instead of the room.

Gandalf stepped closer despite himself.

"The World-Seeker Compass."

Cedric looked between them.

"You know it?"

"Most rulers know the stories," Gandalf said. "Hidden fortresses, sealed bloodlines, fugitives behind dimensional barriers. None stayed hidden after this found their trail."

Aurethar set the artifact beside the containment field.

Cedric asked, "Why do you carry something like that?"

"Because losing it would be irresponsible."

Maerath’s eyes stayed on the rotating rings.

"That’s not the only reason."

"No. I also enjoy owning what frightens empires, personal hobby."

Aurethar broke one of the pale chains.

The compass woke.

Its golden needle spun so fast it became a ring of light. The outer bands turned in opposite directions, pausing and reversing whenever they hit a false path.

Maerath guided the preserved residue toward the central crystal.

The artifact shuddered. Images flashed within it.

A service tunnel.

A sealed room.

A rail junction.

A distant black structure that vanished before anyone could study it.

Cedric leaned closer.

"Relays."

"Several," Gandalf said.

The primary needle slowed and snapped toward the western wall. A second needle emerged beneath it and pointed north. A third turned without settling.

Aurethar’s gaze hardened.

"False anchors."

The crystal darkened. The trace inside Maerath’s frame began to collapse.

"Someone’s cutting the connection from the far side," Maerath said.

Aurethar looked at the dying thread.

"They noticed."

He opened another storage ring. This time, even Gandalf stepped back before the artifact even appeared.

Aurethar withdrew a small hourglass of silver-black metal. It held only a single luminous grain, hanging motionless between the chambers.

Gandalf’s voice dropped.

"That can’t be real."

Aurethar looked at him.

"No. I brought a decorative copy to a murder investigation."

Cedric’s attention fixed on the hourglass.

"What does it do?"

"The Stillness of the First Hour," Gandalf said. "It freezes time."

"Briefly," Aurethar corrected. "Within a limited boundary. The larger the area, the shorter the stillness. It cannot restore what’s already vanished, reverse death, or be used again soon."

Cedric looked toward the fading trace.

"But it can stop this from disappearing."

"And stop whoever is destroying it."

Aurethar set the hourglass beside the containment field.

The luminous grain moved once.

Time stopped inside the chamber.

Dust hung above the floor. The dark magical thread froze halfway through collapse. The World-Seeker Compass halted mid-turn, its golden rings suspended at different angles.

Outside the boundary nothing changed but inside it was a different story.

Aurethar stood at the edge of the frozen zone and extended one claw through a narrow distortion in the air. Gandalf and Maerath worked beside him, stabilizing the trace through the small opening without ever entering the stillness.

The third needle steadied. One false anchor disappeared. Then another.

The central crystal cleared, revealing a chain of linked points.

The nearest lay somewhere along Elarion’s military freight network. A second rested beyond the border. Farther still, a darker presence hid beneath layers of concealment and corruption.

Maerath’s expression changed.

"Demonic influence."

"Close to the path," Gandalf said. "Perhaps not the source, but close enough to stain it."

Cedric memorized the nearest point.

"Can the compass narrow the relay further?"

A fine crack appeared across one of the outer golden rings.

Aurethar’s eyes narrowed.

"Yes."

Cedric glanced at the fracture.

"But?"

"It would become an exceedingly expensive answer."

"We have enough," Cedric said.

Aurethar released the hourglass.

Time resumed. Dust fell. The execution traces vanished instantly, but their direction stayed recorded inside the compass crystal.

The luminous grain within the hourglass dimmed until barely visible.

Maerath stared at both artifacts with undisguised fascination.

Aurethar covered them with one claw.

"Don’t."

"I said nothing."

"Your face has become acquisitive."

Gandalf said, "It often does near ancient artifacts."

"And people continue asking why dragons prefer locked vaults."

Cedric had already moved toward the map table.

"The nearest relay lies along the freight network."

Aurethar lowered his head.

"This time, don’t catch the hands until they lead you to the throat and do not spare anyone."

Cedric met his gaze.

"That was the plan last time."

"Then improve the ending."

Aurethar closed the artifacts inside his storage ring then looked at everyone.

"Generous of you to let me keep my own possessions."

Lucien glanced at him.

"If the world learns you deployed them for Elarion, allies and enemies will both react."

"Let them."

"After we know where to aim that reaction."

Aurethar looked toward the relay marked on Cedric’s map.

"They touched what was under my protection."

The gold in his eyes seemed colder than the dawn outside.

"Now distance is the only mercy they have left."

The enemy had silenced its agents to protect the path behind them.

Aurethar had frozen the silence — and found where it led.