Lukas made quick work of everyone in the underground floors, barely hesitating as he took one life after another. They barely had time to cast any spells and if they did, none could put a scratch on them.
He thought he'd feel guilt at taking not only one life but many, especially in such gruesome fashion. The only thing that he could think of was getting rid of these people and that was what he did.
The guards of the House of Fortune attacked him with spells, weapons, anything that they thought could kill him.
The elements seemed to simply sink into his skin, his humanoid appearance flickering as scales appeared; they glowed as the magical energy was absorbed into the iridescent plates along his body.
It was over in a matter of minutes.
Standing amidst the wreckage, Lukas finally understood the terrifying truth—not just about the cruelty of men, but about the raw, overwhelmingpower of dragons.
His breathing slowed, the blood on his hands drying into a crusted second skin, and he stared at the ruin he'd wrought with little more than instinct and fury. He had not even thought about fighting technique or accuracy of his magical spells through the Divinity of the Seas. He had just acted on the rage that had washed over him at the sight of the red dragon's suffering.
These people—these humans—had thought themselves untouchable, hidden behind money, magic, and masks. But none of it had mattered. Not their spells. Not their titles. Not even their numbers.
Against a dragon's wrath, they were nothing.
His rage had split through stone, flesh, and spirit alike. This wasn't just vengeance: it was dominance, a reminder etched in blood and fire that dragons were not myths to be auctioned or tamed.
Lukas still couldn't wrap his head around how the dragons had lost the Great War against the Kingdoms of Humanity, even after all that he'd been told about it. But he knew why.
He just hoped Selene was right when she promised him that the one these humans worshipped lay dormant beneath the depths of the ocean floor, in eternal slumber.
The underground levels of the House of Fortunes had been utterly destroyed. There were severed limbs and mangled torsos strewn across the once-grand lobby like discarded meat in a butcher's shop.
Screams had long since faded into a grotesque silence, broken only by the soft weeping of freed slaves and the low crackle of damaged chandeliers still sparking from the chaos.
Lukas stood in the center of it all, his chest heaving, blood dripping from his claws and coating his tattered cloak in a thick, clotted crimson.
He had spared no one—noble or servant, mage or merchant—except one.
Mister Rabbit, the silver-tongued host now trembling and kneeling in a pool of piss and blood, his mask askew and his cheerful tone lost to pure, unfiltered terror.
At the base of the marble staircase, the Kraken stood unmoving—his tentacles twitching, his eyes blank, yet terrifyingly alert. None had passed him. He'd positioned himself there to prevent anyone from escaping to the upper levels of the House of Fortune.
The stairs behind him were stained with the red blood and black ink of those who had tried fleeing for their lives.
Just because Lukas had beaten the beast did not diminish the Kraken's strength in his own right.
Lukas stepped through the slaughter, quiet now, as he approached the unconscious girl who seemed to have transformed back into her human form. She was small, frail—but her skin was marked with old whip scars, branding sigils, and fresh welts.
Using the Draconic Flow in such a weakened state had taken too much out of her.
It took him a bit but Lukas found and emptied several priceless healing potions that were to be sold at the auction that night into her wounds—each one glowing gold, bubbling with intense magic.
The liquid hissed as it touched her skin, sealing bone and tissue, but the burns and scars ran deep. She stirred slightly, her breathing easing.
Lukas brushed a lock of blood-matted hair from her face. He should have felt more at ease now that he knew she would make it out here okay but there was one thing that bothered him. When he turned to the Kraken, his mind touching his to confirm what he had thought to be true, he felt even more discomforted.
The man in the red robes, donning the fox mask, was gone. Lukas did not remember dealing with the guards that accompanied him either. A quick scan among the fallen and he saw that the man had disappeared without a trace.
No blood trail. No corpse. No sign.
And that absence unsettled him more than all the carnage around him.
The halls echoed with the sound of footsteps as Lukas and the Kraken moved through the ruin they had left behind, their pace slow but purposeful.
The once-vibrant underground auction now resembled a warzone—a twisted mockery of opulence soaked in blood and soot.
Cages were bent, chains shattered, and collars discarded on the floor all around them. Soon, all of the slaves that had been in the House's captivity were freed. One by one, he knelt by the captives, some still clutching their knees in fear, others staring in disbelief at the slaughter that had liberated them.
"You're free now," he said, over and over again, his voice a deep, soothing rumble amidst the chaos. "No one owns you. Not anymore." He spoke through his mouth and his mind, his message being understood by the creatures who did not speak the human tongue.
Some didn't even know how to stand. Others sobbed in relief, falling to his feet, begging to serve him, unable to comprehend the idea of a life beyond obedience. Lukas gently refused their worship but promised to keep them safe for the time being. To nurse them back to mental and physical health, to a level where they were able to live out a life that they wished to live. For those who wished to go their own way, he made it clear they could—but almost none of them did. Even the trolls and goblins who Lukas thought would have left decided quickly they did not wish to leave the one who had freed them from their cages, rid them of their chains.
The years had broken their will, and now Lukas was the only one they trusted.
While he reassured the slaves, the Kraken stood by the grand staircase, eyes glowing, his magic slithering through the minds of the gamblers and nobles above.
Their thoughts turned to fog, memories warped and dulled. Their egos shattered, replaced by docile compliance.
They would remember nothing of that night. The screams they heard, the commotion they might have noticed. They would not recall anything of the night. They would leave the House of Fortunes without a single memory of what had happened.
Meanwhile, Lukas and a few of the newly freed captives helped scavenge every last valuable and record they could find: magical scrolls, sealed ledgers detailing secret trades, enchanted collars, ownership contracts, and dozens of cursed relics now severed from their vile masters. Anything that required a code or some kind of specific spell to gain access to it, Mister Rabbit more than willingly gave up.
Among the treasure trove, they discovered a small vault sealed by ancient runes. Inside, several interdimensional storage items pulsed with light—a subspace rift stitched into amulets and spheres.
Lukas cracked them open and fed in every single piece of evidence and artifact from the House of Fortunes.
Gold, blood-money, weapons, even the golden throne at the center of the auction block—all gone in minutes. No loose ends.
He would make good use of all that he'd taken from the House of Fortune. Because damn there was a whole lot of fortune here.
It took them a while but once they finally did, Lukas, the Kraken and the rest of them had gathered right outside the House of Fortunes. The innocents who had been gambling their lives away left of the Kraken's accord, sparing them from a fate that Lukas did not feel they deserved. The rest of them remained within the House of Fortune.
"What are you going to do now?" The Kraken asked, after having followed all of Lukas' orders for him.
His master did not reply with words.
He simply raised his hand and called out to the ocean beyond. And the seas answered. They obeyed.
The waves at the coast grew erratic, then violent. Then with purpose.
From the ocean depths rose towering tides—walls of churning blue that reached beyond rooftops and swallowed the moonlight. The village trembled as water surged down its narrow alleys, but none reached the people or homes. No, the sea moved with intelligence. With precision.
Waves crashed against its foundation, ripping marble from steel, wood from stone. It was a sight that showed how much Lukas had improved in his control over the Divinity of the Seas for he had been practicing every single day as his teacher of the mystic arts had ordered him to.
Golden banisters were torn away like driftwood. The underground levels groaned, collapsed, then were sucked into the depths as if the earth itself had rejected them; wrenched out beneath the floor by the waves which swallowed them whole.
Lukas stood unmoving as it all went under, all of his focus channeled into pulling this off. Screams rang out briefly within the House of Fortune as water crushed them, silencing them as soon as they began. These were the ones that Lukas did not feel deserved mercy, ones who he did not deem innocent.
Furniture, artifacts, chandeliers—all swept away in an instant.
The entire complex was dragged into the ocean, its sins erased, its memory drowned.
The only thing left behind was Lukas, drenched in mist, and Mister Rabbit—bound, broken, his drenched bunny mask hanging from one ear, revealing a pale, sweat-slick face beneath. Too handsome to trust, with youthful aristocratic features and a sharp nose, but his terror aged him decades in moments.
His lips quivered, blood trailing from his mouth where a tooth had been knocked loose.
"You live," Lukas finally declared coldly, crouching before him. "You will confess to your crimes—to Ilagron's betrayal, to Nozar's schemes. And you will confess to them to the ruling party of this town. Countess Velena herself. Do you understand?"
Mister Rabbit nodded so hard his mask nearly fell off.
Behind Lukas, the red-haired dragon girl still lay unconscious. She would need to rest before she would awake again. He cradled her gently in his arms, vowing that he would bring this girl back to Linemall. Back to the Kingdom of Dragons, where she would be safe.
The others watched in reverent silence.
This was power. Not just the ability to destroy, but to protect. To liberate. Humanity had once nearly wiped his kind from the world, but here and now, he had shown them that they would not remain in chains.
In fact, their chains meant nothing. Their gold, their palaces, their magic—it all meant nothing before the power of a dragon. They would return. The Second Age of Dragons was upon them and Lukas would make sure of it. It did not matter if he was a Lord or not. He wanted to see his people free.
His kind would not be treated this way any longer, they would be free from the shackles that humanity had placed on them.
He was a Dragon of Linemall. He was of the Seas. And the seas itself answered to him.