“Since you dared strike at me, I’ll see to it you accept the outcome—mind, body, and soul.”

As soon as Jared finished speaking, the draconic essence embedded in his chest pulsed to life. Lances of gold burst outward, painting the training ground in blinding light. Behind him, that light knitted itself into the towering silhouette of a golden dragon, each translucent scale glinting like freshly poured molten metal.

A reverberating roar—deep, ancient, endless—ripped through the clouds.

The shockwave made every spectator stagger, and the weaker Imperial Guards collapsed where they stood.

Rylan stared, dumbstruck.

The dragon bloodline he once flaunted now felt like a cheap trinket displayed beside a living crown jewel.

Jared was not merely of a dragon bloodline. He carried the most exalted blood of all—the lineage of the golden dragon.