Vaelrond reappeared before the manor in a flash of light, his boots striking the stone courtyard with enough force to leave faint cracks beneath them. The earlier shock of being sent flying still lingered in his body, not as pain, but as humiliation, a sensation far more difficult for a Dragon King to swallow.

  The courtyard had become unnervingly quiet.

  Arthur stood near the center, with his hands inside his pockets, his posture was relaxed to the point of indifference. Around him, several Ashenfang elders and knights remained frozen in place, their weapons still raised and ready, but their expressions were caught somewhere between fear and disbelief. None of them dared to move, not after what they had just witnessed.

  A short distance away, Augustus stood with his arms folded, and was leaning slightly against a stone pillar. There was no tension in his stance, or urgency in his expression. If anything, his eyes held a glimmer of amusement, as though he were watching a particularly entertaining play unfold before him.

  Vaelrond’s gaze snapped back to Arthur.

  His jaw clenched so tightly that the muscles along his neck stood out. The silence stretched, it was heavy and oppressive, until he finally forced the words out, his voice was low and strained.

  “W… what realm have you achieved…?”

  The question carried more weight than it seemed. It was not simple curiosity, it was the instinctive demand of a ruler who had just realized the board he thought he controlled was far larger, and far more dangerous than he had imagined.

  Arthur tilted his head slightly, studying the Dragon King with mild interest, as though Vaelrond were a puzzle he hadn’t yet decided was worth solving.

  “Why does it matter to you?” Arthur replied calmly.

  The words felt like a slap to Vaelrond, and a ripple of restrained fury passed through him. His draconic aura flared for just a fraction of a second before he forcibly reined it in. The elders beside him stiffened, while the knights exchanged uneasy glances. Even they could feel that this was not a situation they could resolve with strength or authority.

  Augustus’s lips curved faintly at the exchange, though he said nothing.

  Vaelrond exhaled sharply through his nose. He had already lost face today, and continuing this confrontation would only strip away what little dignity he had left.

  He turned toward his entourage and said, his voice was clipped. “We’re leaving.”

  Relief flickered across the faces of several elders, and no one argued or questioned the order.

  Vaelrond had just taken a step forward when…

  “Who said you could leave?”

  Arthur’s voice cut through the courtyard, it was calm and unhurried, yet heavy enough to freeze them before they took any more steps.

  Vaelrond tried to move again, to leap into the air, to tear the restriction placed on his body apart with sheer force if necessary, but his body refused to respond and it didn’t move even an inch. The same invisible pressure locked down every elder and knight present, causing them to be frozen in place without warning.

  It wasn’t gravity or mana suppression, Arthur had utilized Telekinesis to stop them. And with his current strength it was quite easy for him to do so without the other party to be able to resist.

  Vaelrond’s eyes widened as realization hit him, this wasn’t something he could overpower.

  Arthur stepped forward as each of his footsteps echoed softly against the stone as he closed the distance between them, his presence growing heavier with every second. When he stopped before Vaelrond, the Dragon King found himself looking slightly upward, despite being taller as he was bearing the most pressure so his knees were bent.

  Arthur reached into his dimensional storage and produced several small, transparent syringes filled with faintly shimmering liquid.

  Confusion flickered across Vaelrond’s face. “What are you…”

  But before he could finish his question, Arthur drove one of the syringes forward and plunged it cleanly into Vaelrond’s chest.

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  Vaelrond’s breath hitched violently as pain flared in his chest, it was sharp and unexpected. His eyes flew open in shock as Arthur calmly pressed the plunger injecting the content inside his heart, and took another empty syringe and inserted it in Vaelrond's chest again then drew back slightly, extracting a measured amount of blood.

  The elders shouted in outrage, the knights roared and strained against the invisible restraints, but none of them could move even a finger.

  Arthur withdrew the syringe, capped it, and moved on.

  One by one, he approached the others, repeating the process without showing any emotion on his face.

  Despite the syringes piercing dangerously close to vital organs or even inside their heart, none of them died. Their vitality, especially Vaelrond’s, was too high for something like this to be lethal.

  When Arthur was done, he stepped back and casually stored the syringes away. And the invisible pressure surrounding Vaelrond and his entourage vanished instantly.

  Vaelrond staggered, clutching his chest, then straightened slowly. His golden eyes burned with unrestrained hatred as he glared at Arthur, his aura flared violently, but he didn’t attack.

  Without another word, he turned and vanished, followed closely by his shaken entourage.

  The courtyard remained silent long after they were gone. Steve walked up beside Arthur, hands tucked into his sleeves as he watched the empty sky where Vaelrond had disappeared.

  “You let him go,” Steve said thoughtfully. “You know he’ll try to cause trouble again.”

  Arthur smirked faintly. “Who said I let him go?”

  Steve turned his head slightly, with his eyebrow lifting.

  Arthur’s eyes gleamed with quiet certainty. “His fate’s already sealed.”

  Steve studied him in silence for a long moment. He didn’t need to ask what Arthur meant. He could already sense it, Arthur had injected them with something unknown. And that might be the reason for his confidence.

  Arthur had injected biological nanites in their bodies. Though Arthur had to improve them heavily and even reinforce them with layered runic structures runes for them to affect a Transcended realm expert, the trouble was worth it as eventually those who are injected with the nanites would turn into his puppets. As those nanites had the capability to mimic cellular functions, replicate slowly, and replace the original cells piece by piece.

  It was a slow process, but inevitable. And when the process was complete, Vaelrond and those injected would no longer truly be themselves.

  Steve exhaled quietly. “You’ve grown,” he said at last. Not in power alone but in resolve.

  A short while later, the two of them resumed sparring as if nothing had happened.

  Hours passed beneath the fading sun, shockwaves rippling harmlessly across reinforced space as fists clashed and techniques were tested. When the sun was beginning to set, they returned to Steve’s mansion and sat on the patio overlooking the gardens, tea steaming gently between them.

  Arthur stared into his cup for a moment before speaking. “Do you have any holy or light-attributed magic tomes?”

  Steve nodded and, with a flick of his wrist, produced several ancient books bound in leather. Arthur picked one up, and flipped through it absently.

  “What do you need these for?” Steve asked casually as he sipped on his cup.

  Arthur sighed and stood up. “It would be easier if I show you.”

  He got up and moved from the patio and with a wave of his hand, a large containment receptacle materialized nearby. Inside it floated the twisted body of a deformed human, the person’s veins were darkened, and his flesh was warped by something that was never meant to exist within a mortal vessel.

  Steve’s expression changed instantly as he got up from his seat and walked around it and inspected the body inside the receptacle.

  “I can sense a foreign will inside the body,” he said slowly. “And… a very sinister energy coursing through it.”

  Arthur frowned. “What do you mean by foreign will?”

  Steve explained. “Once you reach the peak of Demigod the threshold of reaching Godhood, mana begins to carry your will. And as Gods had absolute control of mana, they can easily control the attacks if their opponents hadn't reached Godhood themselves, so infusing your will with your mana makes the opponent unable to take control of it. And the energy…” He tapped the glass. “That is coursing through the body of this person carries the will of someone incredibly powerful.”

  Arthur nodded as he felt it made sense. Then he asked as he pointed to the body floating inside the receptacle, "So you are saying the energy running through his body had the will of someone as strong as a God?"

  Steve nodded, "There's a high probability of that, but I am sure the person is at least as strong as me."

  Arthur absorbed that silently. “So,” he asked, “is there a way to remove it?”

  “Yes,” Steve replied. “You just need to be stronger than the person whose energy is inside this body. But still, with how weak this person’s body is, he won't survive the process of eliminating the foreign will. And no holy magic won't help in this matter.”

  Arthur’s gaze lingered on the body, he had a thoughtful expression on his face as he finally got an answer on how to help all those victims of Chimerian experiments, but it looks like it had to wait for now.

  And as for the victim's being weak to be unable to survive the process, he could just make their bodies stronger using various serums, though the current serums he possessed won't be enough. So, he had to develop something new.

  Then he nodded. “Understood.”

  And after thanking Steve, he teleported away, already planning his next steps.

  ***