The King Of Warriors novel (Jared Chance) novel Chapter 6125

"Your Majesty, Chief Roland Deragon awaits inside," Hadrian said, stepping aside with a formal bow.

Jared drew in a deep breath, pressed the surge inside back down, and walked into Dragon Hall.

The interior's sheer scale defied belief.

A dome beyond measure arched overhead, studded with countless night-glow pearls and star-stone, bathing the hall in daylight-bright radiance.

Reliefs of dragons, carved so vivid they seemed ready to fly out, covered every wall.

They chronicled eras—from the ancestral dragon of the primeval age, through the Dragon Emperor of antiquity, to the champions of later times—each tableau carrying a force that seemed to rumble in silence.

On the main seat at the hall's center sat an elder, hair streaked with white yet posture unbowed.

He wore a gold robe embroidered with nine dragons chasing a pearl; time had etched lines into his face, but his frame remained straight as a spear.

Most striking was the pair of dragon eyes that opened and closed beneath his brows; each flicker sent blades of light through the air, as though nothing could hide from their edge.

A boundless aura pooled around the man like a dark ocean. He kept the power reined in, yet a thin wave still seeped out, and the floor-to-ceiling air gave a nearly inaudible shudder under it.

He was Roland, current Clan Chief of the Sky Dragon Lineage and one of the main pillars propping up the whole Draconian race.

Roland watched Jared step through the doors of the grand hall, then rose from the throne-like seat, descended the marble stairs one deliberate step at a time, and stopped in front of him.

He said nothing at first. His time-worn dragon eyes moved over Jared's face, shoulders, and hands, lingering there. In those pupils, unspoken sparks—delight, relief, weight—flitted past and refused to leave.

After that silent inspection, Roland bent both knees and lowered his tall frame until his brow nearly touched the floor, performing the most formal Draconian obeisance. His voice came out rough but unwavering,

"Roland, Clan Chief of the Sky Dragon Lineage, greets Your Majesty, the Dragon Emperor!"

That one bow signified the Sky Dragon Lineage's complete submission to the Dragon Sovereign Bloodline.

Jared hurried a step forward, reached down, and helped Roland back up. "Chief, please—there's no need for such ceremony. I'm only a cultivator carrying a Golden Dragon Bloodline, hardly worthy of that salute."

Roland straightened, kept his shoulders slightly lowered in respect, and fastened a blazing gaze on Jared. His reply sounded as firm as hammered iron.

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