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Dragon King's Harem Chapter 446. The Witch King
🕑 Added 2025-04-18 17:08:10 +0000 UTCDragon King's Harem Chapter 446. The Witch King
But as soon as they neared the southern edge, just before the corridor that would lead them toward the quieter observation deck near the gates, a pair of guards stepped out from their posts and blocked the path with the hilts of their glaives.
“Prince Kaelen,” one said, bowing slightly. “You’re not allowed beyond this point without escort.”
Kaelen blinked, startled, and looked up at Sela.
Sela gave her best disarming smile. “Sela and the prince are just taking a peek. A quick look. No contact. Just curiosity.”
One of the guards frowned. “It’s not permitted, Lady…”
“Sela,” she replied sweetly. “Also, Lady Sela of the Dwarf Tribe, and the legal wife of His Majesty the Dragon King Argod.”
The guard flinched a little, unsure if he was supposed to bow again or just step aside. He looked to his partner, who hesitated.
“This isn’t about disrespect,” the first guard muttered. “It’s palace policy. We’re responsible for the prince’s security.”
Sela’s smile didn’t fade, but it gained a tiny sharp edge. “Sela understands. But Sela is also responsible. And the prince is with Sela. Who, in case it wasn’t clear, is a royal envoy under the Dragon King’s protection. A little peek won’t hurt. Unless you’re planning to explain to your queen why you denied a diplomatic wife from looking at a visiting delegation.”
The guards exchanged a look. One of them sighed. “Very well. But we’ll accompany you. At a distance.”
Sela gave a cheerful nod. “Fine with Sela! As long as you walk quieter than a boulder.”
Kaelen giggled.
The guards didn’t.
Still, they allowed the pair through, trailing a respectful few paces behind, though their eyes never stopped scanning their surroundings. The way they moved screamed trained, professional, and tightly wound. If anything even smelled like trouble, those glaives would be in motion before anyone blinked.
Kaelen leaned into Sela and whispered, “You’re really good at talking to people.”
Sela puffed up a little. “Sela talks a lot. It’s a skill.”
Kaelen grinned as they continued on, ducking through a smaller side gate half-concealed behind a carved pillar of ice shaped like a phoenix wrapped in swirling frostfire. Beyond that was the overlook. Not grand enough to draw crowds, but perfect for quiet observers. The view stretched clean across the outer court toward the southern gates.
And just in time, too.
The convoy was arriving.
They crouched.
Sela peeked.
Kaelen peeked harder.
What they saw made even her eyes widen.
A black and deep-indigo carriage flanked by armored witch knights rolled to a slow halt, the air around it unnaturally still—like even the cold dared not touch it. Five figures disembarked from the magically glowing platform. The aura around them was thick, as if someone had melted shadow into silk and then lit it from within with starlight.
But it was the man in the center that drew everything in.
His presence wasn't loud—it didn’t need to be. It simply existed, in a way that demanded the world reshape itself around him.
King Callum Eldridge Shadowsoul of the Witch Tribe.
Tall. Lean. And draped in a flowing black mantle lined with shifting silver threads that moved like mist. His skin was a smooth midnight hue, not from age or shadow, but from magic woven directly into his flesh—faint glowing veins of violet arcanum like living tattoos.
His hair was long, tied in a high loop that fell over one shoulder, dark with streaks of ghostly white. His eyes… Sela couldn't stop staring at them. They weren’t just glowing—they were lit, like twin moons dipped in ink. Calm, cold, and old. Like they’d seen kingdoms rise and fall and found none of them impressive.
The air around him shimmered faintly, like heat mirage mixed with fog. Not fire. Just raw, unfiltered magic.
He stepped forward, his boots leaving no sound on the ice-polished stone. His guards moved like echoes behind him, and the entire procession seemed to make the snow hush.
Kaelen whispered beside her, “Is he a ghost?”
Sela shook her head slowly. “No. That’s a witch king.”
He was elegance and danger wrapped in robes. And Sela knew enough of the world to know he didn’t come here without a reason. Witch tribe monarchs didn’t just visit. Especially not during sensitive events like political weddings.
“Why do you think he’s here?” Kaelen whispered.
Sela squinted again. The Witch King raised one hand, and a small wisp of dark smoke curled upward, forming into a crest—glimmering sigil of a pact.
Sela’s fingers clenched the railing. “Pact magic…”
Kaelen tilted his head. “What’s that?”
Sela didn’t answer. Her gut twisted. That kind of magic was only used for something big—alliances, duels, or… claims.
Callum spoke to the snow elf official who came to greet him. She was pale under her fur hood, and even her bow looked hesitant. The rest of his party stood silent behind him—one looked like a sorcerer, judging by the floating tomes orbiting his shoulder, while another was probably an enchanter judging from the scent of rune-ink Sela caught in the air.
And still, King Callum hadn’t even drawn a weapon, and it felt like everyone else already lost.
Kaelen whispered again. “Do you think Mama knows he’s here?”
Sela exhaled through her nose. “Sela hopes so.”
Because if she didn’t, this just became a lot messier than planned.
Still crouched behind the icy stone railing, Kaelen tugged on Sela’s sleeve. “He looks really strong.”
“He is,” Sela replied.
“Stronger than Dragon King?”
Sela didn’t speak for a second. “Different.”
Kaelen nodded like he understood—like that was enough of an answer.
The two of them stayed hidden for another few minutes, watching the slow movements of the convoy as they began to make their way deeper into the palace grounds. Whatever quiet arrangement had been made, it was already in motion.
As the group passed out of sight and the air returned to something more breathable, Kaelen turned to Sela again.
“I’m kinda scared now.”
Sela offered him a tiny smile. “That’s okay. Sela is too.”
And as they crept back the way they came, Sela's mind raced faster than her boots could carry her.
Because if Callum Shadowsoul had come in person, it meant whatever game was being played in this palace… just got a whole new set of rules. Especially… since Almeric was also here.
