Chapter 6: The Rage of the King's Court
The intelligence was flawed, a pathetic lie whispered by a desperate, low-ranking informant: *The human anomaly, a mage with dual hair, was seen seeking passage on a frontier world's black market, specifically on a planet controlled by the vampire houses.*
The reality was far messier.
**King Damien** was not merely upset; he was incandescent with rage. The shame of his miscalculation at the coronation, the fear of losing another member of his family, and the insult of the universe's silence had fractured his legendary control. Weeks had passed since Carter's disappearance, and the universe-wide search led by Rexus had yielded nothing but false flags.
Damien, now fully transformed to his imposing **6'9'' green dragon height**, ran through the flooded corridors of an underground fortress on a remote, water-logged planet. This kingdom was ruled by a self-proclaimed descendant of the first vampire, and its defenses were a motley mix of hybrid monstrosities.
Two hulking figures—a hybrid octopus and a half-shark, half-man soldier—came charging toward the King. They knew they were about to die, but their loyalty was absolute.
Damien didn't even slow down. His large, clawed hands moved in a blur, effortlessly tearing through the dense, saline-soaked flesh of the octopus hybrid before crushing the skull of the shark-man. The impact didn't stop his stride. He was killing everyone in his path. The intel was wrong; Carter was not here, and these pathetic creatures knew nothing of a black and white-haired human.
He paused, a trail of blood and brine behind him, and yelled, "Boys! Stop!"
But the command didn't reach the twins, or perhaps, they simply didn't care.
**Jordan and Cornell** were a whirlwind of focused destruction, their movements a mirror of their grandfather's blind anger. They were carving a path through the underground kingdom, slicing down everything in front of them that wasn't wearing the green of their faction.
**Jordan**, with his incredible athletic abilities, jumped and flipped over incoming hybrid sea-creatures. He used complex martial arts to sweep the legs of enemies, ending them instantly with a whisper of dark magic channeled through a black dagger and a samurai sword. His movements were furious, graceful, and deadly.
**Cornell** was the opposite. He had no use for martial arts or jumping around. He walked in a straight, unstoppable line of white-hot rage, light magic coating his hands and feet, incinerating any creature that dared approach him. His movement was a slow, angry march of pure devastation. They were on a planet of the undead, and for the twins, that information was neither here nor there; they only wanted to vent the morning of their lost friend.
Damien finally realized the extent of their rage. He needed to end this immediately before they burned out the entire planet. He exuded his full **killing intent**—a shockwave of raw True Dragon power. The fragile underground fortress groaned, cracked, and began to violently fall apart.
"Boys, he's not here!" Damien roared, his voice thick with guilt.
Jordan and Cornell finally broke their frenzy, walking out of the rumbling, collapsing fortress. Rocks and dirt rained down behind them, but they didn't flinch. Their eyes, though calmed, held a dangerous, empty light. They were tired of the pointless chase, exhausted by the grief.
For the first time since the coronation, Damien felt the full, crushing weight of his failure. He had always been the unshakable King, the eternal anchor of the dynasty. Now, he was disappointed in himself, doubting his very ability to rule. He had lost a son, and in the process, he had unleashed the full, terrifying rage of his heirs.
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