60. The Mother Dragon

Olcan stood over the rampart, looking down on the ancient draconic city resting under the darkness. The palace was fully under his control. He was the first-ever werewolf king to accomplish standing at the dragon realm capital's highest point. But there was still a hole in his heart that couldn't possibly be healed.

“My king,” one of his sentries approached and reported, “The dragon warriors, the so-called "Dark Wings," surrounding the palace were all captured.”

“What about the brute prince and his foolish knights?” Olcan withdrew himself from the city view and moved back into the torch light.

“All were put in the dungeons.”

“Any casualties?”

“No. The Frost Stones were very effective. As soon as the stones touched their skin, they were incapable of moving.”

“You’ve done well,” Olcan gritted his teeth, “They underestimated us in every possible way, thinking I could easily fall for this imbecile's trickery.” He walked over to Serlon, who was bruised and swollen, lying in a pool of his o