Chapter 157: The Reward for Killing the Dragon

Words : 1192 Updated : Oct 10th, 2025

The sun hung low as Inigo and Lyra rode at the head of the procession, their path winding through the capital’s northern gate. Word of their triumph had already spread, galloping faster than any horse. By the time the first banner of Ironmark crossed into the city, the streets were already lined with thousands of citizens. Children waved ribbons. Bakers threw flower petals from their stalls. From high balconies, nobles and scholars alike watched with folded hands and parted lips. "They look at you like you’re not from this world," Lyra murmured, her bow slung over her shoulder. Inigo, dressed in clean leathers with his tactical vest polished and patched, kept his expression calm. The Apache helicopter had been left at the outskirts under heavy guard. He’d insisted it not enter the city walls. "I’m not," he said softly. "But I’m here now. So I guess that makes me responsible." A trumpet blared ahead. The King’s Guard rode in formation, their silver armor gleaming in the afternoon light. At the head of them, Duke Volen of the East held the banner of House Aurellian, gold on red, fluttering with pride. As the heroes approached the palace steps, a hush fell across the crowd. The gates opened wide. Out came the royal herald, dressed in crimson robes, scroll in hand. "By decree of His Majesty King Aldren the Third of House Aurellian, Ruler of the Unified Realms and Defender of the Flame, let it be known..." The voice echoed like thunder. "...that the Red Wyrm of Emberreach, long the scourge of the mountains and destroyer of our border holds, has been defeated through the valor of two souls—the brave Lady Lyra, and the foreign warrior Inigo of the Skyfire." Inigo winced slightly at the title. "Skyfire?" he whispered. Lyra smirked. "They had to call you something." The herald continued, "Let these two be brought before the King for commendation and honor befitting such a feat!" Guards stepped forward and motioned for them to ascend. The staircase was long, white marble steps leading up to the ceremonial dais before the palace doors. At the top, beneath a tall canopy of carved oak and stone, stood King Aldren himself—tall, lean, bearded, his crown a sharp angular thing of silver and obsidian. Beside him sat Queen Mirella, adorned in a robe of emerald and gold, her hands folded in her lap. Inigo and Lyra climbed slowly, step by step. The plaza behind them stretched with people. Each eye watched in silence, as though recording every movement for memory and song. At the top, they knelt as was customary. King Aldren raised a hand. "Rise." They obeyed. The King studied Inigo first. "You arrived from the sky. You brought with you a weapon no man here could craft. A beast of steel that roared louder than dragons. Tell me, Inigo... what are you?" Inigo hesitated. Then he answered plainly. "A soldier, Your Majesty. From a town far away. I come bearing no kingdom, no flag—only my will to survive, and help those I can." The King’s gaze did not falter. "You ask for no land. No titles. And yet you’ve slain a threat our ancestors failed to tame for centuries." "I didn’t do it alone," Inigo said, motioning to Lyra. "She fought with me. She stood by me from the start." A murmur passed through the court. Many had dismissed Lyra as just another ranger. Few knew her true skill—until now. The Queen leaned forward. "Then you are not a knight of any order, Lady Lyra?" "No, Your Grace," Lyra said. "Only a hunter. And a friend." The King nodded slowly. "Then it is time you were more than that." He gestured to the steward, who approached with a golden scroll and a sword in both hands. "By my will," Aldren declared, "I name you Lyra of Windfell, First Knight of the Emberwatch, sworn protector of the north and the high flame. Let it be known that this title shall pass through your bloodline, and your name shall be recorded in the Book of Flame for all generations hence." Gasps followed the pronouncement. Lyra’s jaw tightened, her lips trembling for a moment. "I..." She knelt again. "I am honored beyond words, Your Majesty." The King placed the flat of the blade upon her shoulder, then the other. "Rise, Ser Lyra." As she did, Inigo noticed the way she stood—shoulders back, chest high. Not just proud. Fulfilled. Then the King turned to him. "And you, Inigo of Skyfire... you ask for no reward. But I am a king. I cannot allow such valor to go without recognition." The steward returned again, this time with a sealed box of obsidian. Inside, a badge crafted in the shape of the rising sun, rimmed in blue metal foreign to this land. "This medal," the King said, "was forged from the remains of the dragon’s scale you shattered. Our smiths say your machine’s fire cracked it like glass. We have never seen such power." He stepped forward. "I name you Warden of the Skies, Inigo. You may serve no king, but all who fly shall know your banner. And your presence in my realm shall forever be honored and protected." He pinned the medal to Inigo’s chest, just above the reinforced strap of his vest. The crowd erupted in cheers. Drums sounded from the towers. Horns blasted from every balcony. Flower petals rained from baskets on rooftops. Even the palace guards raised their weapons in salute. Lyra turned to him with a grin. "Skyfire, huh?" "Don’t get used to it." "I already have." As the formalities ended, the royal musicians began to play. The King waved his hand, and the palace gates opened wide. "A feast awaits!" the herald announced. "In honor of the slayers of the Red!" The crowd began to move, a wave of color and voices. Tables had been set throughout the inner courtyards. Meat and mead, fruit and flame-roasted boar. Dancers and jesters filled the air with music and laughter. But Inigo hung back. He walked to the edge of the high courtyard wall, looking toward the horizon again—toward Emberreach. Lyra joined him, sipping from a goblet. "Thinking about her?" "Yeah," he admitted. "I didn’t kill her. And I don’t know if that was the right choice." Lyra was quiet for a while. Then she said, "You gave her the choice to stop. If she comes back, you’ll do what you have to." "I hope it doesn’t come to that." They stood in silence for a while, watching the sun begin to dip past the peaks. "You know what’s strange?" Inigo finally said. "What?" "This place is starting to feel... real." Lyra looked up at him. "That’s because you’re no longer a stranger. You earned your place here. With us." He gave a faint smile. Then the King’s steward called them back toward the inner court, where their seats waited beside the royal family. "Come on, Warden of the Skies," Lyra teased. "You can brood later." They turned, stepping back into the light of the palace, where songs of their battle had already begun to be sung.

Chapter 157: The Reward for Killing the Dragon

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