The alarm bells echoed across Elarion.

Cold metallic sounds rolled through the industrial city while workers stopped along factory streets and rifle patrols flooded the districts beneath falling snow.

Search lanterns ignited across the fortress walls. Checkpoint gates slammed shut. Steam whistles screamed through the night.

And hidden within the lower administrative quarter—

The assassins realized the mission had already failed.

"Move."

The leader’s voice remained low and controlled while the four men pushed through a narrow alley between brick refinery buildings.

Snow mixed with drifting steam around them while distant rifle patrols spread rapidly through the district.

Too rapidly.

One assassin glanced behind nervously.

"How did they react this fast?"

"This city was waiting for infiltration."

That answer unsettled everyone.

Because it felt true.

Elarion did not react like a peaceful noble territory surprised by danger.

It reacted like a fortress expecting attack.

Somewhere ahead, whistles echoed sharply.

Checkpoint coordination.

The assassins immediately changed direction.

But every street now contained:

patrols,

barricades,

or armed workers.

Even civilians moved with alarming discipline.

One blacksmith carrying a hammer calmly pointed toward another alley after spotting them.

Not frightened.

Reporting.

The assassins vanished into the smoke-filled side streets before nearby rifle patrols arrived moments later.

But now they understood the problem clearly.

The city itself was hostile.

Far above the industrial district atop the fortress walls, Aurethar slowly rose to his full height.

Golden scales reflected the firelight of Elarion below while smoke drifted from his nostrils into the freezing night.

The dragon’s ancient eyes scanned the city carefully.

Then narrowed.

"There."

Without warning Aurethar spread his enormous wings.

The force alone sent snow exploding from the fortress towers while nearby soldiers instinctively grabbed onto the walls for balance.

Then the ancient golden dragon launched into the night sky.

Inside the lower city, the assassins finally reached an abandoned warehouse district near the inner rail construction yards.

The leader stopped sharply.

"Regroup."

All four men gathered quickly beneath the shadow of a steel storage building while distant patrol lanterns swept across nearby streets.

One assassin pulled out a concealed blade.

"We can still reach the fortress."

"No."

The leader shook his head immediately.

"Security already locked the upper districts."

Another assassin cursed quietly.

"This place is insane."

Not entirely wrong honestly.

Because Elarion no longer resembled a medieval city.

It resembled an industrial fortress.

Every district connected through:

checkpoints,

signal systems,

patrol routes,

and alarm coordination.

Lucien had prepared for sabotage long before tonight.

And now the assassins were trapped inside the system he built.

Suddenly—

The ground trembled.

All four men froze instantly.

Heavy.

Rhythmic.

Something enormous landed nearby.

Then came heat.

Warm wind rolled through the freezing alleyways while golden light reflected faintly across the surrounding steel structures.

One assassin slowly looked upward.

And nearly lost the ability to breathe.

Aurethar stared down at them from above the warehouse rooftops.

The ancient golden dragon’s massive form towered over the district while glowing golden eyes fixed directly upon the assassins below.

Smoke drifted slowly from between his teeth.

"...Well."

The dragon sounded almost disappointed.

"You people certainly make poor life decisions."

Nobody moved.

Nobody breathed.

One assassin instinctively stepped backward.

Aurethar noticed immediately.

The dragon’s expression somehow became amused.

"Oh good." "The nervous one understands the situation."

The leader recovered first.

"Move!"

All four assassins split instantly.

Professional reflex.

Fast.

Efficient.

Pointless.

Aurethar’s massive tail smashed through the alley entrance before two assassins even reached it.

Stone exploded outward violently.

One man disappeared beneath collapsing masonry instantly.

The second tried to roll away—

Golden claws pinned him against the frozen ground effortlessly.

The assassin screamed once.

Then stopped.

The remaining two fled deeper into the warehouse district while rifle whistles echoed nearby.

Elarion patrols were closing fast now.

The leader sprinted through drifting steam while drawing a concealed enchanted dagger.

"Keep moving!"

Behind them—

Aurethar laughed.

A deep rumbling sound rolled through the industrial district like distant thunder.

"You came to assassinate the ruler of my city."

The dragon’s massive wings unfolded slowly across the rooftops.

"And somehow expected this to end well."

One assassin suddenly turned and threw several enchanted knives upward.

The blades struck Aurethar’s golden scales.

Ping.

Ping.

Ping.

They bounced off harmlessly.

Silence followed.

Then Aurethar slowly blinked.

"...Adorable."

Fire exploded downward.

Not full dragonfire.

Not even close.

Just a burst of controlled golden flame.

The entire alley vanished beneath heat and light instantly.

When the fire faded—

Nothing remained except burning stone.

The last assassin froze completely.

Because now he finally understood the scale of his mistake.

This was not merely Lucien’s territory.

A dragon guarded it.

And not a distant dragon.

Not an indifferent dragon.

Aurethar was invested.

Personally invested.

That realization shattered whatever courage remained.

The final assassin turned desperately toward the outer streets—

Only to find riflemen waiting there.

Dark-coated Elarion soldiers blocked the road ahead while bayonets glinted beneath lantern light.

Malen stepped forward from the center formation calmly.

"Drop the weapon."

The assassin looked behind him.

Golden dragon.

Rifle line.

No escape.

Still—

He lunged anyway.

Professional until the end.

A rifle cracked instantly.

The assassin collapsed into the snow.

Silence returned slowly afterward.

Steam drifted through the ruined warehouse district while Elarion patrols secured the area carefully.

Aurethar lowered his massive head slightly toward Malen.

"These southern nobles are becoming irritating."

Malen calmly cleaned snow from his gloves.

"They attempted assassination."

"Yes."

Golden eyes narrowed faintly.

"That generally irritates people."

Fair point honestly.

Moments later Lucien arrived alongside Cedric and additional guards.

The ruined district still glowed faintly from dragonfire while broken stone and scorched steel littered the streets.

Cedric looked around slowly.

"...Subtle."

Aurethar sounded offended.

"I used restraint."

Several soldiers nearby quietly avoided commenting.

Lucien approached the dead assassins silently while officers searched the bodies.

One guard finally looked up.

"Southern forged identities confirmed."

Cedric sighed.

"Well." "There goes political deniability."

Lucien’s expression remained calm.

Too calm.

That honestly worried Cedric slightly.

Because assassination changed things.

Pressure. Blockades. Military standoffs.

Those still belonged to politics.

This—

This crossed into something darker.

Aurethar observed Lucien quietly for several moments.

Then the ancient golden dragon spoke softly.

"They are afraid now."

Snow continued falling across the burning district while distant factory whistles echoed through the night.

Lucien looked toward the southern horizon silently.

Then finally answered:

"They should be."