CHAPTER 82: THE SIGIL OF BLOOD WARDING

He shook his head, realizing that the sooner he finished figuring this out, the faster they could leave this place. That meant actually reading the book again.

Properly this time.

The weight of the tome sat heavy in his hands. This was the same book Kael claimed he had used as the basis for the sigil. And sure enough, halfway through a cramped page of runes and notes, there it was—a small illustration of the exact same marking etched on his body.

Blood Sigil. Also known as the Sigil of Draconic Blood Warding.

His pulse stuttered. No way. This really was it.

Eyes narrowing, he skimmed faster, muttering under his breath as he pieced it together. "Protective rune... essence of a dragon... inscribed upon mortals or lesser beings..." The words tumbled out, each one making him sit a little straighter, making the pit in his stomach twist a little tighter.

It was all written in annoyingly plain language, as if any fool could have read it. The damn thing was apparently a personal ward against higher entities and hostile magics.

There were four main functions. He read them twice to be sure he wasn’t hallucinating, then quietly summarized:

Resistance to Domination... shields the bearer from mental subjugation, curses, and... oh, great... soul-rending attacks. His lips pressed tight. Soul-rending attacks? Well, ideally, it should be reassuring, considering everything that happened.

"Physical Dampening," he continued under his breath. "Weakens incoming blows from overwhelmingly powerful enemies, so the bearer has a greater chance of survival." A bitter laugh nearly escaped.

Fantastic.

Translation: you’ll still get hit, just maybe not splattered.

But then again, how overwhelming do they have to be? Because he didn’t even get thrown off when Kael released all that power unconsciously.

He frowned at the next one. Emergency Manifestation... In extreme crisis, the sigil may briefly manifest a draconic shield and a shimmering aura. However, it collapses swiftly, potentially leaving the bearer weakened. His eyes darted to Kael before dropping back to the text.

Well, it seems like this one was something he didn’t want to experience. So, then all this time... had he been working with Kael’s express permission?

Then, finally: Authorized Empowerment. With the originator’s consent, the bearer may draw on a controlled fraction of draconic vitality. Stamina, strength, resistance...

Yeah, that one he remembered explicitly, because he was sure it would result in a world of pain.

But with this, he supposed it’s not like an every-use thing? Because it would’ve been impossible for Kael to grant him permission while he was in that state.

Riley thought about things deeply. But by now, golden eyes flicked sideways at him as if amused, and the aide pretended not to notice, burying his face back into the book.

As for limitations, the pages were blunt. Not a substitute for true draconic power. Unauthorized attempts equaled backlash. Possible discomfort. Warning mark.

He could practically hear the smug lizard saying it aloud: Of course, because you’re not a dragon. So this is as close as it could get.

His grip tightened. And then, at the very bottom, in tiny script, a final note caught his eye.

Improper application requires supervision of a dragon lord due to mortality risks.

His eyes bulged, his inside voice once again ringing. Supervision?! Then who was supposed to supervise the dragon lord? The words nearly slipped out; instead, he just let a sharp and disbelieving breath

The dragon lord, utterly unbothered, turned another page of his own book, as though he couldn’t see Riley’s crisis.

"No wonder I ended up with this," he muttered, dragging a hand through his hair. "You only needed your own permission."

He snapped the book shut, frustration mounting. "That’s it? That’s all it says?"

Because if that really was all, then just what the hell had happened to them?

Pages turned, one after another, but the next section wasn’t even about the sigil anymore.

The article had ended, as if that brief explanation was all there was. He tilted the book at odd angles, squinting to check if anything had been tucked into the margins. When that failed, he ran his fingers across the paper as if invisible ink might reveal itself.

The shifting, fidgeting, and muttering reached a point that even Kael, who had been quietly scanning his own texts, finally looked up. His voice was low, but laced with subtle irritation. "What’s the matter with you this time?"

"It’s nothing..." he muttered quickly, though the book was still clutched tight in his hands. "I was just checking thoroughly, because how could there be nothing about sensation sharing or emotion sharing? I mean... is this really everything in here?"

The dragon lord went very still. That word. Emotion sharing.

Golden eyes flicked to him, sharp. "What do you mean by emotion sharing?"

"Huh? What do you mean, what do I mean?" he shot back, brows furrowed as he tilted the book one way, then the other, still determined to find something that wasn’t there.

The golden stare didn’t relent. "What do you mean by emotion sharing?"

That stopped him cold.

For a beat, he froze, debating whether to keep his mouth shut. But this was how people died in stories—when they noticed something strange, chose silence, and then got devoured by it later. Besides, walking on eggshells was pointless when the one sitting behind him was already the biggest, loudest egg-breaker of them all.

Not to mention how he was always brushing with death anyway. By now, they were practically best friends with death, no?

So he swallowed, forced himself to speak, and felt his pulse hammer against his throat. "Earlier. I didn’t pass out from the raw power you unleashed. That didn’t really hurt aside from the pressure."

Kael’s expression shifted slightly, but he stayed silent, listening.

His hand pressed the book flat against his chest. "What took me out was the unbearable pain that nearly gutted me."

Golden brows drew together. "What? And why are you saying shared?"

"Yeah, about that." His laugh came out brittle. "Because I’m pretty sure it’s something I’ve never experienced before. It wouldn’t even be something that could exist in my memory."

The words came faster now, as though they’d been bottled too long. "And it wasn’t the same as the pain caused by injuries, wounds, or even the slapping and pinching. I couldn’t even determine what exactly hurt, but it was enough to feel like my heart could be carved out. Enough to drag out tears I didn’t even know I had left." His grip on the book tightened as he pressed it harder against his chest, as though he could muffle the memory through sheer pressure.

His voice dropped, quieter, but the words still came. "Also, it happened when Seris mentioned that. And while I’m not sure if it could probably be emotional pain that turned into sensation, I don’t think it’s just that... not when I felt like I was drowning in anguish."

Kael’s heart almost skipped a beat, a crack breaking through the calm mask he always wore. His eyes widened, and for once, it was the dragon who looked stunned into silence at the aide’s unfiltered word vomit.

Anguish.

He knew it was anguish.