The Thunderboltous Griffin King’s iron feathers were crushed and disheveled. A series of mournful cries escaped its beak, and it could no longer summon even a spark of lightning.

It struggled and writhed, but the dragon’s claw was like an unmovable mountain, crushing all its resistance to powder.

After a futile struggle, the Thunderboltous Griffin King finally gave up.

It lowered its proud head, its tense body completely relaxing. From deep in its throat came a low rumble, a sound of submission.

Only then did Sun release its claws in satisfaction. It circled above the peak, its golden form gazing down upon its new "employee."

"Nicely done."

Raylo offered a simple compliment.

The Golden Dragon let out a low rumble in response, sounding quite proud of itself, as if to say, ’It was nothing.’

Raylo, riding Baofeng, led the sixteen Griffin Knights as they slowly landed on the mountaintop.

The Thunderboltous Griffins, whose courage had just been shattered by the Dragon Mighty, were now as docile as newborn chicks, not daring to offer the slightest resistance to their approach.

"Go check the nest."

Raylo ordered.

A few Knights immediately dismounted and cautiously made their way toward a large cavern at the back of the peak.

Soon, they emerged carrying a huge nest woven from dried branches and the fur of Magical Beasts.

Inside the nest, four fluffy hatchlings were huddled together, blinking their eyes with curiosity.

Their feathers were still just downy gray fluff, and they wobbled when they walked. Occasionally, an uncontrolled spark of electricity would CRACKLE from their bodies, a sight both adorable and comical.

Next, they brought out another nest containing three unhatched Griffin eggs.

"Secure the nests to the Griffins’ backs. Be careful not to frighten them."

Raylo instructed.

The Knights sprang into action, calling over two Storm Griffins and securely fastening the nests to their backs.

With that taken care of, Raylo finally had time to deal with the sulking little one seated before him on his saddle.

He produced a roasted goose leg that had been glazed with maple syrup—Moonlight’s favorite treat.

"Want some?"

He held the roasted goose leg out to Moonlight’s snout.

The large, snow-white cat merely flicked an eyelid open to glance at it before haughtily turning its head away, not even a whisker twitching.

Its posture seemed to say, ’Don’t try to buy me off with such a crude offering.’

"Still angry that Sun stole your job?"

Raylo chuckled, a hint of resigned affection in his voice.

Moonlight ignored him, scratching an ear with a hind paw while the tip of its tail swept impatiently across the ground.

Raylo shook his head.

’For a mighty Silver Dragon to throw a tantrum over something like this... he really is one of a kind.’

’Then again, that’s part of what makes him so charming.’

He didn’t press the issue. His gaze swept over the thirteen newly subdued adult Thunderboltous Griffins, then to the clutch of hatchlings and unhatched Griffin eggs that represented the future, and a sense of satisfaction filled him.

"Let’s head back."

Raylo gave the order to return.

The massive formation turned and flew west.

The Golden Dragon, Sun, still flew escort high above. The formation, composed of sixteen Storm Griffin Knights and thirteen newly joined Thunderboltous Griffin Knights, resembled a moving thundercloud as it majestically began the journey home.

As Raylo’s party set off on their return journey, the vast Griffin flock streaked across the sky.

Deep within the Royal Palace of Thunder Dragon City, a court meeting that would decide the Duchy’s fate was proceeding in a somber and oppressive atmosphere.

Seated high upon the throne, the Thunder Dragon Duke’s face was as firm and unreadable as carved granite.

Below, the key figures of the Duchy were lined up on either side, the atmosphere so tense it was almost tangible.

Ramon, the Minister of Internal Affairs, was the first to step forward.

He held a sheepskin dossier, his voice echoing in the silent hall.

"Your Majesty, over the past several days, the Ministry of Internal Affairs has received more than fifteen joint petitions from the Northern Lords. These nobles, led by Marquis Luke, have expressed their gravest concerns regarding the assassination attempt on Count Raylo of Black Stone Territory—an attack carried out within our Duchy’s borders by a Domain Level Powerhouse from the Saint Violet Empire. They... demand that the Duchy respond with the necessary force to defend the honor of both the Duchy and the Northern Territory."

As Ramon finished speaking, a quiet stir went through the hall.

Allowing a powerful, decorated Count to be placed in such peril was, from any perspective, a blatant challenge to the entire ruling order of the Thunder Dragon Duchy.

The Duke’s gaze remained fixed as he uttered a single name.

"Gaius."

Gaius, the Commander-in-Chief of the Thunder Dragon Duchy, Commander of the Thunder Dragon Knight Order, and known as the "Iron Wall," stepped forward.

"Your Majesty, the interrogation of Graves—the former Commander of the Saint Violet Empire’s Thorn Knight Order and a Domain Level Powerhouse—is complete."

Gaius’s voice was perfectly steady.

"He was interrogated after our Chief Magic Consultant, Herast, applied the Truth-Telling Technique. He has confessed that the operation was a direct order from Duke Angmar, a member of the Saint Violet Empire’s royal family. His accomplice, the other Domain Level assassin Sela, the ’Angel of Death,’ was also acting under the Duke’s command."

The hall erupted in an uproar.

’A Duke of the Empire personally ordered the assassination of one of the Duchy’s own Counts?’

’Is he trying to provoke a war between our nations?’

Gaius paused before dropping an even bigger bombshell.

"According to Graves’s confession, Duke Angmar acted so recklessly because he received a secret letter from someone here in Thunder Dragon City. The letter implored him to eliminate Raylo of Black Stone, this ’dire threat,’ at any cost."

The Duke’s eyelids lifted slightly, a cold glint flashing in his eyes.

"Whose letter?"

Gaius’s gaze landed squarely on the First Prince, Eliot, who stood near the front in his magnificent robes.

"The letter, Your Majesty, came from Duke Angmar’s own nephew—our First Prince, His Highness Prince Elliot."

In an instant, all eyes were fixed on Eliot.

Eliot’s face went pale, but he immediately forced himself to remain composed. He strode forward abruptly, his voice sharp with agitation.

"Father! This is slander! Utter and complete slander!"

Eliot’s face flushed as he desperately defended himself.

"He is a prisoner from an enemy nation! How can his words be trusted? This is clearly a conspiracy by the Saint Violet Empire! They want to use these despicable means to drive a wedge between father and son and destabilize the Duchy! What a malicious plot!"

The moment he finished speaking, a court Marquis aligned with his faction immediately stepped forward and bowed.

"Your Majesty, His Highness the First Prince speaks the truth! The word of an enemy prisoner cannot be trusted. We must handle this matter with the utmost caution, lest we fall into our enemy’s trap."

For a moment, murmurs of debate arose once more in the hall, and some of the undecided nobles seemed to feel there was merit to this argument.

Eliot’s heart settled slightly. He puffed out his chest and tried to meet his father’s gaze with a look of frank honesty.