Dragon King: Throne of Demons and Gods-Chapter 16: The Sleepless Knight

Bel walked ahead of the group of hunters, his steps steady and unhurried.

Behind him, the men exchanged uneasy glances, their hands tightening around their reins as their horses shifted restlessly.

The animals, usually composed, now tossed their heads and stomped the ground, their ears flicking wildly at an unseen force.

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[Draconic Evolution System]

Name: Belzerion

Title: None

Race: Dragon

Class: Greater Wyrmling

Level: 16

EXP: 214/2000

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Core Stats:

HP: 310/310

MP: 100/100

Strength: 48

Toughness: 52

This 𝓬ontent is taken from freeweɓnovel.cѳm.

Intelligence: 38

Speed: 40

Agility: 42

Stamina: 57

Pressure: 11

Unassigned Stat Points: 0

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Draconic Core: 12%

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Bel glanced at the glowing system screen before him, satisfied with what he saw. Everything was going well.

He was stronger than ever, faster, tougher. And this was just the beginning. He grinned slightly, flexing his fingers.

"Man, I love this. I've never felt so good."

His only concern was his Mana stat. It remained unused. During his readings, he had come across references to people using mana for spells, enhancements, or something more elusive.

"So... magic? Hm... Oh, maybe dragon breath?" he muttered to himself, tilting his head. "That would be sick. Just open my mouth and torch everything in front of me, easy." He paused, looking at his hand. "Well, as long as it's not a ridiculous chant."

His thoughts were interrupted by a loud, panicked neigh.

One of the horses behind him reared, nearly throwing its rider. The hunter struggled to calm it, pulling hard on the reins. The other animals remained tense, their unease worsening the closer they got to Bel.

Bel glanced over his shoulder, observing the scene.

This again.

He had noticed it before, back in the forest. The monsters he encountered after increasing his Pressure had reacted the same way. They grew restless, uneasy, even before they saw him.

He had initially thought it was his scent, but now, he wasn't so sure.

His smirk faded slightly.

Bel considered the possibility that it wasn't his scent affecting the creatures but something else entirely, a presence that radiated from him.

If that were the case, it would be a major inconvenience, making sneak attacks nearly impossible if everything around him sensed him before he even got close.

The thought irritated him as he exhaled sharply, glancing at his hands before he turned his attention forward. The gates of the Duke's household were ahead.

Bel stepped into the household, the cool air inside contrasting with the warmth of the outside.

Almost immediately, he felt it, the weight of countless gazes.

The maids, scattered across the hallways and corridors, stopped in their tracks, eyes widening as he passed.

Some covered their mouths in shock, while others exchanged uncertain glances. The metallic scent of dried blood clung to him, his clothes tattered and torn from his battles.

He supposed it wasn't an everyday sight, someone returning to the estate looking as if he had walked straight out of a battlefield.

I need a bath.

Deciding to avoid drawing more attention than necessary, Bel adjusted his course toward the knights' quarters instead.

The bathhouse there was quieter, less frequented by nobles. The last thing he wanted was an interrogation about his state.

Crossing the training grounds, his heightened senses caught the sharp sound of a sword repeatedly striking a dummy.

His eyes flicked toward the source, Will, training under Sienna's watchful gaze.

At the sight of Bel, Will froze mid-swing. His eyes widened, his grip on the sword faltering before it slipped from his grasp and clattered against the ground.

Sienna turned at the noise, her expression shifting to confusion, then shock.

Bel quickened his pace, feeling their eyes rake over him. With his enhanced perception, he could feel their surprise, their focus lingering on him.

It wasn't unwarranted. Even he had noticed it.

His limbs had grown thicker, his muscles far more defined. His chest and abs were visibly more defined, his frame bulkier than just the day before.

The results of his relentless training, his increased stats, they were showing on his appearance.

And now, everyone else was noticing too.

A strange sensation of embarrassment crawled up his spine. He hadn't cared about his appearance before, but with every pair of eyes locked on him, his first thought was no longer about his growth, it was about covering up.

Bath first. Then clothes.

Ignoring the stares, Bel entered the knights' house, walking swiftly toward the bathhouse, eager to wash off the blood and grime.

Left behind, Will remained speechless, still staring at the door Bel had vanished through.

Sienna finally spoke, her voice tinged with disbelief.

"...What was that?"

Days passed in a relentless cycle of training, hunting, and studying.

From the first light of dawn until noon, Bel pushed his body to its limits, drilling techniques, honing his movements, and forcing his endurance past its previous peaks.

The afternoons were spent deep in the forest, where he sought out prey that no longer satisfied his growing hunger for experience points.

By nightfall, he returned to the estate, bloodied, only to bury himself in study, pouring over books until his body finally demanded rest.

But even then, his sleep was short, merely 3 hours before the cycle repeated itself.

Yet, despite his efforts, his progress had begun to slow. The creatures lurking in the nearby woods were no longer enough to push him forward.

He needed more, something stronger. But to everyone else, he was already an anomaly. The animals skittered away in his presence, their instincts screaming at them the monster growing in Bel's shadow.

Rumors spread through the estate like wildfire, whispers of a knight who never slept, a man consumed by training.

Even the nobles had begun to take notice.

From his office, the Duke observed him through the grand window, his sharp eyes locked onto the courtyard below.

Bel sat there, immobile, his posture straight, his breath controlled. It looked like meditation, but what was the purpose of this training?

Beside him, Crest stood with his arms crossed, watching alongside his father.

"What is he doing?" the Duke asked.

Crest's expression was unreadable as he replied.

"Earlier this morning, he asked Rutherford to teach him magic. I suppose this might be related to that."

The Duke hummed in interest, his gaze never leaving the figure below.

"It seems like I've misjudged him. He's like a diamond in the rough. He works without pause, never faltering. It makes one wonder if leaving him to the Baron is the wisest course."

Crest remained silent for a moment, then exhaled.

"Father, I believe that anyone can train, but training is only worthwhile if it yields results. Hard work is commendable, but without direction, can lead nowhere. And I wouldn't be surprised if most of the things people keep saying are exaggerations."

The Duke's eyes narrowed slightly, considering his words. But then, something caught his attention.

Down in the courtyard, Bel was no longer alone.

Sienna and Will had come to see him.