Lucian stepped out of his house, the afternoon sun warm on his face. He had decided to put off training with his new abilities for now. There were more immediate matters to handle.

He made his way toward the Mead Hall, where he could sense a gathering. Inside, the Vikings were in the middle of a heated meeting. Concerns flew back and forth about dragons accidentally destroying rooftops, the need for proper housing for the larger ones, food distribution, and how to handle the younger dragons that were still too playful for their own good.

Lucian waited patiently at the side, arms crossed, letting them finish. After more than half an hour, the crowd began to disperse. Stoick the Vast remained seated at the head table, finally removing his helmet with a heavy sigh and rubbing his forehead.

Lucian approached.

Stoick looked up and a tired but genuine smile spread across his face. He placed his helmet back on and leaned back. "So, what is the hero of Berk doing here?"

Lucian gave a small, respectful nod. "Chief. I wanted to speak with you. I’ve decided... I won’t be staying on Berk permanently. I’m going on an adventure. There are still many things I need to see and do." 𝘧𝓇ℯ𝑒𝓌𝑒𝑏𝓃𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭.𝒸ℴ𝓂

Stoick studied him for a long moment, then nodded with understanding. He couldn’t force the young man to stay, Lucian had already done more than enough for the village.

"I understand," Stoick said. "You’re not the type to stay in one place for long. If you’re leaving anyway, why not travel with us? In two days, we’re sailing to the Kingdom of DunBroch. Queen Elinor has sent an invitation regarding the betrothal of her daughter, Merida."

Lucian raised an eyebrow. "Betrothal?"

Stoick chuckled. "Political matters. You’re welcome to join us. Plenty of adventure to be had in the Highlands."

Lucian thought for a moment, then nodded. "I’ll come."

Stoick laughed heartily and gave Lucian a strong pat on the back. "Good! I’ll keep your house here safe. Whenever you want to return, it will be waiting for you. Now go prepare your belongings. We sail in two days."

Lucian excused himself and left the Mead Hall. As he walked back toward his house, he spotted a familiar round figure waddling along.

"Fishlegs!" he called out.

The boy turned, adjusting his helmet. "Lucian! What’s up?"

"By any chance do you know anything about the Kingdom of Lumièrea?" Lucian asked.

Fishlegs’ eyes lit up like he had just been handed a rare dragon manual. "Lumièrea? I think I read about it in one of the old books! Give me a moment, I’ll go get it!"

Before he ran off, Fishlegs suddenly remembered something and pulled out a folded newspaper from his satchel.

"Here," he said, handing it over. "It’s the latest news. You’re in it, so I thought you should see it. I’ll be right back with the book!"

Fishlegs hurried away. Lucian unfolded the newspaper curiously.

It felt strange to come across a newspaper in this era, but he knew exactly where it came from: New Thalassa, a city located on the continent of Cindervale. This was the very same place Eric had mentioned as the origin of the Flintlock of Hook. From books Fishlegs had read and told him some information, he also learned that Cindervale was an industrial continent where technology thrived and machines were everywhere.

This particular newspaper was published by a well-known organization called Big News. It was written in the common language spoken across the world and distributed globally using highly trained ravens. These birds were incredibly intelligent, they even knew how to calculate the correct change if you paid them with different forms of currency. Thanks to this system, news traveled fast, and people could stay informed about events all over the world, even in remote or less developed regions like this one.

His eyes drifted straight to the bold, striking headline dominating the front page, right above a large, vivid drawing:

TWO COLOSSAL DRAGONS CLASH NEAR BERK — ONE FALLS, ONE TRIUMPHS!

Below the headline was a dramatic picture showing two massive dragons locked in battle, fire and smoke filling the sky. Another smaller sketch showed the victorious beast with a lone figure clearly visible seated right on top of its head, holding a glowing trident aloft like a standard.

He began to read, his gaze moving steadily down the columns. The report detailed a titanic battle that had shaken the skies and seas between two massive dragons of terrifying power. By the end of the fight, one lay defeated and dead, while the victor soared high above the clouds. But what made the account truly astonishing was the claim that someone had been seated upon the dragon’s head throughout the entire conflict, a figure wielding a gleaming trident, guiding and controlling the beast as if it were nothing more than a common steed. According to the paper, witnesses had already begun calling this mysterious person the Monarch of Dragons, a title spoken with equal parts awe and fear.

"... Monarch Of Dragons?"Lucian’s eye twitched visibly as he read that part. "Ridiculous..."

He shook his head slightly, though he kept reading, curious to see what else they had made up.

Further down, beneath a smaller image depicting the great red beast rising from the waves:

THE RED BLUSTER: LEGENDARY SEA MONSTER NOW SOARS UNDER NEW COMMAND

The picture showed the dragon in all its terrifying glory, massive, crimson-scaled and jaws open clearly labeled as the beast hunted for generations.

The report explained that this was the very same legendary sea beast the Kingdom of Three Bridges had hunted for decades, the monster they had spent years trying to track down and kill, believing it to be the source of all their troubles at sea. Now, it seemed, the creature had not only survived but was under the command of this so-called Monarch.

Turning to the next section, Lucian found a new headline above two side‑by‑side sketches:

NORTHERN MARKET IN FLAMES, RARE NIGHT FURY DRAGON FREED! IS IT THE SAME ONE?

One picture showed the Northern Market burning fiercely, smoke billowing into the sky, with Captain Hook’s ship visible in the harbor. The other showed a sleek, pitch‑black dragon with glowing eyes first as it broke free from its chains, and then again flying beside the Red Bluster, with the trident‑wielding figure clearly seen riding between them.

The article recounted the events of the past month: the Northern Market being set ablaze by Captain Hook and his crew, and the rare Night Fury dragon that had been put on public display there suddenly vanishing amidst the chaos. It went on to present a popular theory circulating among scholars and observers, that the same black dragon seen flying alongside the Monarch during the battle near Berk was exactly the one that had escaped the fire. It was a bold claim, but one many seemed eager to believe.

However, it was the very next paragraph, paired with a rough but recognizable portrait that made Lucian’s expression darken slightly and his brows knit together tightly:

SPECULATION: IS THE MONARCH THE LONG‑LOST EXILED PRINCE?

The illustration showed the figure holding the trident, features shadowed but bearing a distinct resemblance to descriptions and old drawings of the Southern Isles’ missing prince.

The paper was careful to state it was only a theory, nothing proven... yet even so, the mere mention was enough to make Lucian frown deeply. If word of this was already spreading, it meant things were moving faster than he had anticipated.

He turned the page, shifting his focus to the next major story, which had its own clear image:

PRINCE ERIC OF MERLUNE DELIVERS FUGITIVES, ONLY FOR THEM TO ESCAPE DAYS LATER!

The picture showed Prince Eric standing formally beside three figures: two young men who looked nearly identical, the exiled princes and a charming, roguish man with dark hair and a smirk named Flynn Rider. A smaller sketch underneath depicted the three running free across a field.

According to the report, Prince Eric had recently taken custody of the twin exiled brothers from the Southern Isles and the infamous wanted thief Flynn Rider. He had formally handed them over to the Southern Isles authorities, seemingly resolving the matter. But barely two days later, news arrived that all three had managed to break out of the kingdom’s most secure prison and vanish completely.

Lucian shook his head slowly, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "Of course they did. Those troublemakers never stay put for long."

Finally, he turned to the very last page, where a warm, glowing illustration accompanied the final headline:

CORONA KINGDOM PREPARES FOR ANNUAL LANTERN FESTIVAL, TWO MONTHS TO GO!

The drawing was beautiful: the entire kingdom lit up by thousands of floating golden lights rising into the night sky, the castle standing tall in the background, and crowds of people watching with hopeful faces.

He read the description carefully: The festival was held every single year, always on the exact date of the lost princess’s birthday. It began eighteen years prior, right after the royal daughter had been stolen away in the dead of night. Every year since, on that same day, the King and Queen would release thousands of glowing lanterns into the sky, lighting up the dark as far as the eye could see. It was their way of honoring their missing child, but also a quiet, desperate signal, they hoped that wherever she was, wherever fate had taken her, the light would reach her, guide her, and remind her that she was loved and waited for. For the people of Corona, it was more than just a celebration; it was a day of remembrance, and a day of holding tight to the hope that one day, their lost princess would finally return home.

Lucian folded the newspaper and tucked it under his arm as he continued walking home.