Dragon King's Harem Chapter 448. War Mode

Dragon King's Harem Chapter 448. War Mode

The palace corridors were still quiet—too quiet. It felt like the whole place had suddenly grown eyes, like the palace itself was watching, waiting to see what I’d do.

Al’s room was across from mine. Not even ten paces away. I didn’t even need to knock. Just pushed the door open with the back of my hand and stepped in.

He didn’t jump.

Didn’t smile either.

Al was standing at the window, back to me, hands behind him. His coat was half unbuttoned, the sleeves rolled, his hair faintly damp like he’d just splashed water on his face to keep himself grounded. His posture was too straight, too still—especially for someone who usually lounged across chairs like he owned every room he walked into.

The air around him buzzed with latent mana. Not dangerous yet—but sharp. Restrained.

I stepped in, closed the door behind me. No guards. No one else. Just me and him.

He didn’t turn around.

“I know that walk,” he said finally. Voice calm. Too calm. “That’s the walk you do when your instinct’s yelling louder than the palace bells.”

I exhaled through my nose. “You’re not exactly relaxed either.”

“I was.” He finally turned his head, just slightly. “Before he showed up.”

There it was. That edge in his tone.

He turned fully, and yeah, there it was. Al looked like himself, sure—same roguish face, same messy hair and brows. But the eyes? Not his usual spark. Not his usual mischief.

That was war mode.

His jaw was tense, shoulders squared. No jokes. No smirk. Just that rare version of Al that reminded me he was still a high noble of the Witch Tribe—an exiled one, yeah, but blood still carried weight.

“You felt it?” I asked.

He gave a hollow chuckle. “Felt it? I nearly ripped the window out of its frame trying not to go charging out there.”

I sighed and crossed the room slowly. “Al.”

“Don’t,” he said, shaking his head once. “Don’t do the thing where you tell me to breathe or meditate or think of fucking sunsets.”

I stopped a few feet away. “You do need to calm down.”

“Easy for you to say,” he snapped, finally looking me in the eye. “Your family didn’t vanish because of him. You didn’t come home to ash and silence while his name was still echoing in your father’s mind as he—” He cut himself off. Fist clenched.

The mana flared again. Just slightly. Then ebbed.

I stayed quiet for a beat.

“You know our mission,” I said finally. Voice low. Measured.

His eyes narrowed. “Don’t throw protocol at me.”

“I’m throwing purpose at you.”

That hit. His shoulders dropped a little. He didn’t look away, but the heat behind his gaze flickered, cooled a notch.

“We came here for the prince. For Maria. For the damn drake and the rune in the kid’s chest,” I said, my tone sharper now. “Callum’s not part of the plan.”

“He will be,” Al muttered. “You think he’s here for ceremony and cake?”

“No,” I said. “But if you start something with him now—out there, in their capital—then everything we’ve done gets torched.”

Al looked away again, jaw tight. “We’re already walking on thin ice here. The kid… the wedding… the queen’s silence. And now he walks in?”

“I know,” I said quietly. “It changes things. But we stick to the mission.”

He was silent again. The tension in his hands, in his stance, in his aura—it was like standing next to a tightly sealed curse. I knew this version of Al. I’d seen it back when his family was wiped off the map, when the council turned their backs and erased his name like it was a smudge on parchment. When he had to walk away from everything, knowing the system that raised him never intended to protect him.

And now the man at the root of it all had waltzed back into the narrative, cloaked in diplomacy.

Al wasn’t just angry.

He was remembering.

And now the ghost of all that walked right through the front gates.

“Al,” I said, softer this time. “I know it’s personal. But if you lose it now, you’re not just hurting him. You’re burning Kaelen’s escape route. You’re burning Maria’s trust. You’re burning our play.”

“I know,” he said. Not bitter. Just tired.

“You sure?” I asked.

He looked at me again. This time, something behind the fury cracked—just slightly.

“Yeah,” he breathed. “I’m sure.”

Good.

Because I was going to need him—sharp, focused, and on my side—not spiraling into revenge while Callum slowly threaded himself into whatever game was being played here.

A knock came, light but quick. Then the door opened a crack.

“Sela?” I called.

She peeked in. Her eyes scanned the room, saw Al standing tense, me mid-stride. Her mouth pressed into a line. “Sela didn’t find Your Majesty in your room, so Sela thought maybe…”

“You were right,” I said. “I came to talk to him.”

Her expression softened slightly. “The Witch King is here.”

“I know,” I said.

Al’s jaw twitched again, but he stayed quiet.

Sela stepped inside, closing the door behind her. “His mana is spreading. The palace wards are adapting to him now. He’s being treated as a high-level diplomatic guest.”

“Of course he is,” I muttered. “Even his footsteps come with a warning label.”

She looked between us. “Should Sela prepare countermeasures?”

I glanced at Al. “No. Not yet. But stay ready.”

Al said nothing.

He just walked past me, sat down heavily on the armrest of the small fireplace chair in the corner, then rubbed his face like he was physically grinding the fury down into something manageable.

Sela tilted her head toward him. “You alright?”

“Getting there,” he said.

Sela looked at me, her expression soft but serious. “Sela came to check on you… and to ask—what should Sela do?”

I met her gaze. “Stay close, for now. I might need you near the queen later.”

She nodded once. “Then Sela will stay nearby. If you need anything… just call.”

“Thank you,” I said, more quietly this time.

With another small nod, she turned and slipped out.

Al waited a moment, then looked at me again, his voice low. “We’re going to have to watch him.”

I nodded. “Every step.”

“Because if he’s here to twist this whole thing… if he even thinks about using that kid—”

“No,” I cut in, firm. “He isn’t here for the kid. It’s either for me or you…”