Dragon Genesis: I Can Create Dragons

Chapter 494: Better… uses?

“You… already knew.”

Ravon’s voice trembled as the realization set in.

The faint light in his eyes—the bright, powerful spark that had returned when he began to speak—slowly dimmed again as ’hope’ disappeared.

His shoulders slumped, and his head dropped low until his matted hair shadowed his face.

“You know—”

He whispered, his voice breaking,

“—yet you still stand with them.”

His chained hands clenched, the cold metal biting into his skin.

“You… you are no different from them…”

He spoke, a fake, hollow smile appearing on his face—a smile Kael could not see, but even then, he could feel it. He could feel Ravon breaking down, he could see the flicker of hope that had returned in his hollow, dark life disappearing right in front of him.

And despite seeing it all, his expression didn’t change.

His face remained calm—almost too calm.

After all, at this point, even he realized what ’role’ he was supposed to play here. A ’role’ that would set things right.

“I do not stand with anyone in particular,”

After a short silence, he finally spoke in a quiet but heavy tone.

A God.

That was the role Lavinia had created for him.

But…

God wasn’t the only role Kael needed to play. Together with God, he had another role to play—

A Hero.

And since all these roles were forced upon him, Kael decided to let it be. He would play them like they all wanted him to—

But the how would not be decided by them; it would be decided by him.

“I stand with humanity.”

He spoke.

Ravon lifted his head slightly, disbelief flashing across his bruised face. Then, he laughed—a broken, bitter sound that echoed in the chamber.

“Humanity?”

He repeated.

“You call them humanity? Those parasites who feed on their own? Those cowards who steal from the old and bury their dead in silence?”

“Those ’cowards’ are the reason you are alive to this day.”

Kael’s firm and unshaken voice cut through his laughter.

Ravon paused, confusion flickering on his face, and Kael continued—

“In the outside world, an orphan like you—raised by no one, adopted by an old woman—would have been abandoned by everyone. You wouldn’t have had food or shelter, let alone a chance to grow and become what you did today.

But the Velmourns did not abandon you.

They raised you.”

Ravon narrowed his eyes at those words, but again, Kael ignored him and continued—

“When you showed promise, they trained you further.

When you proved yourself, they placed you on the Wall and even let you Bond with Beasts—an opportunity not many get to enjoy, but an orphan like you did.

You think they did that because they cared about you?

No—they did it because you were valuable to their survival. Every person here exists because the others need them.

That is the truth of humanity.”

“So what? You’re saying the Council was right?”

Ravon’s voice trembled.

“The Council does what it does to survive.

The incident with your mother was unfortunate but…

When the resources fall, humanity becomes… selective.

You were more important than your mother; this is why you survived and your mother… did not.”

“Are you… justifying their actions?”

Ravon asked, his voice trembling.

“No.

What they did was wrong.

It was cruel. Unforgivable even.”

Kael shook his head slowly. He then paused, stepping closer until his shadow fell over the kneeling Ravon.

“But that is where I come in.”

Ravon blinked, looking up, unsure if he heard him right.

And that’s when his expression changed. Seeing that change, Kael nodded—

“Why do you think I gave the authority to summon Divine Rations to the old?”

He asked.

Ravon’s eyes widened slightly.

“I gave them a role,”

Kael said softly.

“A purpose.

In this cruel, heartless world, survival depends on being useful.

So I made them indispensable.

Not as soldiers, not as tools—but as caretakers, teachers, and reminders of what we fight to protect.

They now feed the young.

And in turn, the young will protect them.”

The man’s breath trembled as he stared at Kael.

His hatred… it began to fade, replaced by something he couldn’t name.

Kael’s voice deepened, echoing through the chamber.

“You ask why I chose the Velmourns, did you not?”

Ravon nodded weakly, barely holding Kael’s gaze.

“It is because the Velmourns are the only people I could help,”

Kael said.

“The only ones who, despite all their flaws, still possess something precious.”

He paused, his eyes glowing faintly under the dim orange light.

“Unity.

The will to stay together, even in misery.

The will to endure.”

Ravon stared, his throat tightening.

“But you,”

Kael said quietly,

“Your actions have cracked that unity.”

The words tore through Ravon’s body. The anger that had once burned so bright now collapsed into shame.

He lowered his head again, tears mixing with the blood on his face.

“I… just wanted justice…”

He whispered.

“Justice through… betrayal?”

Kael asked, and for a moment, there was silence.

And in that silence—Ravon broke.

His breath came in shallow gasps, his shoulders trembled, and his chained hands hung limp beside him.

“I… was wrong…”

The words slipped out like broken glass.

“I was wrong… I was wrong…”

He said it again and again, his voice trembling, his forehead touching the cold stone floor. At first, the words were quiet, almost inaudible. But soon, they grew louder, rougher, until his voice echoed through the small chamber like a chant of regret.

Kael stood still, his eyes fixed on the man before him.

And finally—

“Enough.”

The single word cut through the heavy air like a blade.

Ravon froze mid-breath, his body stiff. Slowly, he raised his head, his face streaked with tears and grime.

Kael’s eyes remained calm.

“Now,”

Kael said evenly,

“You will correct your wrongs and answer my questions.”

Ravon swallowed hard and nodded weakly.

Kael took a step forward. The faint light from the gemstones flickered across his face.

“Who were you in contact with?”

“…The Stormcallers.”

Ravon answered, lowering his head in shame.

“The Stormcaller Tribe?”

Kael’s gaze sharpened.

“Yes… them.”

Ravon nodded quickly.

“How did you come into contact with them?”

Kael asked as he folded his arms.

Ravon hesitated, as though struggling to remember where to start.

“It began… more than a year ago,”

He said finally, his voice low.

“There was a merchant… who sometimes traded near the eastern gates. He said he could bring medicine, food, and tools from beyond the mountains. I thought he was just another liar at first, but…”

Ravon’s face twisted slightly.

“One day, he brought someone else with him—a man who wasn’t like the others.”

Kael stayed silent, waiting for him to continue.

“He was a Stormcaller.

I recognized him and I wanted to walk away, not wanting to associate with him any longer, but… at that time, I already knew the truth about the Iron Council. I blamed them and all of the Velmourns for killing my mother, and… I think the merchant had sensed it.

This is why he introduced me to him.

And… and talking to the Stormcaller wasn’t difficult either; he knew our language perfectly, making it easier for me to remain in contact.”

Ravon’s voice grew faster now, like a flood of confession he could no longer hold back.

“He told me that in exchange for information, he would give me supplies through the merchant—an arrangement even the merchant agreed to.

At first, I refused.

But then… then I thought about my mother. About how she died while the Council hoarded food.

I thought about all the others who died without even being remembered.”

He clenched his fists, the chains clinking again.

“I told myself if the Velmourns suffered, maybe it would balance things.

Maybe it would be justice.”

“You believed that destroying your people would bring justice.”

“I…

My hatred had already confused me. I wanted to destroy the Velmourns, even if it meant my own end, so I…

So I gave them what they wanted without anything in return.”

“How long?”

Kael asked.

Ravon swallowed hard.

“A year… maybe longer. I sent them everything I could. Patrol routes. Supply numbers. Council movements. Even troop shifts. I… I used an artifact the merchant gave me.”

“The silver token.”

“Yes, when I poured mana into it, I could speak directly to them. I don’t know how it worked… but it did.”

Ravon answered, and for a moment—there was silence.

And this silence lasted.

Kael didn’t speak because he was thinking, and Ravon… he had entirely different thoughts in his head, thoughts that he voiced out a minute later.

“Lord Kael…”

He called out, lowering his head again, his forehead pressing to the cold ground.

Kael looked at him and he—

“Please… allow me to die.”

He bowed deeper, his chains rattling loudly against the stone.

“Let me be an example to others.

My body is broken, my strength gone. I can’t fight, I can’t serve. I would only be a burden.

End me, Lord Kael… end me, and let my death be of some use to the Velmourns.”

The room fell quiet.

Kael looked down at the man kneeling before him, his blood mixing with tears on the floor. For a moment, it almost looked as though he would grant his request.

But then—

“No.”

Kael shook his head.

Ravon’s eyes widened.

“…No?”

Kael’s voice still lacked emotion.

“This is not how we treat traitors.”

Ravon blinked as he raised his head, his confusion clear on his face. Kael turned slightly, his silhouette framed against the faint gem light.

“We have better uses for them.”

“Better… uses?”

Ravon looked up slowly.

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