Chapter 26: Fraud
Akane leaned in close, her voice barely above a whisper. "Ranma, I need to talk to the Goddess."
Ranma turned his head slightly, catching the urgency in her tone. His brows knit together, and he was just about to reach out and get the Goddess's attention when—
BOOM.
The heavy doors at the entrance of the banquet hall swung open with a force that sent a hush rippling through the room. Every noble, every royal, every guest froze in place as the servants stepped forward, their voices carrying through the silence.
"Presenting His Majesty, King Gosunkugi of Shiryia."
A chill ran down Ranma's spine.
For a moment, no one moved. No one spoke.
It was as if the entire hall was collectively holding its breath.
The Shiryian king—a man no one in the room had ever seen before—was about to enter a place no Shiryian had ever set foot in.
Ranma barely had time to process the weight of the moment before a different kind of tension pulled his focus.
Akane.
She had gone pale, her fingers gripping the fabric of her dress so tightly her knuckles turned white. Her breathing had become shallow, and in the flickering candlelight of the grand hall, Ranma could see the unmistakable tremble in her shoulders.
Ranma didn't think—he acted.
Shifting in his seat, he subtly angled his body toward Akane, his knee pressing lightly against hers beneath the table. A silent anchor. A reminder that she wasn't alone.
Akane didn't react. She sat rigid, her wide, fearful eyes locked onto the open doorway, her breathing shallow and uneven.
Ranma's fingers twitched against the fabric of his sleeve, resisting the urge to grab her—shake her if he had to—just to snap her out of it. He wouldn't let her father take her back. He needed her to believe in him.
But instead, he turned his gaze toward the entrance, jaw clenched, shoulders squared.
Then, at long last, King Gosunkugi stepped into the hall.
Akane felt like the air had been sucked from the room.
For so long, she had pictured him as she last saw him—gaunt, sickly, barely able to stand without assistance. A man ravaged by pain, reliant on Prince Toma's elixir just to function.
But the man who stepped through the grand doors now was nothing like the frail specter she remembered.
King Gosunkugi stood tall, his frame no longer thin and weak but filled out with strength. His complexion, once sallow and sunken, was now smooth and full of life. His sharp black eyes swept across the silent hall, gleaming with amusement at the stunned faces before him.
A slow, arrogant smirk pulled at his lips as he took a deliberate step forward, the deep amber and black of his royal robes flowing behind him like a shadow.
"Well," he drawled, voice rich with condescension, "I must say, it is quite the spectacle to see so many of Alganon's finest gathered in one place." His smirk widened as his gaze flicked from noble to noble. "A rare occasion indeed."
The silence in the hall was deafening as if no one dared to breathe.
Akane's stomach twisted. She gritted her teeth, her nails digging into her palms beneath the table. This was the man who had torn her world apart. The man who held her family hostage like bargaining chips. The man who ordered the deaths of the soldiers who had fought beside her father in the rebellion.
And now, he was here—smug, self-assured, completely at ease.
How?
How was he standing before them looking healthy? Looking strong?
It made no sense.
As the guests continued to gawk at King Gosunkugi, Akane's breath froze at the sight of the young woman beside him.
She was beautiful—hauntingly so. Her long, nearly black brown hair cascaded down her back in perfect, silky waves, framing a delicate yet sharp-featured face. Her skin was pale, almost luminous beneath the grand chandeliers, and her eyes—bright grey-blue—stood out in stark contrast against the darkness of her hair.
But it wasn't just her beauty that made Akane's stomach churn.
It was her eyes.
The slitted pupils.
Just like The Goddess.
And the black scales.
They glimmered faintly under the warm glow of the banquet hall, climbing up her slender neck just like The Goddess's own.
Akane's pulse quickened. Who was this girl?
She stood with effortless grace beside the Shiryian King, her posture poised, her expression unreadable. But there was a presence about her—something unnerving in the way she seemed perfectly at ease in such an uncomfortable environment.
A murmur rippled through the gathered nobles, their hushed voices barely audible over the tense silence.
The Goddess took a step forward, her usual composed expression slipping into something dangerously close to shock. Her golden eyes locked onto the girl standing beside King Gosunkugi, the black scales on her neck glinting under the candlelight.
Her voice, usually commanding and resolute, wavered ever so slightly. "What is the meaning of this?" she demanded, her ethereal tone echoing through the hushed hall.
King Gosunkugi's lips curled into a slow, deliberate smile—one that reeked of triumph. His dark eyes swept over the assembled nobles before landing back on The Goddess, his voice rich with satisfaction.
"Ah, Ushio," he drawled, "why do you sound so surprised? My family has been striving for this moment for centuries."
"Do not call me my vessel's name!" The Goddess's voice boomed
Gosunkugi chuckled and spread his arms wide, like a man relishing the weight of his own victory.
"For too long, the people of Alganon have forgotten the truth of our history. The Shiryian royal line once stood unmatched, our influence stretching across the land. And yet, when your family succeeded where mine had not, everything changed." His smile sharpened, his voice thick with venom.
"It is no easy feat to find a vessel for the Dragon Spirits, as you well know. Your ancestors spent generations trying to call forth Mis Draak, casting aside countless failed vessels—leaving them broken, useless." He exhaled, shaking his head in mock lament. "And yet, you did what we could not. You sealed Mis Draak into your bloodline, ensuring your dominion over all."
The room felt heavier with every word he spoke. The tension, suffocating.
Then, his grin widened.
"But did you truly think we had given up?" His dark gaze flickered toward the girl at his side.
"It took centuries of careful effort. Generations of sacrifice. Even I was left impaired after I was a failed vessel. But at long last, we have succeeded. My daughter is the vessel," His voice dropped into something reverent, something near manic.
"Viale Draak has finally returned to us."
A hush fell over the hall, all eyes fixated on the girl with the black dragon's scales, her striking gaze unblinking, unreadable.
For the first time, in perhaps hundreds of years—Shirya had produced a vessel of its own.
The Goddess's expression hardened, her golden eyes narrowing as she took a step closer. Her voice, sharp as a blade, cut through the silence.
"Your daughter?" she repeated, skepticism dripping from every word. "We have always kept strict records of every royal birth, and I personally ensure their accuracy. How could you possibly have two daughters without us knowing?"
Her gaze flickered over to the girl with the scaled neck, then back to Gosunkugi, a deep suspicion settling over her features. "Shirya has never been exempt from this system. You agreed to compliance generations ago. So tell me, King Gosunkugi—how did this girl escape my notice?"
The air in the banquet hall had turned cold, the weight of The Goddess's piercing gaze pressing down on the entire assembly. The nobles and royals, once murmuring in disbelief, were now utterly silent, holding their breath as The Goddess's haunting voice cut through the tension like a blade.
"Your daughter?" The words were slow, deliberate, as if she were tasting their impossibility on her tongue. Her golden, slitted eyes burned into Gosunkugi, her voice echoing off the high ceilings. "That is not possible."
Gosunkugi smirked, standing tall despite the divine weight of her presence. "And yet, here she is."
The Goddess's gaze flickered to the girl at his side, the one with scales like her own, and a deep unease slithered down her spine. No. This couldn't be.
Her expression hardened, her voice rising in an unshakable decree. "We have always kept strict records of every royal birth in Alganon. Your nation, like all others, is bound by the Royal Birthright System. The Keepers visit your lands every year to verify the lineage of your so-called noble bloodlines. They would have seen her. They would have recorded her. No royal child is ever unaccounted for."
Gosunkugi's smirk widened, his arrogance barely contained. "Ah yes, The Keepers. Your precious watchdogs. But tell me, Goddess—how infallible are they, really?"
Her voice darkened with warning. "Do not insult me with nonsense."
She took a slow, deliberate step forward, the very ground beneath her seeming to pulse with her power. "Every royal child must undergo the Rite of Blood. It is performed before a Verifier—a priestess of my own selection—who records their existence into the Royal Archive. That record is permanent. Irrevocable. No magic can erase it. No deception can alter it. The bloodlines of Alganon are bound to me. Each nation is rewarded for a royal-blooded child with blessings for their lands and valuable resources. Everyone is heavily incentivized to truthyfully report royal births. How did you hide a child and WHY would you hide one?"
Gosunkugi gave an exaggerated sigh. "Yes, yes, your system is very impressive. And yet… here she stands." He gestured lazily toward the scaled girl, as if daring The Goddess to deny her existence.
The Goddess's fingers curled into fists at her sides. "Then how, King Gosunkugi? How could you have hidden an heir from me?"
Her voice was like thunder, shaking the very foundations of the hall. "Did you tamper with the Keepers? Kill them? Replace them? Did you claim she was stillborn? Or do you take me for a fool and expect me to believe that my divine Royal Archive somehow… missed her?"
She took another step closer, the hall crackling with the weight of her power. "Speak plainly. Because the only way this is possible is if you have committed an act of high treason."
The entire hall was suffocatingly still, every noble and royal too afraid to move, too afraid to breathe. No one had ever seen The Goddess angry. All eyes were on Gosunkugi, waiting for his answer.
But King Gosunkugi only chuckled, deep and knowing.
"Ah, Goddess…" His voice dripped with amusement, smooth and taunting. "You have ruled for so long, you've forgotten that not all of us play by your rules."
He took a slow step forward, his sharp eyes gleaming with triumph. "I know exactly why you keep such thorough records of royal births. You know the truth—the one thing that makes your power unshakable. Only high-born blood can serve as a vessel for a Dragon Spirit."
His smirk widened. "And how fortunate for you that all the royal families, except mine, bent their knees to Mis Draak. The moment your noble bloodline finally produced a worthy vessel, you were safe. Safe from ever having to contend with Viale Draak again. As long as my family failed to find a suitable vessel, your rule would remain unchallenged. There was a time when you must have felt so secure—watching my bloodline dwindle, struggling just to survive. We barely had enough heirs to keep our lineage alive, let alone produce a vessel."
His dark eyes glittered with something triumphant, something dangerous. "You thought time was on your side. That eventually, we would break. That we would surrender, submit, and accept your rule. Afterall, it can take thousands of years to find an appropriate vessel."
He let the silence stretch, let the weight of his words sink in before delivering the final blow.
"But you were wrong."
The room was deathly still.
"We succeeded."
His smirk deepened as he took another step forward. "And your greatest mistake? Thinking that our first concession to you was defeat. That when we accepted your laws, we did so honestly." He let out a slow, satisfied breath. "You were so concerned with ensuring that royal marriages and births followed your strict little rules… but you never stopped to think—never even considered—that the daughter I sent to marry Prince Ranma…"
His eyes met hers, and his voice dropped to a razor-sharp whisper.
"…was never mine."