Dragon King's Harem Chapter 344. Al's Coping Mechanism

Dragon King's Harem Chapter 344. Al's Coping Mechanism

His smile gradually faded, replaced by a melancholy look that spoke volumes of the pain and regret he harbored within. “Plus, I have a bone to pick with him, remember? I don't like him,” he stated matter-of-factly. However, his smile quickly faded, replaced by a melancholic expression filled with both sadness and anger. The depth of his emotions was palpable, resonating with a sense of pain and regret. “No… I hate him. And the fact that he doesn't even remember my face indicates how insignificant I am in his eyes. It's truly heartbreaking,” he confessed in a softer voice.

I understood all too well what lay beneath his sorrowful facade. It was the tragic loss of Al's family at the hands of the lizard tribe, a wound that ran deep and festered with unresolved pain. Just as in my own experience, instead of seeking justice, Viperax had callously disregarded Al's suffering, even going so far as to condemn him to death at the hands of the witch king.

"It's a shame I haven't been able to make him take accountability for what he did to your family," I said, my tone heavy with regret as I reflected on Al's painful past.

A sad smile tugged at the corners of Al's lips, but his eyes betrayed the weight of his unresolved emotions. “Don't worry about it, Your Majesty. I've accepted it,” he replied, his voice tinged with bitterness.

I knew better than to believe his words at face value. The pain of losing his family ran deep, etched into the very fabric of his being. Despite his attempts to mask his anguish with a facade of acceptance, I could see the lingering sorrow that shadowed his every expression.

Al's coping mechanism was as clear as day to me. He may have outwardly appeared to have moved on, but the pain of his loss still gnawed at his soul. It was evident in the subtle tributes he paid to his late brother, such as naming his favorite cauldron after him.

Unfortunately, the tragedy that befell the Al family had occurred within the Witch tribe's territory, rendering it an internal matter for their tribe to resolve. As much as I empathized with Al's plight, my authority as the Dragon King did not extend to intervening in the affairs of other tribes unless certain conditions were met.

Despite my desire to offer Al the justice he deserved, I was bound by the limitations of tribal sovereignty and the delicate balance of power between the tribes.

"Oh right," Al said, attempting to lighten the mood with a playful quip. "Increase my portion of cookies as payment. I demand one plateful of it as an addition to my snack," he added, his expression cool and composed despite the whimsical nature of his request.

I couldn't help but chuckle at his sudden request. It was a stark contrast to the weighty conversation we had just moments ago. "Fine, just order Sarah after we get back," I agreed, already envisioning the indulgent treat that awaited Al upon our return.

There was a bittersweet familiarity with Al's craving for sweets. It was a small comfort. The taste of cookies held memories of happier times, of moments spent with his beloved family.

His messy room, too, served as a poignant reminder of the life he had left behind. Though it differed from his previous residence, there was a sense of familiarity that offered him a semblance of peace. In the chaos of his surroundings, he found a sense of belonging.

As for Al's playful demeanor, it was a stark departure from the stoic facade he had once presented. When the real Argod met him, he had been consumed by grief and guilt, weighed down by the burden of his past. But over time, I had witnessed a gradual transformation—a shedding of the armor he had worn for so long, replaced by a newfound sense of freedom and self-expression.

His childish antics were not a sign of immaturity, but rather a coping mechanism—a way for him to navigate the complexities of his emotions and find moments of levity amidst the darkness.

After Al's nod of acknowledgment, I shifted my attention to my surroundings, scanning the tent for any signs of distress or urgency. My gaze settled on Evelina, who was immersed in her task of tending to the wounded dragon before her.

Her hands were steady as they hovered over the dragon's massive form, her fingers emitting a soft, ethereal glow. The crystal atop her staff shimmered with gentle radiance, amplifying the healing energy that flowed from her touch. Despite the gravity of the situation, Evelina remained composed, her focus was clear as she directed her powers toward the injured creature.

I could see the furrow of her brows, a sign of the concentration and effort required to channel her healing magic effectively. Yet, despite her best efforts, there were limits to what even she could achieve. The wounds inflicted upon the dragon were severe, the damage irreparable. Missing limbs and severed wings remained as painful reminders of the brutality they had endured. No amount of magic could erase the scars that marred the dragon's once majestic form.

Despite her skill and dedication, Evelina could only do so much to alleviate the dragon's pain. There were some wounds that could never fully heal, some losses that could never be undone.

I stood there for a moment, contemplating my next move. On one hand, I didn't want to disrupt Evelina's concentration or add to her burden. But on the other hand, I couldn't shake the feeling that walking away without offering my assistance might only serve to further isolate her in her moment of need.

With a sigh, I weighed my options, searching for the best course of action that would both respect her space and convey my willingness to help. After a moment of hesitation, I made a decision and took a step forward.