The Dragon King and His Fallen Star novel Chapter 170

Chapter 170: The Last Pyre

EIRLYS’ POV.

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The torch was heavier than it seemed. Not from its wood or fire, but for the burden of justice it

bore, the reckoning it promised.

Ulyanna’s hand lingered for a heartbeat before releasing the torch. I closed my fingers around the rough wood, feeling its warmth seep through the grain, into my bones.

Then Kierygan’s fingers grazed my wrist. “You can do this,” he said quietly.

I nodded. My throat had no words, only a tight, unbearable knot.

wwww!

Step by step, I walked toward the pyre. The smell of smoke and burned pitch clung to the air, carried from the other fires.

The Light Reaper lifted his head as I approached. Even on the edge of death, he wore that same defiant look. As if none of this mattered, as if he might rise from the ashes once more.

My pulse thundered in my ears. I raised the torch.

Then suddenly, a stone cut through the air and struck the Light Reaper’s forehead with a dull crack. He jerked, more startled than hurt. My gaze snapped toward the source.

A scrawny boy appeared, no more than ten. His clothes hung in tatters, soot streaked his face, and tears carved dark lines down his cheeks. In his arms, a younger child clung desperately, hiding her face against his shoulder.

The boy trembled, but his eyes blazed with a heat fiercer than any flame I carried.

“Mama and Papa… they’re dead because of him,” he said, voice small but piercing, slicing through the stunned silence that seemed to wrap the valley in its hold.

My chest tightened at the boy’s words. The grief he carried felt far too heavy for someone so small. My fingers curled around the torch, knuckles white, but I didn’t move.

Orryx appeared behind him, nudging the boy gently “Come with me, boy,” he said. “We’ll make sure the bad man pays for what he did.”

The boy hesitated, his furious eyes never leaving the Light Reaper. Just as Orryx was able to sway him backward, a stone arced through the air and struck the Reaper’s shoulder. My head snapped up, startled.

A woman stepped forward from the crowd, middle aged, her eyes blazing with grief and anger.

Her hand was raised, trembling, but her voice rang out clear and sharp: “My husband… my daughter

dead because of the blight.”

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Chapter 170. The Last Pyre

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And then came another stone. Another voice. Another loss. And then another. One by one, people stepped forward-men and women, young and old each throwing stones, each punctuating their

words with grief and revelation. They spoke of what had been taken, what had burned, what had vanished at the hands of the Light Reaper.

I didn’t stop them. I stepped aside, giving them space.

This was theirs too, just as it was mine.

I could give them a fleeting measure of relief, a shard of control after so much had been ripped

away. A chance to name their pain, to hurl it back at the one who had caused it.

By the time the last stone fell, the crowd had gone still again. The air was thick with dust and rage and the sharp scent of blood.

The Light Reaper sagged against his chains. Bruised, bloodied, and barely upright. One eye had swollen shut; his lips were split, slick with crimson. Yet he still breathed.

He hadn’t screamed. He hadn’t begged. Not once.

Just low groans and sharp grunts when the stones struck bone. He endured it as though the pain meant nothing, as though the suffering of others had made him immune to his own.

I raised the torch again, feeling its heat lick against my face. The crowd’s fury simmered behind me, but all I saw was him.

I stepped closer to the pyre.

The Light Reaper lifted his head, his one good eye fixing on me. Slowly, his lips curved into a grin. Crooked and cruel. Somehow still full of pride.

“Yes,” he rasped, voice raw and rasping through the blood in his throat. “Yes, I did everything they said.”

The grin widened, splitting the dried blood at the corner of his mouth. “And I enjoyed it. Draining the light out of them, watching their bodies twist and fade… hearing their screams turn to silence.”

The air seemed to turn colder around us.

He tilted his head, eyes glinting with a terrible, fevered madness. “But,” he whispered, his voice slicing through the stillness like a blade, “do you know which light was the sweetest to snuff out?”

My heart lurched.

He leaned forward, just enough for the words to find me.

“Your mother’s,” he said with a low, twisted laugh. “Queen Astraea may have passed her grain of light to you, but her essence…” His smile spread, feral and cruel. “…was delicious.”

“Shut up!” The words ripped out of me before I knew I’d spoken. “Don’t you dare speak her name.

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Chapter 170: The Last Pyre

Not with your filthy mouth.”

Kierygan’s voice came low from behind me. “Eirlys,” he warned, “don’t let him in your head.”

I froze, chest heaving. Light danced across my skin. Not the soft glow I wanted, but a crackling spark, angry and raw. Kierygan was right. This was exactly what the Light Reaper wanted: my light, a feed for his hunger.

I forced myself to breathe, to smother the flare of fury that wanted to tear out. I ground my will

down until the crackling dimmed.

“Do it now,” Kierygan said, tight, commanding. “End this.”

But the Light Reaper only laughed. “Yes, Eirlys,” he hissed, his voice hoarse but sharp as poison.

། རྟག་

Do it. Burn me. And you’ll never know what I discovered about you.”

“Don’t listen to him,” Kierygan growled, his tone a low warning.

The Reaper’s bloodied lips twisted into a grin. “Seems your dragon mate doesn’t want you to know, ” he taunted, eyes gleaming with cruel delight. “Curious, isn’t it? Maybe he fears the truth too.”

“What truth?” I demanded.

My pulse faltered, a jolt of curiosity and fear racing through me. I searched Kierygan’s face, desperate for a hint of truth in the Light Reaper’s words. But his expression remained hard,

unreadable.

The Light Reaper chuckled-a low, rattling sound that made my skin crawl. “It doesn’t matter,” he said. “You’ll know soon enough.”

His gaze locked on mine-burning, sharp, and cruelly knowing. “Soon you’ll learn,” he rasped, “that your mother… that pristine, fae queen they all worshiped… broke one of the oldest, most sacred laws of the universe. And you, little star, will be the one to pay the price.”

I froze, my chest tight with confusion and curiosity. What the hell are you talking about?!” I yelled, every ounce of frustration raw in my voice.

புக

“Enough!” Kierygan’s voice thundered beside me. He stepped forward, his hand closing firmly around my wrist. “He’s lying, Eirlys. He’s baiting you

Kierygan guided my arm forward. For a moment, I hesitated. Part of me still wanted to know what the Light Reaper meant. What he claimed he’d discovered about me. But the other part… the weary, aching part… only wanted this to end.

When Kierygan’s grip tightened around my wrist, I drew in a slow breath and lowered the torch toward the pyre.

The flame caught the dry wood with a sudden roar. Flames erupted instantly, devouring the

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< Chapter 170 The Last Pyre

kindling, climbing until the Light Reaper was swallowed whole.

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For a heartbeat, something like peace flickered across his face-then twisted into a cruel, mocking

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