When the Sleeping Dragon Woke

Chapter 1

The afternoon sun in Duskhaven City struggled to pierce through the grime-streaked windows of the apartment, casting long, sickly shadows across the worn linoleum. Dominic Mylod, a man whose tall, six-foot frame seemed incongruously large for the submissive, vacant-eyed shell he had become, was hunched over a mop.

"Dominic, get your useless hide over here and dump this footbath right now!"

Carvel sat regally in her armchair, her face twisted into a mask of habitual disdain as she glared at her son-in-law. To her, he was not a human being but a repulsive, expensive stain on the Flynn family’s reputation.

Dominic flinched, the mop clattering against the plastic bucket. "Mom... what is it? I was just finishing the floor..."

Slap!

"When I tell you to move, you move! Do you think I have all day to wait for a mindless beast like you?" she spat, her eyes flashing with a cruel, erratic energy.

Dominic whimpered, clutching his stinging face with a shaking hand. He didn't fight back; he didn't even look angry. There was only a heartbreaking, infantile confusion in his gaze. "I... I was just mopping..."

"Mopping? You're a burden, that’s what you are! A useless, mouth-breathing anchor dragging this family into the dirt!" Carvel screamed, her frustration boiling over. "All you do is eat our food and take up space. Now, take this water and get it out of my sight before I lose my mind!"

Dominic reached down with shaking hands to lift the heavy plastic basin filled with lukewarm, gray water. His muscles, though naturally powerful, felt uncoordinated under the weight of his terror.

"Useless trash!" she hissed.

The sudden, sharp pain caused Dominic’s grip to fail. The basin slipped, hitting the floor with a heavy, wet thud. A wave of dirty water erupted across the hardwood, soaking the rug and splashing onto Carvel’s expensive slippers.

For a second, the room was eerily silent. Then, Carvel erupted. She grabbed a heavy wooden broom leaning against the wall and began raining blows down upon Dominic’s back and shoulders with terrifying speed.

"You did that on purpose! You’re trying to defy me, aren't you? You think you can be stubborn with me just because Sienna isn't home?"

"No! Please! Stop! It hurts!" Dominic collapsed into a fetal position on the wet floor, shielding his head with his massive arms.

Carvel didn't stop until she was breathless and her arm ached. She looked down at him and leaned over, spitting directly onto his matted hair. "Pah! Look at you. A waste of skin. "

Dominic remained huddled on the floor, shivering violently. This was a grim, daily ritual in the household—a cycle of a***e that had lasted for three years.

The front door creaked open, and the cold evening air of Duskhaven City drifted in. Sienna Flynn stepped inside, her face weary from a long shift at Prymus Company. She hadn't even kicked off her heels when the sound of sobbing reached her ears.

"What's going on now?" Sienna asked, her brow furrowing with immediate concern as she took in the scene of chaos.

"Wooo... Mom... I'm sorry... I won't do it again..." Dominic wailed from the floor, unable to control his tremors.

Sienna knelt beside him, her fingers gently brushing the hair away from his forehead. "Are you okay, Dominic? Did she hurt you badly?"

Dominic started to nod, but a sharp, terrifying glance from Carvel made him violently shake his head instead. He pulled away, terrified that even receiving comfort would earn him another beating once Sienna left the room.

Sienna stood up, her eyes blazing as she turned to her mother. "Mom, why do you keep doing this? Why do you have to lay hands on him?"

Carvel planted her hands on her hips, completely unrepentant. "If I don't beat some sense into him, who will? He’s a constant eyesore. If he died tomorrow, it would be a mercy for all of us. The house would finally be quiet, and we wouldn't be the laughingstock of the district."

"Mom, how can you say that?" Sienna’s voice rose in a rare display of defiance. "Three years ago, if Dominic hadn't thrown himself in front of that truck, I would have been killed instantly. He saved my life! He ended up like this because of me. How can you be so heartless to the man who gave his mind to save your daughter?"

"And for three years, we've paid the price for that moment of stupidity!" Carvel countered, her voice shrill. "We’ve fed him, clothed him, and humoured his idiocy. And look at him! He's still a vegetable. For all we know, he was a moron before the accident and just used it as an excuse to leech off a wealthy family."

Sienna took a deep breath, trying to steady her racing heart. The financial pressure on the Flynn family was immense, and she knew her mother blamed Dominic for their declining status. "Mom, that’s cruel and you know it. I work myself to the bone every day at Prymus Company to keep us afloat and to handle our debts. All I ask is that you treat him with a shred of humanity. For the sake of my conscience, please."

Carvel sighed, rolling her eyes. "You really think of him as a husband? Sienna, look at yourself. You are one of the most beautiful women in this city. You’re wasting your prime years on a man who can’t even tie his own shoes. Is it worth it?"

"My life, my choice," Sienna said firmly.

A notification chimed on Sienna’s phone—a business emergency. She sighed, reaching into her purse and pulling out a fifty-dollar bill. She pressed it into Dominic’s hand, closing his fingers over the paper. "Hey, look at me. Don't cry, okay? Take this. Go out and get yourself something to eat. Get away from the house for a bit."

Dominic looked at the money, then shot a fearful look at Carvel.

"Don't look at her," Sienna whispered, stroking his head one last time. "You love those fried snacks from the street market, right? Go buy some. I have to head back to the office for a meeting at Vireo Coporation. It's a massive contract, and it’s going to be a long night. I might be late."

She turned back to her mother, her expression hardening. "I’m serious, Mom. Do not touch him while I'm gone."

Carvel waved her off dismissively. "Just go. Looking at his face gives me a migraine anyway. I wish that truck had just finished the job three years ago."

"Give me that money," Carvel demanded, her hand outstretched.

"No... Sienna gave it to me," Dominic stammered, clutching the bill to his chest like a sacred relic.

"You stupid brat! You think you have a right to currency? Give it here!" Carvel lunged for him, her fingers clawing at his arms.

Dominic, driven by a sudden burst of protective instinct for the only kindness he knew, bolted for the door.

"Get back here!" Carvel screamed, chasing him into the hallway.

Dominic reached the top of the stairwell just as Carvel caught up. In her rage, she lunged forward and delivered a powerful shove to his shoulder. "You worthless freak!"

Dominic’s foot missed the edge of the top step. He tumbled backward, his large frame bouncing violently off the wooden stairs. Thud. c***k. Thud. He rolled down the entire flight, his momentum finally ending when his forehead slammed into the sharp corner of the wall at the bottom.

Carvel froze at the top of the stairs, her breath catching. She watched as a pool of crimson began to spread across the floor tiles. "Oh... god." She looked around frantically. No witnesses. Her panic quickly solidified into a cold, calculating resolve. "Fine. If he's dead, he's dead. I'll tell the police the fool tripped over his own feet. Who’s going to take the word of a corpse over mine?"

The blood flowed freely now, warm and thick. It traced a path down Dominic’s forehead, dripping onto his chest. It soaked through his cheap shirt and pooled over a faint, jagged scar over his heart—a mark shaped like an ancient, stylized character. This was the Supreme Tattoo, the mark of the Mylod lineage.

As the blood touched the skin of the mark, the air in the hallway seemed to hum. The faint red lines of the tattoo suddenly flared with a blinding, ethereal light.

Thump.

Dominic’s heart, which had been slowing, suddenly kicked into a powerful, rhythmic gallop. Inside his mind, the fog wasn't just lifting—it was being incinerated. Memories, combat techniques, geopolitical strategies, and the weight of absolute power came rushing back like a tidal wave.

Slowly, the man on the floor opened his eyes. The bones in his body began to pop and realign, his muscles tightening with a vitality that had been suppressed for a thousand days.

He sat up with a fluid, predatory grace.

"I am the Lord of the Dragon Temple," he whispered, his voice now a deep, resonant baritone. "I am Lord Mylod."

The memories were crystal clear now. Three years ago, he had led the world's most formidable underground organization, the Dragon Temple, to dismantle the largest d**g cartel in Europe. For his efforts in stabilizing global security, he had been privately honored by international authorities. He had come to Duskhaven City to finish the job—to hunt down the cartel’s kingpin who was hiding in the shadows of the city's elite.

He remembered the truck. He remembered Sienna frozen in the path of death. He had saved her, but the impact had shattered his physical form and locked his consciousness behind a wall of trauma. For three years, he had been a prisoner in his own mind. He remembered everything. He remembered the spit on his head. He remembered the broom handle. But most of all, he remembered the woman who had protected a "broken" man when the rest of the world wanted him discarded.

"Sienna," he murmured. "From this moment on, I am your shield. I will make you the most envied woman on this planet."

"Lord? Is... is that you? Can it truly be you?" The voice on the other end was thick with emotion, belonging to Henry Croft, the man who ran the massive Vireo Coporation but who was, in reality, merely a servant of the Dragon Temple.

"It's me," Dominic said, his tone cold and commanding. "I'm back. I'm currently in Duskhaven City."

"Lord! Praise the heavens! I’m coming to you immediately! Where are you?" Mr. Croft sounded like he was on the verge of tears.

"Don't come to my house. Meet me at the Vireo Coporation headquarters. My wife has a meeting there tonight. It’s time we settled some accounts."