Crispychapati

In a dying kingdom where faith rots in the temples and crowns are rusting on old heads, one boy is given a second chance—reborn into the crumbling noble House Aldercrest.

Theodric was once a modern man, a brilliant mind suffocated by grief and a world that no longer held meaning. But now, in a realm of swords, subtle magic, and ancient bloodlines, he awakens as the only heir to a doomed duchy. With nothing but the memories of his past life, the love of his new parents, and a lion-headed crest barely clinging to honor, Theo makes a vow: he will not live quietly.

Six years later, the world begins to stir.

Armed with the knowledge of finance, innovation, and manipulation, Theo overturns tradition, challenges kings, builds watches to fund revolutions—and uncovers corruption rotting from the throne to the altar. And when the blade of betrayal falls... it is not Theo who burns.

A dragon hatches. A god awakens. A new empire begins.

As foreign nations whisper his name and allies grow uneasy, Theo does not blink. For he is no longer just a duke. He is the storm behind the banner, the fire behind the throne.

He is the Dragon Duke.

In a world that forgot the future,
one man will forge it from steel, gold, and flame.

The Lord Of Tommorow

The carriage jolted slightly as the road evened out, gravel shifting beneath iron wheels. Theo sat with his gloves in his hand, fingers tapping lightly on his knee, his thoughts a maelstrom.

Four days on the road had given him too much time to think.

Across from him, Elric exhaled sharply and shook his head.

"All this ruckus over a gods-damned watch," he muttered. "Can you believe it? A trinket to tell time, and suddenly the Crown acts like we've reinvented alchemy."

Lira gave a tired chuckle as she stretched her arms. "We did nothing wrong. We just made the wrong thing first. Imagine if we'd opened a vineyard instead. We'd be getting awards, not summons."

Theo smirked faintly. "Apparently, tracking hours is more threatening than drinking them away."

"But it's ridiculous," Elric continued, rubbing his temple. "A wristwatch? Really? The bloody Church called it a symbol of hubris. And the Chancellor? Said it 'disrupts the rhythm ordained by the divine sun.' What does that even mean?"

"Means they're scared," Theo said simply.

He looked out the window again. Trees thinned. Roads widened. The scent of pine gave way to smoke, spice, and something metallic in the air. Civilization was close.

"They don't fear the watch," he added. "They fear what it represents. That we're thinking ahead. That we're not waiting for permission."

Silence fell for a while after that.

They spoke of logistics. Of the guild's expansion. Of shipments delayed by the sudden trip. Of the audits on hold. Of the farmers they hadn't yet trained, the second crop cycle they couldn't oversee.

"We were so close," Lira said, her tone sharper now. "Crop rotation trials were working. The smiths finally understood how to fix the crystal components in the casing. We had a design ready for the merchant class. We were ready to roll it out."

"And instead," Elric added bitterly, "we're riding into a gilded den of bastards who still think time should be rung on bells by robed men in towers."

He simply looked forward… as the carriage crested the last hill.

The capital of the Kingdom of Dravareth.

A city of marble spires, gilded towers, and velvet facades. Its great curtain walls stretched like arms around a jewel-box of ambition, blood, and ancient tradition. Banners fluttered. Flags rose. And beyond them—looming above all—was the High Keep of the Crown, where kings ruled and secrets died.

It shimmered beneath the sun like it was untouched by time.

He let the curtain fall gently back over the window.

The time for performance had begun.

"Straighten your collars," he said, voice quiet but firm. "Polish your tongues. Remember who we are."

And the curtain rose on the court of wolves.

Chapter 11