Threat

Seeing the crowd's fervor mount, Count Brandon wasted no time fanning the flames, his voice ringing out even louder. "Citizens assembled here! Four hundred years ago, Lord Terry Lakeman rode a giant eagle and led our ancestors to this land, founding the original Northwind Keep. Back then, there were a mere three hundred souls. "Across four magnificent centuries, we have weathered countless trials of blood and fire. Generation after generation, our forebears gave their precious lives so that this majestic, splendid city could stand proud upon the earth. This city carries the glorious history of our ancestors; this city carries the happiness of our lives; and above all, it is our sanctuary... "Now, every single person here shares but one identity—citizens of Northwind Keep. "We must never let it fall into the clutches of the evil dragon!" Brandon swept his silver sword through the air in a gleaming arc. "For Northwind Keep!" The crowd's passion soared even higher. After all, they had yet to lay eyes on the enemy; they had only heard this textbook pre-battle rally and been swayed by the count's "heartfelt" words. Watching the roaring throng, Count Brandon caught his breath, thinking to himself, *I only hope they can hold out a little longer—long enough for His Grace to finish the ritual.* "For Northwind Keep! For Northwind Keep!" "Slay the evil dragon! Protect our families!" The cheers rolled on. Soldiers thrust their spears high, resolved to fight for their daughters' futures; merchants threw up their fists, determined to battle for their wives' happiness and their own... "*Roaaar—*" A long, reverberating roar cut through the air, drowning out their cheers. A chill of instinctive dread struck deep into every heart. Wyverns swarmed across the heavens, blotting out the sky and smothering the sunlight. They surged from the horizon like a black tide, screeching in harsh, discordant cacophony. "Damn it! Aim the ballistas!" "Shoot them down!" Yet the monsters flew far too high for the defensive ballistas to reach. Only a single, lower-flying wyvern took a glancing hit, plummeting toward the earth with an agonizing screech. Moments later, the wyverns parted of their own accord. A colossal red dragon hung in the sky, slowly beating his massive wings. With his back to the sun, the red dragon seemed ringed in a halo of incandescent flame. Under the influence of magic, a shadow far greater than his actual form fell across the ground, pressing down upon the populace with crushing weight. The people craned their necks, staring into those brilliant golden slit pupils visible even from a hundred meters away. Unbidden, rumors of the Infernal Scourge incinerating thirty thousand coalition troops flashed through their minds. A soldier's hand shook until his spear slipped, clattering against the paving stones. A merchant shrank behind his wife, trembling violently in terror that the monster aloft might notice him. Now that this terrifying dragon had truly descended before their eyes, every scrap of earlier ambition was swept away. The count's impassioned speech vanished from their thoughts entirely. After all—this was a threat that could truly mean death. To their astonishment, the great dragon in the sky spoke. "A rather splendid speech, if a bit trite. For a moment, I thought I had returned to the Second Era." Brandon stared up into the heavens. Even as a formidable warrior, standing before the red dragon caused cold sweat to stream down his brow. "Evil dragon, do not dream of deceiving the citizens of Northwind Keep!" he roared toward the sky, mustering every ounce of his courage. "Deceiving?" Cassius's voice carried a faint trace of mockery. "I believe you are describing yourself. Feeding them seemingly noble yet utter rubbish excuses, duping them into serving as cannon fodder for that old vampire you serve—a clever little scheme indeed." This secret had long been suppressed by the city garrison, yet many had already suspected the truth. Now, the red dragon voiced it with utter disregard. Brandon could bear it no longer. Pointing toward the sky, he yelled furiously, "Slander! That is blatant slander!" Cassius paid him no heed. Instead, he projected the magical imagery of the blood thralls within the bunker directly into the sky. "Behold, everyone. This is the handiwork of the revered Duke you so loyally serve: turning your closest kin into blood-sucking beasts. Sacrificing your life for the nobility is pathetic enough, but dying for a creature like that is the greatest joke of all. If you still wish to pledge your loyalty and throw away your lives for him, then by all means, proceed." A sinister grin crept across the red dragon's maw. "However, I did not come here to debate that. I came to deliver an announcement: If the gates are not thrown open and white flags flying before dusk, fire will reduce everything here to ash. Whether your parents, your spouses, or your children, none will be spared. All treated equally. "Mark my words— "This is not a negotiation. It is an ultimatum." The black tide of wyverns pulled back, and having delivered his final warning, the red dragon vanished into the distance. As he departed, Cassius mused to himself, *Is that story-spinning bard some kind of lunatic? Am I really such an uncivilized dragon? Even if one eats people, one should observe basic hygiene. Doing things that way, even ogres would find it hard to stomach... No, when I find the chance, I must capture him and give him a proper taste of agony.* The red dragon had no desire to raze this city known as the Pearl of the North. This was slated to become the future capital for the players, the starting station of his empire. For that reason, he opted to encircle rather than assault, utilizing intimidation and psychological warfare to spare the city outright ruin. His demonstration of sheer might had already been achieved after the Battle of Trier. What he needed now was to solidify his rule and build a true, multifaceted empire. Down in the square, Count Brandon's expression turned grim. He looked across the agitated crowd, meeting eyes filled with panic, dread, and wavering doubt. He knew matters had already slipped beyond control. Truth be told, the red dragon's threat was extraordinarily persuasive—he had, after all, just annihilated a coalition army of thirty thousand. Brandon's own speech had backfired, serving as damning corroboration that only bolstered the dragon's credibility. *His Grace said we must hold out until night falls.* *That is my duty.* At that thought, a cruel ruthlessness surfaced on Count Brandon's face. Shedding his mask of amiability and warmth, he looked down upon the unsettled populace with cold, haughty contempt. In a chilling tone, he declared, "Citizens, remain calm! Do not heed the evil dragon's lies! "Anyone who defies orders or dares incite rebellion—shall be put to death!" The count's personal guards swiftly seized control of the grounds. Yet Eagle Square was not alone; countless souls throughout the city had heard the red dragon's ultimatum loud and clear. They reacted in vastly different ways: some barricaded themselves at home in silence, others rushed to the battlements to confer with acquaintances, and a daring few were already turning their blades upon House Lakeman's gray-robed inquisitors. In an instant, turbulent undercurrents surged throughout the city.