Exchange

"You mean to say—that is a red dragon in the young stage of life, yet possessing the size of a very old red dragon, as well as the spellcasting capability to cast ninth-circle spells?" Although his face remained concealed, Dex's voice was laden with doubt. Small wonder he was so skeptical. This seasoned dragonslayer had hunted over a dozen chromatic dragons, three of which were red dragons alone. His footsteps had spanned the entire Feanso Continent, yet he had never encountered a dragon so preposterous. "Boy, are you playing games with us?" Beside him, Lano glared at Trischka, who had just finished reading the intelligence report. Clenching his great axe, the barbarian spoke in a decidedly hostile tone. Even Ingrid Garces, the gentle-featured female cleric, lightly tapped her scepter against the ground, producing a crisp click. "If your side, out of certain considerations, provides intelligence that does not match reality, we will not carry out this commission." Their words were aggressive and pressing; clearly, they had no intention of squandering their time in such a backwater corner. Under the focus of multiple gazes, Trischka grew visibly nervous. Sweat beaded across his forehead, and his hands holding the parchment trembled slightly. Even so, he maintained a basic composure and forced himself to speak: "The intelligence provided by the Principality of Bosque contains absolutely no error." "I stake my honor on it, and I would even swear before the altar of Amaunator," Grand Duke Leo added in a grave, resonant voice ringing with conviction. "We also have proof." As if suddenly remembering something, Trischka reached into a pouch at his side and carefully drew out a magic crystal. It was a relic left behind by Schroeder, the "Grey Hawk," and the sole precious visual recording of the Trier Massacre. With a flicker of faint light, a somewhat hazy magical projection materialized in midair. Everyone turned their eyes toward it. Billowing plumes of thick smoke choked the sky, and blazing fire melted the earth and scorched the heavens. Before a towering fire vortex a hundred meters high, the red dragon slowly beat his wings. With every sweep of those wings, the fiery tornado swelled with greater ferocity, and the sea of flames trapped tens of thousands of soldiers inside Trier Valley. "Gods above, how could we ever be enemies with such an entity?!" "Fire! There's fire everywhere!" "It burns..." "I—I can't breathe..." "Impossible! This is completely impossible!" From the image came the soldiers' agonized wails, ragged gasps, and desperate cries for help, along with Schroeder's own frantic, near-deranged muttering. When the projection concluded, the members of the Crimson Edge no longer wore expressions of aloof condescension. Their countenances had grown grave as well; even the hot-tempered barbarian Lano fell into deep thought. The atmosphere in the grand hall instantly congealed. At last, the wizard clad in blue-black robes—who had remained silent all this time—spoke up, shattering the tense quiet. "If I am not mistaken, that should be the eighth-circle spell Control Weather, and far more potent than ordinary versions of the spell. Under normal circumstances, only silver dragons that have reached the ancient stage can awaken such an innate spell. Yet this 'young' red dragon can actually cast it. "We generally refer to such beings as... dragon variants. "I once heard my mentor speak of them. Their greed is boundless; no longer satisfied with the natural gifts of dragonkind, they pursue even greater power through all manner of means. The most terrifying dragon variants can even bring about cataclysms on a multiversal scale." Dex gazed into the distance and said in a heavy voice, "Klein, if the target this time truly is such a monstrosity, then we will need to make far more preparations." He turned his head back, glanced at Grand Duke Leo standing behind them, and said word by word: "And one more thing. For this commission... that will cost extra." Backed by the legendary paladin's extraordinary charisma, his voice carried an irresistible weight. Grand Duke Leo's face darkened under a heavy pall of gloom, but he clenched his teeth and ultimately swallowed his words. After all, his very life and survival now depended on outsiders. He had no choice but to humble himself, even when forced to endure unprecedented humiliation. Endure. He had to endure. This was for the thousand-year foundation of the Principality of Bosque. *** Kingdom of Cinders, outskirts of Northwind Keep, Steel Dragonwing Palace. The ogre mage knelt on one knee before the dais like a mountain of flesh. "Master, this subordinate is truly filled with boundless admiration for your far-sighted wisdom. "The pawn you placed so casually—that half-elf ranger from the Harpers—has actually produced such tremendous results." Trump's skill at flattery had grown increasingly polished, hitting every subtle note so naturally that it never sounded grating to Cassius's ears. "Oh?" "What important intelligence has he brought?" For Trump to place so much weight on it, Cassius was naturally somewhat intrigued. The fawning smile on the ogre archmage's face vanished instantly, replaced by sheer gravity. He spoke in a low voice: "According to the information Richard provided, the Harpers are currently acting as intermediaries. They have contacted the silver dragon clan Melvold, seeking to enlist the strength of those silver dragons to stand against the Kingdom of Cinders. The elder of the Melvold clan—the ancient silver dragon Oszedro—also appears to be on the verge of awakening. He has slept for over thirty years." "Oszedro..." Cassius repeated the name. He had heard it mentioned before by Olivia; the ancient dragon seemed to be her grandfather. "Could they have already noticed Olivia's disappearance? "Well... it was bound to happen sooner or later." Silver dragons typically formed loosely knit family units or clans presided over by an older dragon known as an "elder." The elder offered counsel, resolved disputes, and coordinated any activities the clan might undertake as a collective. A single silver dragon clan could span an entire continent, and individual silver dragons might go decades without directly contacting other members of their kin. Yet even if an ancient silver dragon came in person, Cassius felt not the slightest fear. "Continue. What else?" "The Harpers have also reached out to Duke Fabrik Navarro, who garrisons the northern border of the Fadlan Empire; the legendary wizard Trafalanlo of the Arcane Hermitage; the druid elder Sherzod Saba of the Rangers Guild; and they have even made contact with certain special entities from Mount Celestia. "Though none of these parties place critical importance on the matter yet, it is still possible they will dispatch a degree of force to aid the northern nations." Trump reeled off the names of these factions like reciting a menu. Cassius could not help but sigh with wry amusement. "Tsk. The Harpers truly live up to their reputation as the most famous troublemakers across Elezerg, managing to round up so many backers. "Looked at this way, it really does start to feel like making enemies of the entire world. "And yet right now... no one will stand in the way of my unifying all of Anzeta—not even the gods." Cassius murmured in a low voice, looking toward the horizon, flames seemingly blazing within his pale-golden pupils.