Northwind Keep, Steel Dragonwing Palace.
Cassius reclined across his colossal steel throne. Not far before him stood an indignant Olivia.
The silver dragon had assumed humanoid form, appearing as she always did—a silver-haired maiden clad in a gown twinkling with starlight.
"Cassius, why are you still slaughtering the Northlands nobility? They've already surrendered! There's no need for such senseless killing!"
"No, it isn't a slaughter."
"It's a trial."
Cassius opened his eyes and spoke calmly. He lazily extended a claw, and a clear magical illusion materialized in midair.
"Death penalty! Death! Kill him!"
In the projection, an infuriated crowd filled the square, raising their hands and roaring frenzied chants.
Cassius admired the spectacle and smiled. "Do you see?"
"It isn't me killing them. It is the enraged people of the Northlands who are killing them. Or rather... the Northlands nobles brought ruin upon everything they had with their own hands—including their lives."
"This is the price they must pay, and a trial upholding justice and truth."
"If the Northlands nobility hadn't subjected them to centuries of cruel oppression and brutal exploitation, would the people of the Northlands hate them so deeply that they'd drag them to the guillotine?"
"I..."
Olivia's brow furrowed, at a loss for words, utterly unsure how to refute him.
Because the trials were indeed conducted under the watchful eyes of the Northlands populace and conformed to their desires. Even though the kingdom was deliberately stoking their fervor, that remained an undeniable fact.
For a lawful good being like Olivia, explaining this public trial through pragmatic reasons like "dividing public sentiment and consolidating rule" was clearly ill-advised.
High-minded words like "a trial of justice" and "resisting oppression," on the other hand, made for a fine pretext, perfectly aligning with metallic dragons' affinity for the good.
*Or so it seems,* Cassius mused inwardly.
Olivia shook her head and murmured, "Regardless, your methods are far too extreme. I admit the oppression existed, but some of them clearly didn't deserve death."
"Yet that remains the people's choice—does it not?"
Cassius replied with the same composure.
Faced with the red dragon's high-sounding rhetoric and his slaughter carried out under the banner of "justice," Olivia found herself completely speechless. She could only clutch the hem of her gown and stew in silence.
Cassius rose slowly, shaking out his massive draconic frame.
"Olivia, the process of unification is often brutal and violent. The dying old powers will inevitably fight back fiercely, and bloodshed along the way cannot be avoided."
"And only in this way can a far more enduring peace be achieved."
The red dragon turned to look at Olivia, a faint gleam stirring in his pale golden pupils.
"However, absolute violence cannot sustain rule forever, nor can it forge a new order. Thus, goodness and order are indispensable to a nation's existence."
"And that—is why I invited you to join the kingdom, my Councilor Olivia."
Olivia hurriedly lowered her head, averting her eyes from his deep, mesmerizing gaze, her lips slightly pressed together.
"I... I understand."
"I'll do my duty."
Her skirt had already been wrinkled into a crumpled mess in her fists, and beads of sweat dotted her forehead.
Olivia had spent days mentally drafting her arguments, fully prepared to confront and debate him, even steeling herself for the possibility of enraging him.
Yet when she truly stood before this red dragon, she had shrunk back, unable to utter a proper argument from beginning to end.
*Outmaneuvered by this guy again...* Olivia thought, biting her lip.
Suddenly, Cassius's voice broke her train of thought. "By the way, Olivia, how are your injuries?"
The silver-haired maiden shook her head gently. "I'm fine. The spear wasn't aimed at me, so I only suffered a minor taint from the abyssal energy."
Cassius smiled and said, "Speaking of which, I have to thank you for stepping forward back then."
His words sounded remarkably sincere.
Faced with this unexpected gratitude, Olivia faltered.
Then, she stubbornly said, "Stepping in front of you back then wasn't just to save you—it was to keep you from being corrupted by the will of the Abyss, which would bring even greater disaster upon the living beings of the Material Plane..."
Suddenly, specks of magical aura flickered across her body. Her form rapidly swelled as she transformed back into that slender, graceful silver dragon, the chaotic energy still festering in the wounds upon her wings.
"Now that you're injured, don't bother maintaining Polymorph, and certainly don't fool yourself into championing justice for those nobles."
"Just rest and heal."
Cassius's voice resonated once more.
Olivia felt a silver-white radiance descend, soothing her wounds. The sensation felt strikingly familiar.
*Is this...*
*Lord Bahamut's power?*
*Could it be... has Cassius truly converted to the Lord of the North Wind?*
The thought flashed through Olivia's mind, and she slowly closed her eyes.
Her slender, graceful silver form rose and fell in rhythm with her breathing. The wounds on her wings healed rapidly as the chaotic energy was dispelled.
*So this is the divine power of Order...*
Cassius gripped the silver-glowing Wind of Bahamut and lightly flicked his right claw.
Space twisted as a portal opened before him, teleporting Olivia's draconic body into a side hall of the palace.
By now, the red dragon's mastery over the Kingdom Domain had reached its pinnacle. Within the kingdom's borders, he was confident he could defeat Oszedro even without relying on outside assistance.
...
"Master..."
A voice came from the magic mirror in the grand hall.
The seal on the Weave lifted, and Trump's ugly visage appeared on the surface of the glass.
"What is it?"
"Master, I've discovered a human of immense potential in Northwind Keep. At only nine years of age, she can already reach the third layer of the Weave. It is very likely she possesses the talent to become a legendary sorcerer."
"Furthermore, she harbors deep hatred toward the Northlands nobility and feels a strong sense of belonging toward the kingdom."
"Oh?"
"What is her name?"
Cassius's interest was instantly piqued.
To cast a third-circle spell at just nine years old without any formal magical education was a mark of extraordinary talent anywhere across the Feanso Continent.
"Misha. Her name is Misha," Trump hastily answered.
"Misha..."
"That name sounds familiar."
Cassius's long-buried memories stirred once more.
Misha, the "Frenzied Flame Witch." Sold as a slave in her childhood to a certain count, she suffered inhuman torture in a dark basement.
Later, she went completely mad, but along with her madness awakened an unparalleled talent for fire magic.
Misha burned hundreds of people to death, including the count, turned the entire city into an inferno, and atop the ash-strewn ruins erected the Tower of Sinful Fire, dedicated to reducing everything to cinders.
After the players arrived, Misha had become the final boss of the "Mad Fire Witch" side quest chain before being slain by players. At the time of her death, she hadn't even turned seventeen, yet she already possessed a Challenge Rating as high as 16.
*Now this is interesting.*
*A talent on par with legends, if not greater in the future. I definitely can't let a seed like this slip away.*
Cassius stroked his chin, turning the thought over.
"Trump, bring her to me at once."
"Yes, Master."
Chapter 361