The Report

"Dragons truly are creatures that grow stronger just by sleeping. After this slumber, my power has increased considerably once more." Cassius inspected his even more robust, terrifying physique. Yet compared to the qualitative metamorphosis from absorbing the progenitor dragon bloodline last time—which had practically turned him into an entirely different dragon—the physical changes following this slumber were far less pronounced. Only the red dragon himself knew how immensely powerful he had become after further digesting that progenitor dragon bloodline and experiencing natural growth; it was an all-around elevation. Opening his status panel, he found that significant changes had indeed taken place. [As a true dragon possessing a progenitor bloodline, you have grown in your slumber, pursuing the mythical bloodline power of the primeval era to become even stronger.] [Strength: 34 → 36] [Constitution: 30 → 33] [Intelligence: 17 → 18] [Wisdom: 20 → 22] [Charisma: 35 → 36] [All dragons develop innate magical capabilities as they mature, while the oldest dragons could trace theirs back to spells created by the Nine-Fold Dragon God.] [You gain an additional 3 sorcerer caster levels.] [Your current caster level is: 24] Even a great wyrm red dragon possessed an innate caster level of merely 19. With Cassius's current arcane mastery, perhaps only a "freak among dragons" like Oszedro could rival him. "Huuu..." The red dragon inhaled deeply, feeling the surging tides of magic around him and commanding every single minute elemental particle. Cassius had a distinct sensation: he no longer needed to rely entirely on the magical inheritance within his bloodline, but could instead craft spells using his own arcane prowess. In contrast to wizards who rigorously constructed spell models, a sorcerer creating spells was often like a master painter, utilizing their innate talent to "paint" upon the Weave, manifesting whatever they envisioned. At Cassius's current level, casting 9th-circle spells was already second nature, and if he obtained those forbidden spells, he could even manipulate things beyond the nine tiers of the Weave. After feeling the changes in his body, Cassius noticed that the system's assessment of his combat strength had also updated. Cinder Emperor - Cassius Challenge Rating: 28 (125,000 XP) Even the mightiest among common true dragons, the great wyrm gold dragon, held a Challenge Rating of merely 26; Cassius now possessed the power to defeat a great wyrm gold dragon with relative ease. "With strength like this, I should rank among the very best across the entire Feanso Continent." Cassius craned his neck, drawing his dragon wings back with his extraordinarily robust latissimus dorsi, sprawling nearly flat against the ground as he stretched his body, which thrummed with vibrant vitality. "Snort!" The red dragon snorted, billowing plumes of scalding white smoke from his nostrils—waste heat venting from within his body. He looked toward the mountainside of Dragon Mount. The once majestic palace had been reduced to ruins by his "morning temper," leaving charred rubble and broken walls scattered everywhere. Yet this was not the first time, and Cassius already had ample experience dealing with it. "It works out well enough. The original royal palace was getting a bit cramped, so I can use this opportunity to expand it." "It's been a while since I used my Imperial Domain abilities..." Cassius casually gave himself an excuse, then focused his mind and unleashed his power in full. Imperial Domain: Shape Terrain. *Rumble—* The earth trembled once more. Dust filled the sky, and debris sprayed in all directions. Yet this time, it was no mere catastrophe. The ground steadily rose, and stone pillars slowly ascended from the depths of the earth, gradually taking the shape of a palace. The stone and steel seemed sculpted by an invisible hand, progressively forming walls, colonnades, vaulted ceilings, and even exquisite murals. It was practically an exact replica of the original palace, yet this brand-new edifice was far more spacious, grander in scale, and truly achieved the state of being "one with the mountain." "I-is that the royal palace?" "Cassius above..." The soldiers standing guard at the perimeter looked up at the palace rumbling into existence, struck dumb with awe. Although they had long heard tales of the red dragon shaping mountains and rivers to bring warmth to Anzeta, witnessing rocks rise from the earth to construct a palace with their own eyes was still beyond their wildest imagination. To them, it was nothing short of a miracle. Cassius cared little about their reactions, though he was more than happy to gather more faith—after all, that was the capital needed for godhood. Suddenly, a magical transmission emanated from the rubble. Cassius lifted the wards without a second thought. With a clattering sound, a shattered mirror slowly rose, shards falling away in pieces. A familiar voice echoed from the magical mirror, trembling with unmasked excitement. "Master..." "Y-You're awake!" The cracked surface revealed an ogre's face; even fragmented, the glass could not conceal his ugliness. Cassius nodded slightly and instructed in an even tone, "Come to the royal palace. I need to know what has happened this past year." "Yes, Master." Trump nodded repeatedly in agreement, then severed the magical projection. Just a few seconds later, the space before the red dragon rippled. Trump hurried out of a teleportation portal and fell to his knees beside the dragon's feet. "Master..." For some reason, Cassius felt that this ogre was not as energetic as before. A palpable exhaustion radiated from his hefty frame, something even his luxurious robes failed to hide; dark circles had even formed beneath his small, murky eyes. If ogres had hair, this extraordinary dragon-blooded ogre mage would undoubtedly be bald. Could he have been overworked? Still, this ogre he had groomed with his own hands truly was a remarkably useful retainer. Trump offered a fawning smile and said, "Master, you have grown stronger once again." The ogre raised his head cautiously and praised with fervent zeal, "There has never been such a dragon in all the world! Your body is as magnificent as the earth, your wings as vast as the sky, your tail winding like mountain ranges..." "Trump, you should know I didn't come to listen to the clichés of bards," Cassius interrupted him. "Of course, Master. You remain ever so humble and devoted to the realm..." The ogre scratched his head with an embarrassed laugh, then drew a magic stone from an extradimensional pocket inside his robes. *Whoosh—* In an instant, magical projections unfurled in midair, complete not only with detailed text, but also rich diagrams and charts. If this ogre were to interview for a job on Earth, he would probably be evaluated as "proficient in office software." Trump slipped on a pair of gold-rimmed spectacles, the expression on his hideous face turning solemn and earnest. "Master, following the departure of the Starfallen, the Empire's economic growth has slowed, and technological development has ground nearly to a halt..." "I understand." Cassius nodded slightly. This was within his expectations—after all, cheap, capable labor like players was exceedingly rare. "However, the scale of war in the south continues to expand, and demand for our munitions far exceeds supply. Just as you predicted, the military-industrial sector continues to flourish, with net monthly profits already reaching one million gold dinars..." "Yet the growth of military-industrial conglomerates has also spawned a series of social issues, such as violent domestic incidents. Therefore, this subordinate took the liberty of introducing several special measures..." "Regarding agricultural and pastoral development, construction of the Matra Farmlands is largely complete, capable of providing seventy percent of the nation's grain. Meanwhile, the aurochs ranches and drake ranches on Storm Heights are breeding superior strains in accordance with your instructions..." "In culture, the Imperial Propaganda Department followed your directives to carry out further ideological education, drawing upon the manuscripts left behind by the Starfallen..." "Furthermore..." "On page thirty-six..." "On page eighty-seven, this subordinate compiled the proportions of various industries and their growth trends..." "On page one hundred and twenty-one, based on inter-racial conflicts, this subordinate..." Trump's presentation spanned over two hundred pages, covering every aspect of the Empire's recent politics, economy, culture, and military affairs. After all, what he had to oversee now was no longer a kingdom ruling merely parts of the north, let alone a monster's den governing only Storm Heights. The current Cinder Empire was a vast, intricate, multiethnic empire. Its domestic population exceeded eight million, covering an area of nearly four million square kilometers that spanned the Great Anzetta Waste, the Katepa Region, the Underdark, and the Elemental Plane of Fire. Humans, yuan-ti, tieflings, ogres, hobgoblins, half-orcs, fire dwarves, duergar, satyrs, kobolds, lizardfolk... According to official statistics, there were thirty-four intelligent races within the Cinder Empire, and if certain "non-citizens" were counted, the number would be even higher. Such expansive territory, numerous races, and the impact of new technologies rendered the Empire's social fabric far more complex and volatile than that of any nation that had ever existed. For Trump, as imperial prime minister, describing his duties as "attending to myriad affairs daily" was by no means an exaggeration. Soon enough, however, Trump's dry and tedious report made the newly awakened Cassius yawn, feeling somewhat drowsy. Bursts of searing flame formed in his maw, scalding grey smoke spilling between his fangs. Being a hands-off ruler was truly best—one merely had to toss out a broad concept and leave the rest to capable subordinates. Watching Trump talk on and on like a torrent, Cassius asked with sudden curiosity, "Trump, how do you handle so many tasks at once?" Trump froze in place, looking as if he had recalled some unpleasant ordeal, a strained smile appearing on his face. "Your Majesty, I merely did what needed to be done! I purchased scrolls of Multiple Simulacrum from Thrace, allowing me to divide myself into several illusory duplicates so that I could handle affairs simultaneously." "I see." Cassius paid it little mind. Trump, however, did not tell him that those simulacra shared a direct mental link with the original, meaning this ogre mage maintained constant multithreaded operations year-round. Moreover, six months ago, under crushing workloads, one of Trump's simulacra had actually "awakened." It attempted to escape and plotted to assassinate Trump, nearly bringing catastrophe to the Imperial Council Hall. Cassius praised, "When it comes to handling state affairs, you have always done well." The red dragon slowly stood up, fixing Trump with his golden pupils, and said in a deep voice, "However... have the demons appeared? The prophesied time of the demonic invasion is drawing near. The Empire must take this with utmost seriousness." Trump nodded solemnly as well, flipping the magical projection to the very end. "Master, your prophecy was correct. Over the past year, demons have launched multiple small-scale attacks against the Empire, causing hundreds of casualties. "The most recent incident occurred just three days ago, on your Coronation Day. A glabrezu disguised as a human infiltrated Isdalia, attempting to bewitch imperial citizens and incite rebellion. Fortunately, Lady Misha intervened in time and slew the fiend." A chilling glint crept into the red dragon's golden slit pupils, sharp fangs baring at the corners of his mouth. "Isdalia... Have these demons grown so brazen? They dare stage an attack in my capital?" Trump said gravely, "That's not all. Six months ago, while I was delivering a speech on the outskirts of Isdalia, a nabassu pierced my ear with an Abyssal Arrow." The ogre pointed to his right ear. Sure enough, there was a gruesome notch, leaving only half of the fleshy ear remaining. Gritting his teeth, he said, "Master, I kept this wound solely to remember this disgrace and to make those Abyssal demons pay the price. Still... Master, only you can determine the direction of the Empire, which is why I have been awaiting your awakening." Cassius gazed south, seemingly looking past layers of mountain ranges to see the Abyssal portal nestled deep within the Anstica Mountains. "I will crush them," Cassius said placidly. In his previous life, the demons had also come from the south, provoking fierce resistance from all Northlanders and players. The people of Anzeta had paid a bloody toll, ultimately securing a pyrrhic victory. Yet that Demon of Vengeance had never once shown itself from beginning to end. Just as the previous life's "Cinder Ember" Cassius was on the brink of death, a colossal black claw bound him, vanishing with the red dragon from the Prime Material Plane. Cassius suspected that the red dragon of his past life had its body seized by a demon lord, and in this life, the demonic offensive would undoubtedly be even fiercer. However, present-day Anzeta had undergone earth-shattering changes. Compared to the Northern United Kingdom, the Cinder Empire's military might was overwhelmingly superior. As if suddenly remembering something, Trump added, "Right, Master. Lady Olivia, whom you mentioned, has secured reinforcements from Melvold. When the demons descend, those silver dragons should dispatch reinforcements to support the Empire. According to the treaty we signed, their envoy should be arriving shortly." "Oh? An envoy?" Although Cassius had long anticipated that Melvold would agree to cooperate, he was still somewhat curious. Whom would that old silver dragon, whose wings he had personally snapped, send as an envoy? ... Isdalia, Goncalo Palace. This was the venue where the Cinder Empire received foreign envoys—one of the few places boasting opulent decor, though it still exuded a heavy "imperial flavor." Within the grand hall, Olivia was dressed in formal parliamentary attire, her silver-gray eyes tinged with anxiety. Lowering her voice, she urged, "Aunt, your prejudice runs too deep. Traveling all this way, you must have seen plenty for yourself. Surely you can tell that life for the people of Anzeta has improved drastically." She hesitated a moment before continuing, "His Majesty Cassius... while he cannot be called kind, he is by no means an irredeemable tyrant." Beside Olivia stood a plump noblewoman in a flowing white gown, appearing to be in her thirties, with a cascading mane of silver hair to match. Wise, intellectual, and beautiful. Such was the first impression she gave everyone; at any noble banquet, she would undoubtedly have received invitations from countless gentlemen. This was Genesis, an adult silver dragon of the Melvold clan, known as the "Pearl of Corda." At this moment, however, Genesis's radiant face was fraught with indignation. "Olivia, have you lost your mind? That red dragon destroyed a kingdom, slaughtered tens of thousands of humans, and gravely wounded your grandfather, yet you still speak on his behalf! You are a member of Melvold!" Olivia lowered her eyes, offering a feeble defense. "No, it's not like that. I'm doing this for Anzeta's..." Genesis sighed, her tone softening slightly. "Fine, little Olivia. I will consider what you have said."