Rekindled

"Extra! Extra! His Majesty Cassius has awakened!" "Demons poised to invade Anzeta! Marshal Duoluo issues war mobilization orders!" "The Prime Minister issues an important directive: Demons are the empire's greatest current enemy, and they must be thoroughly eradicated to preserve imperial order!" "The invincible, supreme Emperor Cassius is to hold a grand military review on the outskirts of Isdalia!" Newsboys dashed through the streets, hawking their papers. Every now and then, well-dressed members of the upper class called them over, buying up the latest Kingdom Daily. This issue of the Imperial Daily was selling exceptionally well, largely because the front page bore a tremendously striking illustration: An ogre, heedless of an injured ear, thrust his scepter high while ringed by imperial guards, seeming to roar as he pointed toward demons lurking beyond the frame. Behind him, the banner of the Cinder Empire snapped proudly in the wind. Emperor Square was engulfed in clamor. Crowds thronged before the notice boards, chattering excitedly over the string of momentous events unfolding across the realm. "Those abyssal vermin have gone too far!" "It's war!" "Splendid! My uncle died in a demon raid—finally, we can avenge him!" "His Majesty has awakened; all is restored! Victory will be ours!" Unlike the populace of ordinary nations, the people of the empire felt little fear toward the looming demon invasion. If anything, they were thrilled and exhilarated. Resentment over the demon attacks had long simmered among them. As early as half a year ago, some had raised the slogan "Counterattack into the Abyss," rallying considerable public support. Years of unending military triumphs had forged an unshakable conviction in the empire's citizens—the Cinder Empire was invincible, and the great Red Dragon Emperor was omnipotent. This belief was etched so deeply into their minds that it could never be erased; it had become an indelible mental brand. In typical nations, war meant crushing taxes, brutal battlefields, and ruined livelihoods. Yet for subjects living within this great war machine, warfare only meant thriving commerce, abundant employment opportunities, and a rapid ladder for advancement. It was a venture where risk and opportunity coexisted, and the citizens of the empire never feared war; they welcomed it with open arms. The empire's "Conquest Partisans" even marched through the streets in high spirits, loudly singing a newly composed anthem about exterminating demons. "We'll slaughter every demon in our path!" "We'll strip their filthy hides for boot-soles!" "We'll saw off their horns for belt charms!" In truth, the melody was simply borrowed from the old conquest song for the south, with "southerners" swapped out for "demons." "We will plant the empire's banner above the Abyss..." "And let our flames boil dry the pools of blood!" The singing rolled on, growing louder and more impassioned. The partisans sang with such fervor that passing pedestrians hastened to make way. At the edge of the street, an elegant, refined middle-aged gentleman turned his head, his eyes filled with astonishment. "Genesis, do you see this? How can the people of this country hold such an attitude toward demons? Has that emperor brainwashed them?" Genesis wore a helpless expression and lowered her voice. "This is the Cinder Empire, Adrovel. And do not make any comments concerning the Emperor. So long as you are within imperial borders, he can hear it all." As she spoke, Genesis instinctively clutched her chest, where the fiery brand seemed to throb with a dull ache. "Genesis, you are being overly paranoid. That red dragon isn't a god..." Adrovel paid little heed to her warning, merely looking around in curiosity. Before long, however, he found he could no longer speak—Genesis had cast a Silence spell on him. This middle-aged man was Adrovel Melvold, a mature silver dragon in human guise and Genesis's cousin. He was also the formidable reinforcement sent by the Melvold Clan for this mission, known to the people of the Feanso Continent as the "Guardian Scale." This mature silver dragon had lived for more than three hundred and eighty years and was rapidly approaching the old age category. Having spent years active on the front lines defending against demon incursions, he possessed tremendous power, rivaling even most silver dragons in their very old stage. "We'll make the demons tremble at our name..." The partisans' voices reverberated through the streets, while the imperial citizens along the avenue joined in with fervent indignation, hurling curses at the demons. "Simply... unbelievable," Adrovel could not help remarking. Over the course of three centuries, he had traveled through many nations afflicted by demon invasions. The reaction of ordinary folk was almost universally sheer terror, dread, and a complete absence of the will to resist. Even in the Fadlan Empire, the most martial realm he had ever witnessed, the lower classes could not entirely hide their fear when demons struck. Yet here in the Cinder Empire, for the very first time, he witnessed joy, anticipation, and savage delight on the faces of people facing an imminent demonic invasion. Were they truly humanoids? Could it be that every citizen of this nation was merely a red dragon wrapped in human skin? Taking in the scene of boiling fervor throughout the city and listening to the casual talk of how best to slaughter demons, Adrovel could not suppress the question in his mind. Genesis reminded him, "Let us move, Adrovel. The military review will begin shortly." "Seeing how fanatical these people are, I am genuinely curious to see what their army looks like," Adrovel said. Genesis, however, was absentminded, lost in thought. Since the notice boards announced that the Emperor himself would oversee the review, that red dragon would surely appear in person... For reasons she could not explain, that massive, towering figure rose once more in her mind. ... Inside a refined townhouse in the inner district of Isdalia, George placed three gold dinars before a shrine adorned with a statuette of a red dragon, pressing his palms together in quiet prayer. "By the invincible Cassius above..." "May You grant me victory and glorious merit in the war against the demons." Only then did he open his eyes. He glanced down at the Imperial Daily spread across the table, determination blazing in his gaze. "A new war, a new opportunity." "Whether I can rise to senior officer rank in the campaign to conquer the south and become a true figure of prominence all rides on this single war." George straightened the lapels of his uniform before the mirror, secured his lieutenant colonel's rank insignia onto his epaulets with screw pins, and properly adjusted his military cap. Looking at his sharp, commanding reflection, he finally pushed open the door and stepped out. A steam whistle blew; the train was about to carry these soldiers to the military exercise grounds on the outskirts of Isdalia. Once the review concluded, they would be deployed to southern Anzeta, garrisoning key southern strongholds like Blackstone Keep to confront the demon legions marching north from Anstica. The flames of war were about to be rekindled.