"Your Majesty, that Cinder Emperor is by no means an evil dragon in the traditional sense! Not only his strength, but his ambition far exceeds the imagination of everyone present!"
Dayev plucked up his courage, stepping beside Duke Sahisai as he spoke with resounding conviction.
Hearing his subordinate contradict his words, Sahisai frowned instantly, his expression sour. "Dayev, don't forget that I am the envoy in charge of the mission to the Empire."
Dayev hesitated for a moment at the rebuke, but he gritted his teeth and argued back, "But... Your Grace, I have traveled through several cities of the Cinder Empire and even lived in Isdalia for days. You cannot possibly understand that empire as well as I do."
He raised his head, looking toward the "King of Angels" cloaked in a hazy halo atop the throne. "Your Majesty Wilhelm, do you know what I saw?"
Wilhelm leaned forward slightly, looking down at the young diplomat, his voice deep. "Tell me. What did you see?"
Dayev bowed his head, seemingly recalling that unforgettable journey from years ago.
"I saw mechanical behemoths thundering across the plains, not for war, but for agriculture. I saw cities of steel rising from the ground, churning out mountains of goods. I saw billowing smoke pouring from factory chimneys. I saw the people of the Empire, regardless of race, practically venerating the Emperor as their faith...
"This dragon emperor does not pursue mere wealth. He has even invested tens of millions of gold coins into constructing these works—something no covetous evil dragon could ever do.
"Take Osalos, the red dragon lord from a century ago. Every few years, he did nothing but pillage his own subjects without restraint. That is what a conventional evil dragon lord looks like.
"Yet the Cinder Emperor Cassius operates on a fundamentally different paradigm. His goal is not plunder. More accurately, he is..."
Dayev paused, searching for words to capture it. Only after a beat did he say in a solemn voice:
"The Cinder Emperor is forging a new civilization."
"How could that be possible?"
"Dayev is exaggerating!"
"He is nothing more than a red dragon! Regardless of how formidable his strength is, he is still just a savage beast. He could never be a wise monarch!"
"Indeed! He is merely trying to play to the gallery before His Majesty!"
Dayev's words stirred an uproar across the great hall. The courtiers buzzed in heated debate, while Duke Sahisai, entirely contradicted, broke into a face as black as coal.
"Still, if that's true... wouldn't we just be handing free gold to an enemy?"
"Indeed. Using magical creations on base commoners is unheard of!"
"This red dragon's methods for bewitching minds are terrifying!"
The vast majority of courtiers supported Duke Sahisai's proposal; after all, none of them wished to face the terrifying dragon of the north.
Yet some were persuaded by Dayev's account, growing deeply troubled by the Cinder Emperor's towering ambitions.
The lords of the Kingdom of Thrace did not fear a red dragon that burned, slaughtered, and pillaged at whim—to them, that was merely a beast.
What they truly dreaded was a wise, ambitious dragon sovereign, for such a ruler could utterly dismantle their reign.
Wilhelm lowered his head in thought, wavering. Even his pristine white wings curled inward slightly. "To think the Cinder Emperor harbors such ambition... No wonder that useless wretch from the Northlands was so terrified of him."
Having watched the recordings of that battle and now heard Dayev's testimony, the "King of Angels" harbored genuine wariness toward the northern red dragon.
Yet in Wilhelm's eyes, nothing mattered more than reclaiming the Holy City and securing the old emperor's legacy, stopping at nothing to elevate himself into an existence rivaling the gods.
Compared to that, all else seemed trivial.
After all, he was a descendant of the Sun God, the natural-born ruler of Fadlan. How could he cower before a red dragon?
Yet Dayev's next words shattered Wilhelm's resolve, sending a chill through his heart.
"Furthermore...
"Your Majesty Wilhelm, I personally witnessed hundreds of imperial vassals receive the red dragon's boon, growing extraordinarily powerful. He is conducting some manner of ceremony akin to an Ascension Ritual!
"Cassius... that emperor seeks to become a living god in the hearts of his people."
Dayev looked up, his tone solemn as he gazed at the angelic scion upon the throne.
"What?"
Wilhelm's eyes widened. He trembled all over in sheer shock and fury, his pristine white wings quivering violently.
That red dragon sought to become an earthly deity as well!
In Wilhelm's grand design, he would seize the Holy City, eliminate his two elder brothers, secure the legacy of Aragorn I, and ascend to true godhood.
When that time came, he would reclaim the vast domains of Holy Fadlan, gathering the devotion of all mortal beings across the land to become an eternal emperor, a living deity walking the world.
And now, another being dared covet that very throne of earthly divinity! It was utterly unforgivable!
Wilhelm's voice was low and strained, like thunder on the verge of breaking. "Did you see this clearly?"
"Yes, Your Majesty. I witnessed and felt it myself. It was an ascension ritual much like the one performed by His Majesty Aragorn a century ago."
Wilhelm slowly rose from his throne. The three pairs of massive, pristine wings behind him unfurled, casting long shadows.
"My lords, what other thoughts do you have?
"At present, my elite Angelic Godblood Royal Guard and the Arcane Legion are engaged in the south against those traitors of Cassander. Must I rely on you to march north and repel the red dragon?"
"Your Majesty, this..."
"Forgive our inadequacy..."
"That evil dragon is simply beyond mortal might to withstand!"
"Indeed! A dragon a hundred meters long—sending our personal retinues against him would be pure suicide!"
Suddenly, Duke Sahisai stepped forward once more, his slightly cloudy eyes narrowing as though hatching a plot.
"Your Majesty, do you still recall Isa and Muken?"
Wilhelm's expression instantly turned icy. "Of course I remember. Those damned traitors were the ones who paved the path of rebellion."
Isa and Muken, of whom Sahisai spoke, were powerful godblood dukes who had once been Wilhelm's most capable lieutenants and right-hand men.
Years ago, however, weary of relentless warfare and foreseeing Thrace's steady decline, they had carved out their own domains along the kingdom's borders.
Declaring themselves "Angelic Princes," they styled themselves as living gods in their fiefs, while Wilhelm, consumed by the southern war, lacked the leeway to suppress them.
This had sparked immense turmoil. Within days, dozens of godbloods across the three kingdoms proclaimed independence one after another, carving up the remnants of Holy Fadlan into various petty realms.
Scholars termed this widespread godblood insurrection the "Holy Turmoil."
Even now, several rebellious angelic godbloods within the borders of Thrace led their private armies in defiance of Wilhelm's rule, claiming they had been enfeoffed as princes by the late emperor.
This time, however, Wilhelm had dispatched substantial forces to encircle and suppress them, hoping to seize the opportunity to restore royal authority.
Sahisai naturally knew how deeply the king loathed these "holy rebels," yet he pressed on:
"Your Majesty, since the kingdom can no longer rein in these traitors, why not put them to use?"
Wilhelm pondered for a moment. "Meaning..."
"You could grant northern fiefs to those rebellious godblood nobles who refuse your summons. Let those ungrateful wretches serve as our northern shield against the Cinder Empire's invasion..."
At this point, Sahisai leaned in, a sycophantic grin crinkling the wrinkles across his face.
"That way, you can devote all your focus to the war against the Kingdom of Cassander. Once you reclaim the Holy City, you can lead the restored Fadlan Empire north to crush both the evil dragon and the rebels in one fell swoop."
Hearing Sahisai's counsel, the ministers chimed in with vocal approval, showering him with praise. To them, this was the least costly path.
"Duke Sahisai never fails to impress."
"Indeed, to think of such a stratagem!"
"Pit our two enemies against each other and keep the Kingdom of Thrace out of harm's way."
Yet Dayev raised his doubts once more, asking with deep concern, "Can those... traitors truly hold back the Cinder Empire? If the Cinder Empire wipes out every independent angelic godblood, how then are we to withstand a pincer attack from the Empire in the north and Cassander in the south?"
Another figure stepped forward from the assembly—an elder with hair and beard white as snow, draped in opulent robes. He gripped a golden staff shimmering with faint luminescence, bowing his hunched frame slightly.
This was Herbert Favalli, former bishop of the Church of Amaunator in Thrace and now the Kingdom's Archbishop.
"Your Majesty Wilhelm...
"Though the great Sun God has fallen into slumber due to the machinations of Cassander, the celestials of Mount Celestia maintain their communion with us.
"They still desire the Sun God's radiant light to shine upon all living things, and they would never wish to see a tyrannical red dragon rule over this earth.
"And you..."
He raised his head slowly, looking up respectfully at Wilhelm, gazing upon the face cloaked in a hazy halo and the three pairs of pristine white wings.
"You are a being blessed by Lord Amaunator, bearing noble blood that rivals the seraphim. The angels will surely be willing to support the Kingdom of Thrace.
"No matter how powerful that red dragon is, he remains a beast of the mortal realm, incapable of withstanding the boundless radiance of the heavens.
"I am willing to journey to Mount Celestia to secure a noble solar as an ally for Thrace to repel that red dragon."
Perhaps ingrained by nearly a century of habit, Archbishop Herbert spoke in a drawn-out cadence reminiscent of hymns chanted in worship of the Sun God.
"Very well."
Wilhelm resumed his place high atop the throne, draped in the hazy halo like an avatar of the divine.
His voice rang through the great hall, steady and commanding.
"My lords, when Holy Fadlan is restored, those rebels and the evil dragon of the north will all be ground to dust beneath the radiance of Amaunator!"
"Long live King Wilhelm!"
"Long live Holy Fadlan!"
The courtiers raised their arms and cheered in unison, filling the grand hall with an uproar of acclaim.
Yet beneath the cover of that hazy halo, hairline cracks of pitch black had already crept across Wilhelm's formerly flawless white skin.
"Damn it..."
"I cannot let this go on. I must find the legacy Father left behind and become truly immortal..."
Beneath his glamorous exterior, the "King of Angels" wore an expression twisted in agony, his words muttered so softly that only he could hear them.
*Crack.*
A faint, almost imperceptible sound broke out as the black fissures spiderwebbed further, rendering Wilhelm's body like fractured porcelain.
A low, magnetic voice echoed right by his ear.
"Your Majesty, there is not much time left on your 'immortality'...
"If that supposed Fadlan legacy remains unfound, the Nine Hells... will come to collect their due."
Behind the "King of Angels," faint patterns emblematic of the devils of the Nine Hells subtly surfaced.
Trembling violently, Wilhelm's expression contorted in sudden panic and rage. Thrashing his three pairs of massive wings, he roared at the courtiers below:
"Get out! Every last one of you useless wretches, get out!"
Pristine white feathers fluttered in the air, and expensive porcelain shattered across the floor. The courtiers exchanged bewildered glances before tactfully withdrawing.
Ever since the late emperor's passing, His Majesty had grown erratic and volatile—perhaps driven mad by grief.
...
The Cinder Empire, Dragon Blood Mountain.
Sulfurous smoke curled through the air alongside the steady crackle of burning flames, shrouding a colossal silhouette.
At the mountain's peak, the red dragon—now over forty meters long—lay coiled in lazy repose. He exhaled silvery-white flames, refining the blood harvested from the dragon carcass.
In a mere matter of a dozen days, fueled by a steady intake of progenitor dragon blood, Cassius had grown visibly broader, his length rapidly pressing toward the fifty-meter mark.
The red dragon thoroughly relished this sensation of steadily burgeoning power. If left undisturbed, he could spend decades here stewing blood until he had fully transformed into a progenitor dragon.
Yet a flicker of magical luminescence brought several projections drifting before him, forcing him to divert his attention.
"Hmm... The Kingdom of Thrace has grown vigilant as well. But to think Wilhelm would proactively resort to enfeoffment. How amusing.
"And as for Cassander, reaching out to collaborate again... Are they that impatient? Seeking to use my strength to wipe out Thrace?"
Reviewing the intelligence presented by Trump, Cassius remarked in a quiet voice.
Over the past month, recordings of his clash against the Abyssal dragon in Anstica had circulated far and wide, sending shockwaves through every major power.
The Empire had once again become the focal point of the entire Feanso Continent, drawing the scrutiny of countless factions.
Cassius rose slowly, shaking out his body as he unfurled his wings. Swallowing another droplet of progenitor dragon blood floating before him, he gave his instructions:
"Have all departments prepare for war. Katepa has been preparing for a long time. It is time... to begin the true conquest of the south.
"Wilhelm has actually done me a favor. It so happens I had no desire to swallow Thrace whole in a single gulp."
Chapter 551