"Roar—!"
A long, resounding dragon roar echoed across a radius of a hundred li. A formidable dragon fear settled slowly over the land, weighing upon every shoulder and inspiring an instinctive urge to bow in reverent worship.
*Hiss—*
The air burst with a sharp pop, followed by the howl of rushing wind.
The red dragon, measuring over forty meters long, beat his wings and whipped up a scorching gale. Amid flickering sparks, he leapt skyward from the summit of the Grand Altar of Isdalia.
Sunlight washed over his crimson scales, cloaking him in a faint, shimmering halo like a descending deity.
Those broad draconic wings blotted out the sun, casting a vast shadow over the thousands of imperial citizens gathered below. Yet under that darkness, none felt fear; instead, they surged with exhilaration and felt immensely honored.
To be sheltered beneath the wings of a red dragon might herald death elsewhere, but in the Cinder Empire, it was a badge of glory and fortune.
"Cassius above..."
"What an honor."
"His Majesty... he is right above our heads!"
Hundreds of thousands of eyes turned toward the sky, converging upon that magnificent, towering draconic form as awe and reverence welled up in every heart.
Yet among the shadow-draped crowd stood a hooded half-elf disguised as an imperial merchant—Richard, a double agent walking the line between the Empire and the Harpers.
At this moment, his eyes were numb as he stared at the skybound dragon, his expression tangled and bewildered, as though his very soul had been torn away.
"Cassius above..."
After years undercover in the Empire, the phrase had become second nature to him, slipping out unbidden.
Years ago, at that grand coronation that had shaken the continent, Richard had realized one truth: that dragon, the Cinder Emperor, was not an enemy mortal strength could ever vanquish.
Defeating this nemesis in this lifetime was an impossible dream, let alone seeking vengeance. His sole remaining purpose was to rescue Abir and return south, living a quiet life far from the world's strife.
Yet moments earlier, Richard had witnessed a sight that plunged him into utter despair.
Upon the altar stood a familiar figure: tall and slender, with emerald eyes and the distinct pointed ears of an elf.
It was her—Abir, the elven ranger from Therenia, the lover he had pined for day and night, who had visited his dreams countless times.
Now, she stood atop the Grand Altar of Isdalia, gazing up at the red dragon with fanatical devotion, awaiting the Emperor's boon.
Richard did not even dare display his heartbreak and despair too openly. He had to force a faint smile, lest anyone nearby suspect him of being a spy and turn him in for gold.
In the Empire, catching spies had spawned a thriving trade that sustained many bounty hunters, leading locals to affectionately refer to foreign agents as "Fifty Gold."
"No... that's impossible..."
Richard turned pale, his trembling voice swallowed by the cheering crowd.
"Long live His Majesty Cassius!"
"Long live the Empire!"
"For the great red dragon!"
Amid the ocean of roaring voices, Richard felt only a suffocating silence. Gazing at that distant, unreachable figure, a sharp ringing filled his ears.
He watched the elf on the altar cheer. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes burning with fanaticism, barely distinguishable from the imperial crowd around her.
From the half-red dragon herald's proclamation, Abir was hailed as an exemplary convert who had "repented and embraced the Empire," the first elf to swear allegiance.
She had been brainwashed as well!
A line Richard had once read in the *Imperial Daily* surfaced in his mind:
*"Those who receive the boon shall have their souls blessed; they will remain eternally loyal to the Empire, following the great Cinder Emperor for all ages to come."*
"No, Abir... you can't become the Emperor's thrall..."
Richard muttered to himself, reaching out toward the distance as if trying to grasp her, but she only gazed devoutly at the sky, entirely unaware of him.
He knew that attempting to disrupt the ceremony would not only land him in chains, but seal Abir's doom as well.
Yet if he stood by, she would become the Emperor's spiritual thrall, lost beyond rescue for all eternity, and they would never return to what they once were.
"Abir, don't..."
A stifling powerlessness seized Richard's chest, as though an invisible hand were crushing his throat, leaving him capable of only despairing whispers.
Once, full of youthful pride, he had forged a pact with the wild fey and fancied himself a legendary hero destined to save the world.
Now, Richard had long come to accept that he was merely a mortal helpless before fate.
Before a colossus like the Cinder Empire, before an emperor akin to a god, he was nothing more than an insignificant speck of dust.
Forcing his chin up, he looked upon the soaring dragon and the sun-blotting wings, despair bleeding through his eyes.
"No..."
Yet amidst the fervent atmosphere of this glorious, sacred hour, nearly every eye was fixed on the Emperor's majestic silhouette. No one took notice of Richard's distress.
The ceremony marched on. The Cinder Emperor hung high in the sky like the rising sun, indifferent to the will of any mortal.
"Roar—!"
The red dragon raised his head once more and roared.
The bellow was grander and more powerful than before, sweeping across sky and earth, reverberating throughout Anzeta. It made all living things tremble, turning every head toward the city of Isdalia.
Cassius spread his wings, which spanned nearly sixty meters, and torrents of flame erupted from their trailing edges, surging outward in wild plumes.
The sky itself seemed torn asunder by those blazing wings of fire that stretched thousands of meters wide across the horizon.
*Whoosh—*
The red dragon beat his wings slowly. In an instant, liquid fire showered down, bathing all of Isdalia in a hazy glow and filling the air with blistering heat.
*It is time...*
Cassius mobilized the full strength of his bloodline. His fiery heart pounded, pumping scalding progenitor dragon blood through his fundus vessels, while sulfurous smoke billowed from his vents.
A surging radiance shone through his body, gathering at his chest and converging into the dragon crystal.
Suspended in the heavens, the red dragon shed ten thousand rays of brilliant light that outshone the midday sun, blazing like a true celestial sphere.
The citizens were blinded by the piercing brilliance, yet they remained deeply reverent, murmuring prayers without pause.
"Cassius above..."
"Praise the Cinder Emperor!"
"His Majesty... His Majesty is the Empire's eternal, never-setting sun!"
Then, Cassius's booming voice resounded between heaven and earth, thundering across the vast wilderness in unending peals:
"As the Cinder Emperor, I hereby decree—unto those who stand against the Empire, I grant destruction!"
*Swoosh—*
As the words fell, deafening blasts tore the air as meteors plunged from above, crashing into the crowded gathering under the terrified, bewildered gaze of the throng.
Several panic-stricken "people" were struck, their skins igniting to expose their demonic visages before being reduced to ash amidst agonizing shrieks.
The flames incinerated the hidden demons completely without harming a single person beside them.
"There were demons hidden in the Empire! They were standing right beside us!"
"Praise His Majesty's keen sight! He saw through the demons at once!"
"Thank His Majesty! Praise the Cinder Emperor!"
The citizens had no idea that Cassius had deliberately allowed these demons into the city, purely to heighten the drama of the investiture.
In the press of the crowd, Richard surreptitiously wiped cold sweat from his brow. For a moment, he had thought the omniscient Emperor had seen through his treasonous thoughts and struck down with wrath.
It seemed he had simply overwrought his nerves.
How could a being like that ever pay mind to a trifling ranger like him?
The thunderous voice rolled on, vibrating the air, treating the deaths of a dozen demons as nothing more than a minor interlude.
"And unto those loyal to the Empire—I grant supreme honor and eternal power!"
Beams of brilliance lanced down from the heavens like tethering bands between sky and earth, pouring over those upon the Grand Altar of Isdalia and enveloping them in radiant splendor.
"No..."
"Abir..."
Watching the blurred silhouettes within the light, Richard surrendered entirely to despair, feebly reaching out as the light faded from his eyes.
Cassius slowly closed his claws, unleashing the torrential power of the progenitor bloodline within him.
He had refined a substantial amount of progenitor dragon blood. The power bestowed this time was unprecedented, enough to elevate certain thralls to the level of true dragons.
*Bloodline Boon.*
Instantly, using those pillars of light as conduits, the bodies, minds, and souls of the Cinder Emperor and his retainers were intertwined.
"Ahhh!"
Under this overwhelming surge, everyone upon the Grand Altar of Isdalia sank to their knees, some curling their bodies in agony.
Crimson scales pushed out beneath their skin; sulfurous fumes vented from their mouths and nostrils; draconic horns sprouted from their brows. For those with richer bloodlines, the transformation was even more dramatic.
Hobgoblin Duoluo knelt on one knee, soaked in sweat that hissed into scorching white steam. Massive swellings rose across his back like erupting volcanoes, straining against his flesh.
Under the agonizing mutation, he gritted his teeth, sharp tusks protruding as plumes of smoke drifted through the gaps.
*Rippp—*
The sound of tearing flesh rang out. The hobgoblin threw his head back and threw his arms wide, releasing an ear-splitting howl of pain.
A pair of newborn dragon wings unfurled from his back, slick with blood, showering droplets across the stone.
Panting heavily, the dragonblood hobgoblin—now standing nearly four meters tall—took to the air, stirring up gusts of blistering wind.
"Awoo—!"
It was a cry akin to a dragon's roar.
At the pinnacle of the altar, the dragonblood ogre let out a deep, muffled rumble. He was also half-kneeling, yet in that posture he still measured over three meters in height.
Bathed in the radiance, Trump's massive frame heaved with every breath, constantly swelling as the scales across his skin grew denser.
Two bulges formed upon the ogre's back as well, as if something were about to burst forth.
With another wet rip of flesh, two leathery wings tore through his skin. They beat furiously with a buzzing hum—yet failed to lift the ogre even a fraction of an inch off the ground.
Trump now stood nearly ten meters tall, exceedingly portly, looming like a heavy hill just by standing there.
Yet his wings were barely a meter long, resembling pocket-sized ornaments far more than functional appendages.
"Roar—!"
Feeling the dragonblood power surging within him, the ogre split his fanged maw in a roar of fierce satisfaction.
Yet his eyes soon caught the tiny wings on his back, and when he saw the hobgoblin soaring nearby, the broad grin froze on his grotesque face.
"Urrgh..."
Beside him, the tiefling Mezrolash knelt as well, letting out a stifled groan.
Having missed a previous bestowal, his degree of draconic transformation lagged far behind that of Duoluo and Trump.
As the light engulfed him, thick white steam billowed from his form. Crimson scales surfaced on his skin, his infernal bloodline from the Nine Hells suppressed by the progenitor dragon blood.
Almost in an instant, his ram-like devil horns swept backward, reshaping into the swept-back horns of a red dragon.
His devilish tail grew thicker, rimmed with scales and frills, remaking itself into that of a dragon.
"Roar—!"
The white dragon Tinia let out a shriek.
Abandoning all dignity, she curled upon the ground, thrashing her wings and twisting her body.
Fearing that the bloodline boon might clash with her progenitor white dragon blood, Cassius had deliberately stripped away a portion of the red dragon's fiery nature for her.
Even so, the sudden influx of bloodline strength brought agonizing pain, drawing pained wails from her throat.
Her ferocious, colossal body swelled noticeably larger, growing stouter and resembling the robust form of a red dragon rather than a frail, slender white dragon.
Her wing membranes took on a deep blue hue reminiscent of metal burning in flame, growing broader until their trailing edges anchored far past her hind legs and beneath her tail.
"Roar!"
"For the Cinder Empire!"
Amidst the glow of swirling flame and smoke, the dragonblood nobles roared and bellowed, sprouting scales and horns.
Their physical forms drew ever closer to that of their shared, supreme sovereign—Cassius, the Dragon of Cinder.
"Great red dragon..."
"What noble majesty! The dragonblood nobles have grown even stronger!"
"I hear that even the lowest dragonblood baron can live for over two hundred years."
"Indeed, such is His Majesty's blessing. If only I could stand on that altar one day."
The populace below watched the transforming nobility, their faces flushed with envy and yearning.
To become a dragonblood noble was to become an entrenched beneficiary of the imperial order, enjoying boundless privilege.
Yet amidst the throng, a hooded man stared in despair, his voice choked and hoarse.
"No, no... Abir, you shouldn't have become this..."
Richard stared fixedly at the figure bathed in light, watching the lover who had haunted his dreams turn increasingly monstrous.
Draconic horns, scales, and talons emerged from the proud elven ranger. The newly reborn dragonblood elf gazed fanatically toward the skybound red dragon, shouting praises of long life that felt utterly alien to Richard, making him shake his head in disbelief.
Yet he knew he was powerless to stop it.
With this ceremony complete, Richard's hope of returning south to live a quiet, ordinary life with Abir was completely shattered.
Yes, he had no choice.
His only path forward was to remain a double agent in the Cinder Empire, protecting her from the shadows while seeking a way to break this "curse."
"Abir, I will save you from this place..."
With that thought, Richard pulled his hood lower, his clenched knuckles turning white.
...
*As expected of progenitor dragon blood. The bloodline aura of those two dukes is nearly on par with true dragons.*
Hundreds of meters aloft, in the center of fiery wings spanning thousands of meters, Cassius narrowed his eyes, pale gold pupils gleaming with anticipation.
He lowered his head to gaze upon the invisible authority nestled within his talons and murmured softly, "It is time to test... this newly gained power."
*Crack.*
He snapped his talons shut. Boundless power of law surged from the invisible authority, scattering countless crystalline shards across the sky.
*Sovereign-Conferred Divine Right.*
Chapter 555