*Clang—*
Crassus struck the tabletop with the scepter in his claw, producing a crisp metallic chime like the tolling of a great bell.
The milky-white pole star at the tip of the scepter lit up, and a cold wind carrying a trace of Bahamut's aura swept outward. It engulfed the entire Hall of Justice in an instant, sending a tremor through the hearts of every gold dragon present.
The young gold dragons attending the Gold Dragon Council for the first time were particularly agape, their faces filled with shock and awe.
Cassius looked upon the phantom image of the platinum dragon and the sprawling nebulae manifesting before him. He assumed an outwardly reverent demeanor, but inwardly, he was already salivating over that scepter.
*This is... an authentic artifact. Its rank far surpasses the gem I seized from that old silver dragon.*
Feeling that potent, unceasing pulse of divine power, Cassius could not help but muse to himself.
Crassus lifted the scepter, and the cold wind dissipated at once. His deep, resonant voice rang out with immense authority.
"In the name of the presiding Gold Dragon Archon, Crassus, I hereby declare—the 267th session of the Gold Dragon Council has begun."
The great wyrm looked around, sweeping his assessing gaze across the gold dragons seated along the long table before continuing, "My friends, I have convened this extraordinary session today primarily to address several issues currently confronting the Material Plane. As I trust you all know, following the collapse of Holy Fadlan, those entities that lurked in darkness for centuries... can no longer restrain themselves."
"Indeed, the blue dragons of the Brendan Desert have been quite active lately."
"The City of Myriad Laws has detected several newly opened abyssal rifts, all leading into the Material Plane."
"We discovered traces of the long-dormant Cult of the Dragon in the Kingdom of Seleucia. They are colluding with the Church of Tiamat."
"The Nine Hells are stirring as well. Devils have once again appeared on the Material Plane."
The gold dragons nodded in agreement, conferring among themselves and sharing the disasters and troubles each had encountered.
Cassius listened quietly, piecing together the intelligence brought by gold dragons from across the world. Under the butterfly effect of the Cinder Empire, these events had already diverged considerably from the plot in his memories.
If ten gold dragons jointly deliberated an issue, they could submit a proposal to Crassus to put it to an open vote in the council, after which dragons with matching capabilities would be dispatched to resolve it methodically.
According to traditions spanning tens of thousands of years, dragons of the very old age category and above possessed the right to introduce proposals individually, while Crassus, as Archon, held absolute veto power.
Soon, the first matter was brought forward for an open vote—an affair concerning the Cult of the Dragon.
Crassus held his scepter and waved it lightly. Lines of Draconic script materialized across the surface of the long table, detailing the assignment.
"Gathering intelligence on the Cult of the Dragon requires at least three adult gold dragons..."
"Lord Crassus, I reside within the borders of the Kingdom of Seleucia. I should be well suited for this mission."
"Grandfather, I am willing to take this task."
"For the glory of the Lord of the North Wind, I will venture deep into the enemy's lair to scout their movements!"
...
Born with an innate drive to champion justice and pass judgment upon evil, these gold dragons volunteered one after another, taking up their duties as good dragons.
One pending matter after another from across the world was laid onto the table. Disasters and wicked entities that other creatures went out of their way to avoid were, in the eyes of the gold dragons, nothing more than clear, bright targets.
It was said that some particularly zealous gold dragons would even disguise themselves as helpless women or children, using themselves as bait to lure out any evil creatures lurking nearby—true pioneers of entrapment.
The meeting went on for three full days and nights. The gold dragons exchanged intelligence, bringing nearly all the evil factions across Feanso into their sphere of oversight—yet the Cinder Empire remained excluded.
*This doesn't make sense...*
Cassius stroked his whiskers, puzzled.
By the moral standards of gold dragons, his Cinder Empire was indisputably an "evil faction." Why hadn't the Archon brought it up yet?
He had certainly heard the Cinder Empire's name mentioned several times in the dragons' discussions, yet Crassus had consistently refrained from assigning tasks related to it.
Beside him, an ancient gold dragon named Samuel was quite warm, seemingly fond of this unfamiliar kinsman. "Lord Titus, I have heard tales of your deeds even down in the southern reaches of the continent. The verses of those human bards are amusing indeed."
And across the long table, the ancient gold dragon Elliot remarked admiringly, "Wings of Dawn, Dragon of the Dawn, descending from the heavens to slay Gruumsh's scion single-handedly and repel an onslaught of hundreds of thousands of orcs..."
Cassius gave a slight shake of his head, twirling a whisker with a polite smile.
"Haha, Lord Samuel is too kind. Those are merely the exaggerations of mortals. In truth, I was not fighting alone, and my allies' achievements should not be overlooked. In that war against Gruumsh's scion, the Mountain King of Blackrock Mountain and the Twilight Blade of Therenia both played significant roles..."
*Clang—*
Just then, Crassus struck his scepter once more. The dragons instantly fell quiet, listening in silence to the Archon.
The great wyrm looked around before continuing, "Beyond the topics addressed in this session, there is one more matter—a special request for aid from someone who once did our gold dragon clan a great favor: the current Duke of North Aethel, Walter Graham."
Samuel seemed to recall something and said softly, "I remember that name... Isn't that the godblood noble who rescued Tatiana from Hell several decades ago?"
"Yes, precisely him." Crassus nodded in confirmation.
Tatiana was a female ancient dragon. She had been ambushed and captured during a skirmish between metallic and chromatic dragons, then imprisoned in Hell by the Dragon Queen for more than two centuries before Walter rescued her.
At present, Tatiana was deep in slumber to nurse her wounds and could not attend this council, leaving the newly arrived Titus to temporarily fill her seat.
Upon hearing Crassus's answer, Samuel said, "We gold dragons are by no means an ungrateful race. I move that we grant his request for aid."
"Indeed. When our benefactor faces dire peril, we should extend our help without hesitation."
"He rescued an ancient gold dragon, after all! Were Lady Tatiana here, she would surely support him with all her might."
The gold dragons chimed in agreement. Cassius, on the other hand, wore quite an intrigued expression. He had not expected the leader of the Fadlan Restoration Rebel Army from his past life to have been dubbed the so-called "Duke of North Aethel"—doubtless Wilhelm's handiwork again.
The North Aethel Plains bordered the Casper Hills, making them the primary objective of the empire's southward offensive. It seemed the discussion was finally coming around to the Cinder Empire.
"You all think of this far too simply..."
Crassus's expression was telling. A weary resignation showed in his pale gold slit pupils as he slowly raised the scepter.
"Walter's adversary is no ordinary foe, but a red dragon far more terrifying than any of you can imagine."
"A red dragon?"
"Punishing such tyrannical, wicked dragons is the innate duty of us gold dragons!"
"Those brutes whose brains are made of nothing but magma and muscle!"
The younger gold dragons were still filled with righteous indignation, but the older, well-informed dragons wore grim expressions, each having formed a vague suspicion.
"His enemy is the ruler of the Great Anzetta Waste, the mightiest red dragon to appear in centuries: the Cinder Emperor—Cassius Claubau Norixius."
Crassus held the silver scepter—the symbol of supreme authority over the gold dragons—above his head. Gleaming starlight coalesced within the Hall of Justice, forming a vivid, lifelike illusion.
It was a colossal red dragon roaring toward the heavens, unleashing torrential waves of fire. Hills beneath his claws looked like mere mounds of dirt, and the demons shrouded under his wings were as trivial as ants.
Scaling the illusion to realistic proportions, the watching gold dragons realized an unbelievable truth—this red dragon's body stretched over a hundred meters long. It was simply unimaginable!
"Wh-what a colossal red dragon..."
"Bahamut above... A true dragon over a hundred meters long? How could such a monster exist?"
"I have heard of him! This Red Emperor nearly killed the Grand Elder of the Melvold Clan, Oszedro of the Silver Wings!"
"Lord of the North Wind! When I journeyed to the Elemental Plane of Fire to assist the Prince of Sacred Fire, that red dragon was renowned there as well. The locals called him the Spirit-Devourer Dragon—he devoured a pasha of the Empire of the Efreet!"
The gold dragons in the Hall of Justice talked among themselves, their voices thick with marvel, shock, and even dread. After all, even to them, such a dragon belonged only in legends.
Tens of thousands of years had passed since dragons ruled the land, and the glory of the progenitor dragons had long since faded. Today, after dozens of generations of diluted bloodlines, it was difficult for true dragons to even conceive the terrifying might of their ancestors.
Yet a fledgling young gold dragon questioned this reluctance: "Isn't our mission as gold dragons to punish evil? Even if this red dragon is as formidable as a deity, we should not cower in fear! Lord Crassus, I am willing to take this assignment to repay Walter's kindness!"
The speaker was none other than Anhel, the young gold dragon whose name Cassius had once appropriated.
Crassus looked upon the impetuous Anhel with the indulgent patience reserved for a junior, then slowly shook his head.
"Anhel, this mission is far too perilous. Your strength is nowhere near sufficient to survive such a battle; going would be throwing your life away for nothing. Only those of ancient dragon stature could even be permitted to go. What is more... this is a war that is nearly impossible to win."
Crassus lowered his scepter and said slowly, "This Cassius does not merely possess formidable strength. His bloodline rivals that of a third-generation progenitor dragon, which means... he holds the potential to become a Dragon King."
He looked around, his gaze resting upon the ancient and wyrm gold dragons, for only they could comprehend the full gravity of those words.
Sure enough, Samuel, Elliot, and Beatrice all looked utterly shocked, their expressions profoundly grave.
A Dragon King: a being capable of establishing an entire draconic subrace, just as Bahamut had begotten metallic dragons, Tiamat had birthed chromatic dragons, and Sardior had created gem dragons.
Following the Dragonfall War that brought about draconic decline, and after the successive demises of the surviving progenitor dragons, the emergence of Cassius was no longer a simple matter of good versus evil—it touched upon the revival of the entire dragon race.
Cassius listened intently to these secrets disclosed by Crassus—secrets he had never heard even in his past life. His expression grew just as solemn.
*Coming here was truly the right call. Even if I lose this avatar, it will have been well worth it. Who knew... my importance was even greater than I imagined.*
Crassus gazed at the holy symbol of Bahamut set into the crest of his scepter and continued, "Furthermore... contrary to what you might expect, according to my intelligence, despite being a red dragon, this Cinder Emperor's stance does not lean toward the Dragon Queen. He signed an alliance pact with the Melvold Clan, permitted silver dragons into the core organs of imperial power, and has even prayed to Lord Bahamut—though that was merely to obtain aid. Meanwhile, the chromatic dragons are also doing their utmost to court Cassius. They have sent blue dragon emissaries on several occasions in hopes of securing his offspring."
At this point, Crassus raised his head, a glimmer stirring in his pale gold eyes that resembled pools of molten gold. "My friends, the Mother of Evil Dragons is awakening. She seeks to return to this world and bring catastrophe upon it. But our revered Lord of the North Wind, Lord Bahamut, will never allow it. The protracted war between metallic and chromatic dragons is very likely to erupt once more. And which way the scales of victory will tip may well depend on that neutral, volatile variable—the Cinder Emperor, Cassius."
Having heard the great wyrm's words, the younger gold dragons fell dead silent, not daring to utter another peep. After all, this was a monumental matter concerning the future of their entire race; they were in no position to pass rash judgments.
Samuel hesitated a moment before asking, "Then what should we do? Are we to simply ignore Walter?"
Crassus sighed. "He cannot win. Let us dispatch an ancient dragon to preserve Walter's life as best we can. That is the greatest effort we can offer."
Just then, a deep, powerful, and remarkably sonorous voice rang out.
"I object."
Instantly, the eyes of every gold dragon present were drawn toward the speaker—the ancient gold dragon known as the Wings of Dawn, Titus.
"Does possessing progenitor blood give one leave to flout righteousness and justice? The Dragon Queen is far more powerful than this so-called Cinder Emperor—must we submit to Her as well, merely out of reverence for raw power?"
Titus's voice was resonant and resolute, brimming with heartfelt passion as though pouring straight from the depths of his soul, moving every gold dragon in the chamber.
The ancient dragon's eyes burned fiercely, his golden scales shimmering with radiant light. In this moment, he truly looked like the dawn's first light, capable of piercing the night and bringing salvation to the world.
Crassus's expression darkened slightly, but he still tried to explain: "We are merely pursuing a greater, more magnificent goal. That, too, is justice..."
"Justice achieved through wicked and craven compromise is no true justice at all!"
By now, Titus—or rather, Cassius—was thoroughly lost in his role. He struck the table and rose, declaring with righteous indignation: "Lord Crassus, I know nothing of this talk of Dragon Kings, third-generation progenitor dragons, or bloodline revival! All I know is that a tyrannical red dragon seeks to plunder the lands of the virtuous, and we, the gold dragon clan, are choosing to turn a blind eye! And I know that true gold dragons who follow the Way of Bahamut would never tolerate such a deed unfolding before their eyes, much less ignore it!"
Cassius's voice grew increasingly impassioned and thunderous, striking the ears of the assembled dragons like a clarion bell. That reality-warping charisma of his was once again working its magic.
Watching the reactions of the gold dragons, Cassius chuckled inwardly: *What the hell does Bahamut know about the Way of Bahamut? Nobody understands it better than me!*
Chapter 603