At the summit of the Grand Altar of Isdalia, Cassius sat upon the marble throne newly constructed to accommodate his growing size, exhaling a plume of scalding white smoke.
"Having said all this, you should know what needs to be done..."
Below the throne, more than a hundred clan leaders from across the empire—ogres, hobgoblins, tieflings, lizardfolk, and wyverns—gathered together.
Numerous retainers of special status, such as white dragons and chimeras, crowded around the altar to claim their places, and even over a dozen player representatives were present.
By now, the empire's population approached ten million. Its internal ethnic makeup had grown increasingly complex, and its administrative structure was becoming somewhat bloated.
Most of those present were members of the Imperial Senate, nearly every one holding a title of count or higher—prominent figures who truly steered society. Yet, of course, only a single being held the power to decide the empire's fate: the Cinder Emperor.
"Ruaaa! Slaughter them all, pillage all their coin! Show these damned humans what you're made of! Oh, and don't forget to loot all the frozen meat from their larders!"
Cassius did not even need to look up to know who had shouted that.
Sure enough, the white dragon Tinia was swishing her tail and holding her head high, roaring with frantic excitement, eager to fly south and start plundering right this moment.
The red dragon simply ignored her suggestion, looking around and sweeping a cool gaze across his followers.
After a moment's thought, Duoluo—who served concurrently as Imperial Army Field Marshal and Minister of War—stepped forward and dropped to one knee.
"Your Majesty, while Miss Tinia's words may be exaggerated, they are not entirely without merit. You once said, 'Truth lies only within the range of artillery.' This operation will be the empire's debut on the continent of Feanso, and we must leave a 'deep' impression upon them. We should crush their armies, hang every rebel from the gallows, and turn their cities into smoke-choked ruins, striking true terror into the hearts of these insolent provocateurs!"
Duoluo's report rang out with forceful cadence, allowing everyone present to feel his confidence and resolve, as well as the visceral ruthlessness within him.
Cassius gave him a calm glance, offering neither approval nor objection.
Dragonblood monsters—this was the true nature beneath the Cinder Empire's dazzling facade.
The beasts within their hearts had been confined within the empire's iron cage for far too long; only in war could they be completely unleashed to indulge their thirst for brutality and destruction.
Yet Trump immediately stepped forward as well, speaking with calm fluency under Duoluo's unfriendly glare. "Master, I believe Duke Duoluo is still far too extreme. His emotion has overtaken his reason, to the point of potentially harming the empire's interests. He is no longer suited to oversee this operation."
"Trump, you—"
"Duke Duoluo, please abide by proper procedure and speak in turn."
Before Duoluo could protest, Trump invoked a higher level of authority, freezing the air around him so that he could not even utter a sound.
"Destroying everything in North Aethel might sound cathartic, but it will only provoke hostility from all the major powers across Feanso, perhaps even compelling them to unite against what they would see as our 'vast and evil empire.' What we must do is demonstrate the empire's might and secure a firm foothold on the continent of Feanso. Therefore, we should capitalize fully on the advantages of our mechanized and spell-augmented forces. Before anyone can react, we strike like lightning, completely annihilating the powers entrenched in North Aethel. Afterward, we will occupy all its cities, forcing the other powers to hold their noses and acknowledge the empire's existence."
"But that damned human insulted His Majesty! He insulted the empire!"
"We can't just let them off so easily!"
"Right! Make them pay! Let them witness the empire's iron tide with their own eyes!"
Hobgoblin and bugbear officers brandished their weapons and shouted belligerently—such was the prevailing mood in the Cinder Empire today.
To these extreme warmongers, even the slightest resistance or failure to bow in submission was a grievous insult to the empire and to His Majesty Cassius, an offense that demanded a "grievous price."
Among the empire's current leadership, almost no doves remained—only hawks and comparatively less extreme hawks. Pacifists like Olivia had long since been shoved away from the core of power.
"But that runs counter to the empire's interests! It only satisfies the destructive urges of fools like you!"
"What we demand is the empire's interests! The authority of His Majesty Cassius is inviolable! Anyone who dares challenge it should be crushed to dust!"
"I say you're blinded by greed! You claim it's to uphold His Majesty's dignity, but in truth, you just want to expend more artillery shells so you can line your pockets with more gold! His Majesty Cassius has said that senseless slaughter only breeds trouble. His Majesty wants a realm of order, not a den of beasts!"
And so, over the strategy for marching south, the two factions atop the Grand Altar of Isdalia erupted into a fierce debate once more, spittle flying in all directions. Both sides cited Cassius's own past words as proof, each accusing the other of lacking loyalty and failing to consider the empire's best interests, quoting scripture, as it were, to support their claims.
Yet Cassius had no patience to listen further. He simply lifted his gaze, and the quarreling crowd fell silent in an instant. The raucous assembly became as quiet as cicadas in winter.
The retainers looked up one after another, over a hundred pairs of eyes focusing upon the red dragon's massive bulk.
Cassius looked down upon them all and said in an even tone, "Three days. Within three days, I expect the empire fully transitioned into a state of war."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
Be they ogres, hobgoblins, humans, tieflings, or the even larger monsters and drake-beasts, all dropped to one knee and bowed their heads respectfully, answering in unison.
In the Cinder Empire, every word and deed of the emperor was studied, scrutinized, and followed by all. Publishing houses had even printed collections of the Emperor's Precepts, which sold prodigiously throughout the land.
Three days—that was the deadline Cassius had given.
For any normal great power, completing war mobilization in three days would be virtually impossible. But the Cinder Empire was different.
Entering a state of war was as simple as pressing a button to start an engine, because in a sense, the empire had never truly known peace.
—Munitions factories churned out arms and ammunition without pause, and the imperial military drilled continuously, ready at any moment to be deployed south along the sprawling rail network.
It was an intricate machine meticulously crafted for war by Cassius and the imperial high command, with every citizen an involuntary cog within its works.
And now, with the emperor's decree, this terrifying machine was about to be fully engaged, belching thick smoke across the vast continent of Feanso.
...
By this time, the city of Isdalia had erupted into total fervor. Even hundreds of meters up in the sky, one could hear the frenzied cheers of the populace and the stirring, rhythmic cadences of the Hymn of Cassius.
On the stairs of the Grand Altar, Olivia, clad in a crisp black gown and clutching a thick stack of documents, hurried toward the apex of the empire.
Soon, however, heavily armored tiefling guards leveled their spears and crossed them before her.
"Apologies, Lady Olivia. His Majesty is speaking privately with Lord Trump. Without His Majesty's oral order, we cannot let you pass."
"But... I have urgent matters to discuss with His Majesty!" Olivia's expression was grave and her words rushed, her silver hair visibly disheveled.
Ignoring the guards' blockade, she cried out toward the summit, "Your Majesty Cassius—!"
"Let her in."
The familiar voice drifted down from atop the altar. The tiefling guards obeyed at once, pulling back their spears and allowing the silver-haired young woman through.
Olivia strode forward. What met her eyes was a red dragon far more massive and alien than in her memory, coiled atop the altar like an idol in a temple, built for worship and veneration.
For some reason, the silver dragon felt that Cassius had grown infinitely distant, as if he were no longer the dragon she could once converse with, but rather an exalted being seen only in myth and legend.
Though they shared the same world, they seemed to inhabit different dimensions, parallel and separated—close enough to touch, yet completely unreachable.
All the speeches she had prepared on the way up lodged in her throat, refusing to come out.
Biting her lip, Olivia hesitated for a long while before gathering the courage to speak. "Your Majesty Cassius, you... have lied to me again."
"You promised once. You said the Cinder Empire would only sell weapons and bring a better life to its people, that it would never invade foreign lands or initiate an aggressive war. Back then, I believed you. I voluntarily joined the Imperial Council, traveling far and wide on behalf of the people, hoping the Cinder Empire would become a better, more orderly realm."
Olivia lifted her head with stubborn defiance, tears welling in her eyes, her voice growing choked and breaking into a sob.
"Yes... you lied to me once again. You claimed the empire would not provoke a war, but what about now? I saw your declaration of war with my own eyes—or rather, your manifesto of invasion!"
Cassius grinned and said calmly, "Olivia, the Cinder Empire has always pursued peace..."
Infuriated, Olivia could not help questioning him sharply, "Peace? Your soldiers are mobilizing along those railways, countless terrifying weapons are being shipped south, and you are about to unleash an even greater catastrophe upon North Aethel!"
"A catastrophe? I do not see it as bringing catastrophe. Quite clearly, I am bringing peace to Feanso."
Cassius rose slowly, stretching his frame and shaking his head slightly. His demeanor and tone were entirely relaxed, devoid of the solemnity appropriate for impending war.
"Do you know, Olivia? The War of the Three Emperors has raged for three years, and even now shows no sign of ending. According to figures from the Imperial Bureau of Statistics, at least eight and a half million people have died in it, not to mention the countless refugees displaced and ruined. And all of that was merely for the selfish ambitions of three kings.
"I have grown tired of the unending flames of war across this land. I wish to bring peace and order to the tens of millions living in Fadlan—to grant them true peace."
Olivia scoffed mercilessly, "And this 'peace' of yours is to be achieved through conquest?"
To her surprise, Cassius actually nodded, saying with deep meaning, "War is the necessary path to peace. It is not an end, but merely a means. Once the three kingdoms are crushed in succession, the empire will bring true order to the continent of Feanso—a peace lasting at least a century, just as Holy Fadlan did in days past."
"You... you intend to destroy all three kingdoms?"
The red dragon spoke with righteous conviction, "Naturally. They are the fountainhead of every war. It is precisely these so-called godbloods, lording over the masses and stopping at nothing to fight over the old emperor's legacy, who have wrought so many tragedies across Feanso."
Cassius spoke with ringing certainty, entirely resolute, as if he were the righteous champion rather than a shameless conqueror.
Olivia trembled with fury. "This—this is pure sophistry! I have had enough of your glib tongue and empty pretexts! Your Majesty Cassius, stop dressing yourself in these fine words! You are doing this purely for your own selfish desires! To expand your territory! This is an outright war of aggression! You are sacrificing your own people, bartering their lives for profit!"
At that moment, the silver dragon's emotions erupted completely.
As a creature naturally inclined toward goodness, she could not bear to stand by and watch a war of aggression unfold—especially when she herself was counted among the aggressors. It was intolerable to any metallic dragon.
"Selfish desires?"
The red dragon grinned, shaking his head with immense confidence and breathing out a gust of sulfurous smoke.
"No, you are mistaken, Olivia."
Suddenly, he reached out with a colossal talon, grasping the silver dragon in her human guise. He then unfurled his vast wings and beat them, kicking up a furious gale as he soared into the air from the summit of the Grand Altar of Isdalia.
"Cassius, what are you doing?!"
Olivia cried out, forgetting all honorifics in her panic. But as a mere young silver dragon, she was utterly powerless to resist the red dragon he had become.
Cassius said, "I simply want you to see something clearly."
"See what?!"
Looking down at the ground from high above, Olivia saw that Isdalia was buzzing with feverish activity. Towering smokestacks belched plumes of thick smoke, and steel behemoths churned and clanked.
In the streets, in the squares, and even beyond the city outskirts, throngs of people packed every open space: commoners in coarse cloth, guards in armor, and nobles draped in robes.
"Conquer those damned southerners! Crush their armies!"
"Long live His Majesty Cassius! Conquest! Conquest! Conquest!"
"For the grand vision of the Cinder Empire!"
Regardless of their status, every imperial citizen wore an expression of wild fanaticism, waving the empire's banners and shouting heated, vulgar slogans.
Even half-grown children had taken to the streets, hawking newspapers and singing catchy, popular tunes in praise of the war.
"This is..."
Looking upon those myriad distinct faces, all united by the same fervor, Olivia felt dazed and struck by bitter irony. She even began to doubt her own actions.
Was she truly "petitioning on behalf of the people"? Or was she merely satisfying her own moral vanity?
Could it be that she was the one standing in the way of history's tide for the sake of her own desires?
Beating his wings, Cassius smiled down at the silver-haired young woman in his talon and said softly, "What I wished to correct is this—this war was not born of my selfish desires at all. Rather, it is...
"The choice of the empire's people."
Chapter 605