"That's a vassal of Kazul, the Crimson Embers! We cannot let down our guard!"
Adrian instantly tightened his grip on his longsword, sweat beading on his forehead—unsure whether it was from the blazing heat radiating from the red dragon scion or the nervous dread churning in his chest.
"Kill her!"
"No need to fear! She's only one person, and there are more than ten of us! Once the dwarven reinforcements arrive, she's as good as dead!" the dwarven shieldmaiden shouted, raising her battleaxe toward the others.
Rolf Fitzgerald, the accompanying wizard, hurried up beside Adrian with sheer panic on his face, whispering, "My lord, we must not provoke her lightly."
"For this dragon scion to appear here, she must have driven off—or even slain—that adult green dragon. Even if we all rush her at once, we may not be able to defeat her."
Hearing Rolf's warning, Adrian nodded heavily and signaled with his hand for the men at his flanks to fall back.
Seeing this, the dwarven woman flared with fury. "Cowards! She's a monster's thrall! You think she'll spare you if you back down?"
With that, she brandished her battleaxe and led the dwarven warriors forward in a roaring charge.
Yet the dragon scion woman merely flicked a hand. Fire surged forth like a giant serpent, transforming into scalding magical chains that bound the dwarves firmly to the ground, leaving them completely unable to move.
"Dragon lackey! Even if you kill me, you can never kill our will to resist! Seleucia will never belong to the wretched worshippers of the Dragon Queen!" the dwarven warrior cursed, struggling frantically despite her injuries.
The dragon scion woman countered coldly, "Who told you... that I worship the Dragon Queen?"
Brilliant flames welled in her eyes, and a terrifying aura of draconic majesty rolled out, sending palpitations through everyone present and making it hard to breathe.
She gave a soft chuckle, her voice remarkably aloof. "Heh. If I were truly with the Cult of the Dragon, you would have been reduced to ashes long ago, just like those acolytes back there."
The dwarven woman demanded indignantly, "Then who in the world are you? Why hide your face, and how do you wield the power of an evil dragon?"
Adrian was far more composed. Stepping forward, he bowed in a standard Fadlan noble courtesy and said in a low voice, "My lady, thank you for stepping in just now to save us from certain death. But I do not know your name. Could you be... one of our Second Fadlan Alliance?"
The dragon scion replied, "I have not joined your so-called alliance, but like you, I count the Cult of the Dragon as my enemy."
Adrian and Rolf exchanged a glance, both wearing puzzled expressions. Which faction possessed the power of red dragon blood, yet treated the Cult of the Dragon as an enemy?
As if reading their thoughts, the woman drew a medallion from her sumptuous robes—carved with the emblem of a vertical pupil and swirling flames—and displayed it before them.
"I am Misha, First-Rank Duchess of the Empire, vassal to the Ruler of the North, Sovereign of Anzeta and Thrace, the Supreme Cinder Emperor Cassius."
"I come on my master's orders, upholding justice and righteousness, specifically to assist you in overthrowing the Cult of the Dragon and ending their tyrannical rule."
"The Cinder Empire? How... how is that possible?"
Hearing this, both the humans and dwarves showed stunned disbelief, their hearts sinking.
That mysterious, formidable empire hailing from the far north was a realm ruled by a red dragon—one of the chromatic dragons.
In everyone's impression, the Cinder Empire waged ceaseless war, cruel and tyrannical, enslaving its populace, having even obliterated one of the three great realms, the Kingdom of Thrace, in a single stroke.
Furthermore, according to the propaganda of the Cult of the Dragon, the Cinder Emperor was Tiamat's most favored scion, hailed by the chromatic dragons as the 'Dragon Prince,' and the Cinder Empire would soon become part of the great Draconic Empire.
The dwarven woman shouted in even greater outrage, roaring, "I knew it! You're in league with those dragon-worshipping cultists! You're all just lackeys of evil dragons—what difference is there between you?"
Misha's gaze turned chillingly cold. With a slight curl of her finger, an overwhelmingly immense force crushed down on the dwarven woman, sinking her body into the dirt until her bones groaned on the verge of splintering.
Her tone was icy and menacing. "This is your final warning, dwarf. Know your place. Insulting the Cinder Emperor is a crime worthy of the gallows. Were it not for my master's mercy, specifically commanding me to treat you rebels with grace, to show you the truth so you may join the empire in destroying the Cult of the Dragon, you would already be a pile of ash."
Adrian hurried forward, pleading anxiously, "Lady Misha, please show mercy! These dwarves are merely blunt and reckless; they meant no offense!"
"I should hope not."
Only then did Misha disperse the crushing pressure. Severely battered, the dwarven woman knelt gasping for air, her eyes fixed on Misha with burning suspicion and hostility.
"Humans... red dragon scions... none can be trusted..."
After all, these dwarves had been enslaved by the Cult of the Dragon for years. They had lived on the run, suffering endless humiliation, sometimes even ending up as fodder for the dragons. Their hatred for anything carrying dragon blood ran bone-deep, and they wished for nothing more than to slaughter every last one.
"With my master's might and renown, what need would he have to deceive nobodies like you?" Misha sneered again.
Adrian pondered for a moment, then asked with measured composure, "Duchess Misha, may I ask what kind of aid the empire is willing to provide us?"
Misha replied, "Military equipment, gold and provisions, even powerful warriors—the empire has it all, and can supply everything you need."
"Then... what does the empire require of us?" Adrian asked cautiously.
Misha didn't answer directly. Instead, she tossed over a medallion engraved with the imperial crest and said coldly, "When you have made up your minds, activate this token. My master will be waiting for you in Isdalia."
Adrian hastily caught the token, feeling somewhat at a loss.
Before her voice even finished fading, Misha's form dissolved into swirling fire, the surrounding space warping until she vanished on the spot with a sharp pop of displaced air, leaving everyone staring at each other in bewildered silence.
After a long silence, Rolf was the first to speak. "Lord Adrian, what should we do? We have no way of knowing whether this invitation from the Cinder Empire is genuine, but it is undeniably perilous in the extreme. If this is a trap set by the Dragon Cult... we would be walking straight into the net."
The wizard paced back and forth, looking grave. "Besides, the Cinder Empire's reputation is hardly better than that of the Cult of the Dragon. Rumor has it their armies are composed of ferocious dragon beasts that devour a thousand children wherever they go, and that they imprison mortal souls within their firearms—supposedly the very reason they are invincible in battle."
The dwarven woman struggled to her feet, spitting spitefully, "Those wretches with dragon blood coursing through their veins are wicked to the core. They can never be trusted."
"Right! We've seen their greed, cruelty, and shamelessness with our own eyes! For all we know, they're just luring you there to be sacrifices!" another dwarf chimed in, shouting with indignant fury.
Adrian, however, maintained a composed expression as he stroked his chin. "Yet with the power she demonstrated just now... if she harbored ill intent, she could have easily captured all of us and offered us to the Dragon Queen. There would have been no need for such elaborate theatrics."
Bandaging her wounds and pressing down hard on her cracked bones with a sickening crunch, the dwarven warrior warned in a low, grim voice, "The Dragon Queen's dogs are the foulest, most cunning schemers. You must never let your guard down."
A human fighter who had accompanied him also stepped forward to urge him, "Lord Adrian, let us head into the mines first. Our safety should come before all else. The dragon cultists cannot find us for now. But if too much time passes and they discover the deaths of those acolytes, they'll launch a massive manhunt... and then we won't be able to escape."
Adrian looked toward the dark clouds hanging over the south. After a long moment of silence, he slowly shook his head. "No. I am going to the Cinder Empire to seek an audience with that emperor. Even if it is a trap, I am willing to take the chance."
He tightened his grip on his longsword, his voice heavy with solemnity. "Now evil dragons run rampant, the people are suffering, and that mad Cult of the Dragon has nearly overrun the entire Kingdom of Seleucia. This... is our last chance."
Rolf took a step forward, standing behind Adrian, his slender frame straightening with determination. "My lord, I will go with you to the Cinder Empire, so that peace may return to Seleucia."
"Lord Adrian, we..." The human warrior hesitated, words caught in his throat.
Adrian waved a hand. "I know you do not wish to go with me. Follow these dwarven warriors into the mines. If all goes well, I will return with the Cinder Empire's aid. If several days pass and I have not returned, do not wait for me—fight the Cult of the Dragon with all your might." His tone was resolute, carrying unquestionable resolve.
With that, Adrian channeled his divine energy into the medallion. The flame sigil instantly flared to life, and a spatial portal wreathed in raging fire appeared before them.
Without hesitation, Adrian stepped through, with Rolf following right behind him.
The remaining fighters stood dumbfounded, staring at the spot where they had vanished, unable to look away for a long time.
After a heavy silence, the dwarven woman waved her hand and grunted, "If they want to march straight into the dragon's maw, let them. There's nothing we can do about it."
...
Whoosh—
The spatial portal opened, and Adrian and Rolf stepped out, still somewhat dazed.
Yet when their senses returned, their expressions instantly froze, completely awestruck—the sight before them could only be described as magnificent, utterly unlike the living hell they had envisioned.
"Is this... the capital of the Cinder Empire?" Adrian murmured in disbelief.
In the distance stood towering, colossal white city walls stretching endlessly like a continuous mountain range of snow. Built into the walls were metal gates engraved with wyverns, while atop them were mounted gigantic mechanical ballistas and anti-air cannons.
Despite the towering height of the walls, one could still glimpse magnificent structures within: palaces forged from steel, high-rises clad in crystal, and farther in the distance, stone mountains piercing into the clouds—a breathtaking marvel.
Outside the walls, tall watchtowers stood every few hundred meters. Atop each tower perched a massive, armor-clad wyvern, keeping a vigilant, predatory watch over the crowds below.
Outside the city, throngs of people surged like an endless tide. The crowd was a diverse tapestry of races: humanoids like humans and elves, alongside monstrous folk like lizardfolk and ogres.
Yet within this staggering metropolis, they all waited in orderly queues, undergoing inspection by the tieflings and half-red dragons guarding the gates.
"Wrooo—!"
A piercing screech like a roaring beast tore through the sky from behind them, followed by a dense, rhythmic cadence of "footsteps."
The citizens of the empire seemed long accustomed to it, not even bothering to glance over as they focused on entering the city. But Adrian and Rolf spun around in high alert.
"Wh-what is that?"
A colossal, serpentine beast of steel came thundering toward them, belching thick black smoke as if launching a charge.
What an enormous monster!
What terrifying momentum!
Horrified, Adrian and Rolf gripped their staff and sword, nearly crying out in alarm.
Just then, an impatient grumble came from behind them: "Another country bumpkin from the south who's never even seen a steam train... If you're not riding, get the hell out of the way! What are you blocking the path for?"
The speaker was a young man in his twenties carrying a briefcase and wearing a cheap tailcoat, looking quite hurried.
Adrian turned around. Relieved to see a genuine human standing behind him, he let out a breath.
Thinking for a moment, he fished out a silver coin from his tunic, handed it over, and asked cautiously, "Excuse me, sir, what is that thing? Why isn't anyone here afraid of it?"
The young man took the silver coin, his face immediately lighting up with a beaming smile as he stepped forward to vigorously shake Adrian's hand. "Oh, you're far too polite! No need for 'sir'—just call me Xiven. Anyone can tell you're new here and don't know much about the empire. That thing is a steam locomotive. It's the most common form of transport in the empire, just like your horse carriages back south."
Xiven pulled a card from his breast pocket and shoved it into Adrian's hands. "By the way, are you in the market for firearms? Here's my business card. I'm a sales manager with the Claubau Military Industry Group, and I can get you the best discount around."
"Thank you..." Adrian was somewhat flustered by this sudden burst of enthusiastic friendliness.
Right then, the steel beast slowed as smoothly as a trained steed, grinding to a halt nearby while puffing rhythmic plumes of smoke.
Before Adrian's astonished eyes, passengers filed out of its massive body in an orderly line, while a crisp female voice broadcast from inside the beast: "Please maintain order and board in an orderly fashion—"
Adrian observed the people closely.
Though they looked hurried and weary, not a single face was pale with starvation, nor did anyone bear the scars of a whip.
"Rolf."
"My lord?"
"We made the right gamble. It seems the Cinder Empire really is... nothing like the den of monsters rumored in the south."
Chapter 772