Reinforcements

"So... so that was how it happened. To think even that angelic king was seduced by devils, falling into such a state." Adrian gazed up at the fallen angel in the magical projection, his eyes filled with shock. Wilhelm's pact with Hell was already common knowledge within the Empire, hardly any secret. Especially in the Thrace Administrative Region, imperial officials had broadcast the matter far and wide, framing Wilhelm as a traitor who abandoned his people to collude with Hell, while portraying the Cinder Empire as heroic liberators rescuing the populace from misery. In a sense, the Empire's propaganda was truthful; it was merely selective in what it reported. In other regions, however—particularly former Fadlan lands like the Kingdoms of Cassander and Seleucia—nobles and officials deliberately concealed this truth, depicting the Cinder Empire instead as bloodthirsty thugs who had invaded Thrace to slaughter the Fadlan remnants. After all, only by doing so could they rally their populace to resist imperial expansion. "It matters not. I have long grown accustomed to the slander and gossip leveled against the Empire. I believe reality will shatter their preconceptions." Cassius fixed his gaze on the paladin, his narrow, golden slit pupils radiating sincerity. "Adrian, I have always maintained that the Cinder Empire is the true inheritor of Holy Fadlan's spiritual legacy—a realm truly capable of proclaiming the sun's radiance. "And you can be a friend of the Empire. You can be the blade that holds back Tiamat!" The Red Dragon Emperor spoke with ringing conviction. The sun behind him cast golden brilliance that outlined his majestic silhouette, exuding an aura of sublime sanctity. His supernatural charisma seemed to distort reality itself. In Adrian's eyes, the Red Dragon Emperor's figure loomed immense and glorious, akin to an angel standing in the divine realm. Deeply moved, Adrian rose to his feet and said in a solemn voice, "Your Majesty, thank you for your favor. What would you have me do?" Cassius turned his head, gazing toward the south with a grave expression. "I only wish for you to halt the atrocities of the Cult of the Dragon, save the Seleucia region, and keep Feanso from plunging into cataclysm. "I will provide you with the Empire's finest arms and equipment, so that those vile dragonbeasts may be cast down from the sky, unable to torment mortals any longer." He snapped his talons, and ogre soldiers immediately carried out racks of rusted anti-air cannons, setting them below the Grand Altar of Isdalia in their dozens—numbering well over a hundred. Yet had any knowledgeable imperial subject been present, they would have recognized these as the "Thunder's Wrath" artillery pieces gathering dust in imperial armories, relics that only irregular troops bothered to haul out on occasion. Beholding the weaponry, however, Adrian knelt on one knee in sheer excitement. "Thank you, Your Majesty! I will never disappoint your expectations, and I shall drive Tiamat from Seleucia!" "I will also dispatch the Empire's most loyal and fearless warriors. Possessing the gift of immortality, they shall aid your fight against the Dragon Queen." "Immortal warriors?" Hearing this, Adrian and Rolf both shuddered inwardly. Though they hailed from the south, they had heard rumors of the Cinder Empire's legion of immortals. Gossip claimed these unyielding fighters were spawned through heinous necromancy and unholy pacts with vile gods, each forged at the cost of hundreds of mortal lives, every one of them an engine of pure savagery. Cassius caught their hesitant looks, guessed their thoughts, and gave an easy chuckle. "They are brave champions from another world, descended to this earth alongside falling stars. Those rumors are utter nonsense. "Besides, there are millions of Starfallen throughout the Empire now, and traces of them have appeared across other lands as well. Could I truly have sacrificed the entire Empire?" Adrian hastened to apologize. "Forgive us, Your Majesty. It seems our prejudices ran too deep..." Cassius nodded dismissively, extending a talon. Flames surged as law-power shimmering with motes of mystical light coalesced, gradually forming a compact stone stele. "This is an imperial token, as well as a specialized teleportation circle. Simply place it on the ground and infuse it with magical energy, and the Empire's warriors will arrive before you in endless waves." "Thank you, Your Majesty." Adrian was overwhelmed with gratitude; he had never imagined receiving such generous aid. "A permanent teleportation circle? Th-this is far too valuable!" Rolf's jaw dropped in astonishment. As a wizard, he understood all too well the worth of a permanent teleportation circle; even archmages struggled to craft such a marvel. Yet this Emperor bestowed it upon them without a second thought, with such magnanimity. Was this truly the creature etched in legend as the greediest, stingiest kind of red dragon? The Emperor before them scarcely seemed like a dragon at all. "Go, Adrian. Halt the atrocities of the Cult of the Dragon, prevent Tiamat's descent, and know that the Cinder Empire will always stand behind you." In the eyes of Adrian and Rolf, the Cinder Emperor before them appeared ever more profound and unfathomable, his stature looming increasingly magnificent. "Your Majesty." Both Adrian and Rolf bowed in deep reverence, their hearts moved, utterly won over by this generous, forgiving, and righteous sovereign. Watching their retreating backs, the corners of Cassius's mouth curled into an amused dragon smile. Under Trump's orchestration, the Cinder Empire had already initiated full-scale military mobilization. Portions of Cassius's conversation with Adrian would be published in the Imperial Daily, circulated to every corner of the realm. Under official guidance, the imperial populace would learn the hideous face of Tiamat and enthusiastically join the war against the Chromatic Dragon Queen. Once Adrian and his allies bogged down the Cult of the Dragon in a protracted war of attrition, the Cinder Empire would sweep south with unstoppable momentum, scale the Carmatz Mountains, swallow the entire Seleucia region whole, and claim the greater part of the former Fadlan Empire's territory for itself. "Soon, I will claim the second Tower of the Eternal Sun God. The path to godhood... is within reach," Cassius murmured, looking south. *** After taking their leave of the Cinder Emperor, Adrian and Rolf—aided by an escort of tieflings—traveled across tens of thousands of miles through a portal opened by imperial court mages, returning to the Kingdom of Seleucia laden with a massive consignment of munitions and equipment. Deep inside an underground mine shaft, dragonfang dwarves and humans were bandaging their wounds, discussing how to shake off the pursuing forces of the Cult of the Dragon. Just then, dense, heavy footsteps echoed from the tunnel ahead, accompanied by the sharp tang of sulfur and gunpowder, stretching their frayed nerves taut once more. Could it be cultists from the Cult of the Dragon? In an instant, dwarves hoisted battleaxes, while humans gripped longswords, bows, and staves. The air in the mine turned stiflingly tense, nearly freezing solid. Arrows were nocked to bowstrings, aimed straight at the tunnel's opening, sweat slicking every palm. "Bloody lapdogs! Even hidden down here they sniff us out!" a female dwarf growled through gritted teeth. "Let's take them down with us!" A human warrior raised a hand to signal the rest. "Wait... those are... hellspawn! Are they Tiamat's lackeys too?" "Who goes there? Drop your weapons at once!" "They're lapdogs of the Cult of the Dragon, I tell you! Don't forget that vile god of theirs is sealed in Hell too!" the dwarves roared aggressively. Just then, a familiar voice called out from among the tieflings. "Stand down, everyone! It's me! We've returned—with aid from the Cinder Empire!" The tension vanished, replaced by looks of immense relief and delight. Adrian and Rolf stepped forward from the escort. Behind them were crate upon crate of arms and munitions. The lieutenant rushed forward to embrace Adrian, exclaiming excitedly, "Splendid! You've returned so soon—and brought back so much gear..." A dwarf pried open a crate, stared at the firearms inside, and muttered quizzically, "Can these fire pokers really help us kill dragons?" A knowledgeable human soldier stepped up, lifted a rifle to examine it closely, and stared at the insignia stamped onto the metal, his voice trembling with excitement. "It really is genuine stock from the Claubau Military Industry Group, not some shoddy knockoff! "These firearms and cannons are enough to outfit a legion of a thousand men, giving us a real foothold in northern Seleucia!" Rolf spoke in a low voice. "The most critical question right now is—where do we go? Communications everywhere have been severed by the Cult of the Dragon, and dragonbeasts and cultists are swarming all over. We have no grasp of the surrounding situation." The female dwarf, silent for a long while, suddenly spoke up: "Green Valley Town. It hasn't fallen yet. Duke Franz is stationed there with his royal guards." Adrian frowned. "Isn't Duke Franz in the east leading the Second Fadlan coalition against the cult's main host? How did he end up here?" The female dwarf sighed. "'Crimson Cinders' appeared out of nowhere. His dragonfire slaughtered over ten thousand coalition troops, and Duke Franz was grievously wounded, fleeing all the way here with his remnants. "Except..." "Except what?" The female dwarf looked up, her tone heavy. "The cult's Legion of Tiamat's Claws is converging on Green Valley Town. Word has it the Dragon Queen herself handed down an oracle demanding Duke Franz be wiped out to the last man. "When the time comes, there will be at least ten chromatic dragons, over a hundred dragonbeasts, and thousands of cultists gathering there." Silence fell over the mine. Everyone understood what those numbers meant. The human lieutenant stepped forward to urge caution: "My Lord, that is not a battle we can take part in. We are merely displaced stragglers. How could we possibly face those terrifying dragons..." "I have had enough." Adrian's tone was ironclad. "I have had enough of running, enough of fleeing like hunted beasts. If we keep running like this, will Seleucia be saved? Will the cultists be driven out? "Today we lose a city; tomorrow we forfeit a town. As long as we do not fight back, the greed of those evil dragons will swallow us whole! "Since they wish to wage war and slaughter us to the last man..." Adrian tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword, a resolute fire kindling in his eyes. "...then we march to Green Valley Town, rendezvous with Duke Franz, and crush those damned dragons and cultists!" With a sharp clang, he drew his longsword. "Seleucia belongs solely to the valiant people of Fadlan. It shall never become a domain for evil dragons!" He swept his gaze across the gathered faces, his eyes burning with unrestrained fury. "Can you truly endure watching those beasts slaughter our kin and pillage our wealth any longer?" Adrian threw his arm up and cried out passionately, "We must fight! We must seek our freedom! We will never become slaves to evil dragons, even if it costs us our lives! "To Green Valley Town! To the death!" "To the death!" The dragonfang dwarves were the first to stand, hoisting their hammers and battleaxes aloft to roar alongside Adrian. Next came the battered humans, releasing low, guttural roars that unleashed their long-pent-up fury. They had fled for far too long. Now, with a chance to fight right before them, they would make those wicked dragons and cultists pay their debts in blood! *** Cinder Empire, Thrace Administrative Region, Auguste. Inside the Thrace Arena, Mantou swooped down from the sky astride a wyvern, plunging his spear through the chest of a hide-armored paladin. But instead of cheers, a chorus of boos erupted from the spectator stands. "Booooo—!" "Old thief Mantou, go update your damn videos! Quit showing off here!" "Shameless bastard! What level are you, you old fossil, and you still enter a rookie arena tournament?" Mantou grinned, pressing a finger to his lips in a shushing gesture toward the stands. "There wasn't any level cap in the tournament rules," he gloated. "Who says max-level players can't compete? "Shouldn't you all be cheering for my stellar performance? A one-hit kill! Look at how cool that form was!" "Drop out! Drop out! Drop out!" "Shameless old thief!" The boos swelled even louder, rolling across the stands like breaking waves. Someone even hurled a rotten egg, though it splashed harmlessly against the arena's protective barrier, sparing Mantou's smug mug. Watching the furious crowd, the host's face twitched as he stammered awkwardly, "Uh, let us congratulate contestant 'I Don't Eat Mantou' for winning the championship of this Rising Star Cup, earning a set of Defender Armor and a Novice Steel Sword..." "Thank you, thank you!" Mantou took the uncommon-tier green gear, waving beamingly at the stands, which prompted another barrage of curses. Returning to the competitor waiting area, Mantou noticed a special quest pop up on his status interface. Delight instantly washed over his face. "Is this... a new main storyline quest?" Dragon Tyranny [Quest Description: After a millennium, the devotees of Tiamat walk the earth once more, casting the suffocating shadow of dragonkind across the realm. The Cult of the Dragon has allied with chromatic dragons, dragonkin, and human traitors to burn, pillage, and perform unholy rituals in a bid to shatter Tiamat's seal in the Nine Hells and return her to the Material Plane. Brave warriors, unite with the resistance organization known as "Second Fadlan" to thwart the Cult of the Dragon's nefarious schemes through investigation, combat, and other endeavors. —As the bards sing: "When dragon wings blot out the sun, heroes tread through flame; yet though tyranny may perish, greed endures forever."]