"Marshal, word has arrived from the Fourth Legion. Things went very smoothly—they've already taken Kafar."
"Didn't I dispatch them on a scouting and reconnaissance mission?"
Inside the former residence of Duke Shalin—now the Imperial Expeditionary Force's supreme headquarters—the dragonblood hobgoblin Duoluo paused his pen over the official documents and looked up in mild surprise.
The messenger offered a dry chuckle and added, "The Cult of the Dragon no longer has any organized formations. When the legion reached Kafar, the cultists happened to be gathered for a ritual, so the Fourth Legion simply wiped them out while they were at it."
"Indeed, warriors cultivated from His Majesty's own bloodline..." Duoluo mused.
The messenger continued, "The Fourth Legion is currently maintaining order on the ground. They're requesting that headquarters immediately dispatch garrison troops, and they've asked you to provide them with... overtime pay. After all, they claim they went well above and beyond their assigned mission."
Duoluo's expression darkened instantly. "Bullshit! That's insubordination! Frontline military expenditures are already stretched tight! With hundreds of thousands of troops stationed in Seleucia, massive amounts of resources are being consumed every passing moment—every bit of it His Majesty's treasure! And they dare ask for extra compensation?"
"How should we reply, then?"
"Tell them to get lost!"
Duoluo waved an impatient hand and returned his attention to the documents before him.
By now, the coalition forces had brought the greater part of Seleucia under their control, and the Empire held command over the entire coalition. Yet the situation in this land was far more tangled and complicated than they had anticipated.
The native Seleucian nobility—organized as the "Second Fadlan Front" under Duke Adrian—had been constantly trying to reclaim control of the coalition and restore the bygone Kingdom of Seleucia.
Yet the guns and steel were ultimately in imperial hands, so these Seleucians dared not openly break with them. They could only secretly court the local populace to rally support for themselves.
At the same time, the Cult of the Dragon had ruled for so long that many local factions had colluded with them for mutual benefit. Numerous covert forces faithful to Tiamat lurked in the shadows, requiring the Empire to conduct a thorough purge from top to bottom.
Furthermore, dealing with the Faria clan after their surrender was another major headache.
As the largest blue dragon clan in the Taliro Desert, many dragons among the Faria clan shared an irreconcilable, blood-soaked enmity with the Seleucians within the coalition.
Following the conclusion of the Battle of the Rock Great Rift, clamorous demands to punish the blue dragons who had taken part in the fighting grew deafening. Some had even staged demonstrations, demanding the execution of every blue dragon that had participated in the war.
Yet the Faria clan was, after all, the very first true dragon lineage to submit to the Empire. The symbolic significance was immense, and the research value of their bloodlines was extraordinarily high; the imperial upper echelons would never deal harshly with them.
For days now, Duoluo had been mediating between the two sides, smoothing over conflicts and defusing grudges—or, as His Majesty Cassius once put it, "playing the peacemaker and muddling through." He was run ragged, and for someone whose only true passion was slaughter, it was pure agony.
"If His Majesty hadn't ordered that Seleucia's stability must be maintained at all costs until the Red Dragon Sect is crushed, I would've had these troublesome bastards executed by cannon fire long ago!" Duoluo crumpled a document into a ball in sheer frustration, then ripped it to shreds.
Just then, an officer from the General Staff hurried into the room.
"Marshal, another incident has broken out at the plaza!"
"Out with it. What is it now?"
Duoluo tossed the torn scraps aside, irritation lacing his tone.
Seeing his temper, the officer spoke with utmost caution. "It's those old Seleucian nobles. They're demanding that the Empire execute twenty-three blue dragons associated with the Blue Dragon Church, and hand over control of the cities to them..."
"Outrageous! Who gave them the guts?"
Duoluo slammed his palm down, splintering the wooden desk, and shot to his feet. Gritting his teeth, he snarled, "If not for His Majesty's orders, I'd have strung them up on the gallows ages ago! They don't even possess the decency of knowing their place as puppets!"
"Then what are your orders, sir...?"
"Move! I want to see for myself where they got this sudden courage!" Striding forward with furious purpose, Duoluo kicked open the doors and marched toward the Council Hall in towering anger.
...
Shalin City, Council Hall.
Clad in armor with silver swords in hand, Seleucian noble officers had gathered before the city plaza, their voices ringing with passionate fury:
"Seleucia belongs to the Seleucians!"
"Return our sovereignty! Slay the evil dragons!"
"Those blue dragons must pay for their atrocities! This cannot be brushed aside—it is soaked in the blood and tears of the Seleucian people!"
The Seleucian populace had gathered here as well, stirred into a frenzy, raising their arms and shouting, "Vengeance! Vengeance! Make those evil dragons pay!"
Standing amid the crowd was Adrian, commander of the Seleucians within the coalition. Unlike the others, he did not chant in feverish excitement. Instead, he rested his hands on his sword, a look of deep concern clouding his face.
Defying the Empire was undeniably dangerous.
Yet having lived through the horrors of the Dragon Calamity himself, Adrian believed in his heart that those tyrannical blue dragons deserved execution, and that control of Taliro's cities rightfully belonged in Seleucian hands.
Suddenly, startled shouts rippled through the distance.
"Look, it's Marshal Duoluo!"
"It's that hobgoblin! The supreme commander of the Imperials is here!"
Flanked by a multitude of half-dragon and dragonblood hobgoblin guards, Duoluo strode forward at an unhurried pace. His heavy, powerful tread sent faint tremors through the pavement. Standing nearly five meters tall, his massive, muscle-corded frame radiated an overwhelming sense of dread.
Instantly, the citizens who had been shouting at the top of their lungs shut their mouths, falling into dead silence. None dared even lift their eyes to meet his gaze. Even the noble officers who had bellowed most fiercely swallowed hard, their legs quivering.
Duoluo scanned his surroundings, parting his jaws of serrated fangs to produce what he considered a "friendly" smile. "Why are you all gathered here? Has something happened... my dear Seleucian allies?"
The hobgoblin's calm tone carried a crushing weight that suffocated the crowd, evoking the very same terror and despair these Seleucians had felt when confronting true dragons.
Under that suffocating aura, the officers who had shouted the loudest fell utterly mute, lowering their heads in silence, terrified of making eye contact with Duoluo.
It was Duke Adrian who stepped forward, speaking with measured composure: "Good day, Marshal Duoluo. We merely wished to take this opportunity to discuss the two issues of greatest concern to the Seleucian people—administrative authority across the Taliro region, and the trial of the surrendered blue dragons."
Duoluo dropped all pretense, his face hardening as he said coldly, "Such matters can easily be discussed inside the Council Hall. There is no need to assemble out here and waste the coalition's resources. The war is not yet over, and the Red Dragon Sect in the south remains formidable. Are you so impatient to carve up the spoils of war? Know that our Empire has always practiced a democratic system and will give due consideration to your opinions."
A lanky, middle-aged man wearing silver-rimmed spectacles and carrying an air of scholarship stepped forward, plucking up his courage to rebuke: "Marshal Duoluo, the so-called Council Hall established by your Empire is nothing more than a charade to dupe us! We have drafted and submitted over a dozen petitions and proposals, yet not a single issue has been resolved. You have not even bothered to show your face there in person! By Amaunator above, Marshal Duoluo, it seems to me you treat our proposals as waste paper! You merely use the Council Hall as an instrument to stall and brush us aside!"
*Of course they are. Those things are worse than scrap paper—as His Majesty would say, 'too rough even to wipe your ass with,'* Duoluo sneered maliciously in his mind.
Aloud, however, Duoluo lowered his head and spoke in as gentle a tone as he could muster: "Of course not. His Majesty Cassius has always taught us to treat our allies in accordance with the principles of liberty, equality, and mutual benefit. Your Kingdom of Seleucia is a vital component of this coalition and a mainstay of this war. How could we ever leave you ignored?"
The false smile creeping across the dragonblood hobgoblin's hideous visage sent an icy chill down everyone's spines, prickling their scalps—it was somehow far more terrifying than his gloomy glare.
The gaunt scholar felt his knees buckle and nearly tumbled to the ground. Though caught by those behind him, he remained thoroughly shaken, looking as if he had seen a ghost.
"Y-You... don't think you can intimidate us!" the man stammered feebly.
*Pathetic human!*
Duoluo cursed silently, reining in the urge to stomp the man flat. "Gentlemen, let us head into the Council Hall to discuss this thoroughly. There is no need to waste more time out here."
"Very well."
Adrian nodded slightly. In his view, compelling the Empire to make even a minor concession counted as progress.
Though he stood in awe of the terrifying might of the Empire and its emperor, he refused to become a complete puppet, longing for the Seleucian people to retain some degree of autonomy.
Under the escort of the imperial troops, the two sides entered the Council Hall one after another. Converted from the former governor's manor of Shalin City, the hall was remarkably spacious, capable of accommodating several hundred attendees at once.
Seleucian and imperial officers sat lined on either side, while Duoluo, as supreme commander of the coalition, sat at the head of the chamber. With fingers interlaced and a solemn countenance, he projected an immense presence.
After some discussion, a Seleucian viscount hailing from the Taliro region—Khalid Quick—stood up and spoke in a deep voice: "Lord Duoluo, I do not believe it is necessary for the Empire to administer our lands on our behalf. Seleucia belongs to Seleucians. We have our own responsibilities and are fully capable of handling our own governance; there is no need for the Empire to expend further resources on this."
A half-dragon officer on the imperial side let out a cold laugh. "Responsibilities? Greed and ambition, more like! You old Fadlan nobles truly are cut from the same cloth!"
The speaker was none other than George.
He was now an imperial count and an army major general. Having risen all the way from the ranks of ordinary soldiers to his present station, he was regarded as an inspirational idol by countless troops—already a renowned figure in the military.
Khalid froze for a moment, but just as he was about to retort, George cut him off again: "This is still wartime. The Red Dragon Sect in the south is watching like a hawk, ready at any moment to seize back control of the north. If we left governance to you, would you have the ability to conduct a comprehensive sweep of the Cult of the Dragon's spies? Would you have the ability to coordinate forces across the realm to organize a defense?"
"We..."
Khalid choked on his words, at a loss for a counterargument.
George sneered mercilessly, "If not, then shut your mouth! It was the Empire that helped you reclaim this land, allowing a bunch of displaced wretches like you to return to your homeland. Yet before the war is even over, you're already eager to carve up the spoils—it's utterly laughable! Let me tell you, even without you old nobles, the Empire could still win this war! And we'd win it far more cleanly and decisively! It's only out of deference to His Majesty that we—"
"Enough."
Duoluo rapped the table, interjecting with a stern expression. "George, how could you disparage our Seleucian allies like that? They are an indispensable force within our coalition!"
The two imperial officers played good cop and bad cop, leaving the Seleucian nobles red-faced and choked with indignation, yet unable to utter a word in response.
After a prolonged silence, another Seleucian noble rose and spoke: "Lord Duoluo, we have another demand—the execution of the evil dragons of the Cult of the Dragon, to avenge our fallen compatriots!"
"Yes! During the cult's reign, those foul dragons brutally slaughtered countless Seleucians! This blood debt cannot simply be wiped away!"
"And on what grounds should the coalition trust them? Blue dragons are thugs who revere Tiamat! They could launch a sneak attack against us at any moment and disrupt the entire war!"
The Seleucian nobles inside the hall grew impassioned once more, shouting in outrage as though they had finally found an outlet for their fury.
"They are our enemies, plain and simple!"
"We should strip their scales and flay their hides for armor, sever their heads, and hang them in the plaza to proclaim our victory over the Cult of the Dragon!"
"What right do these brutal beasts have to join the coalition? What contribution have they ever made to our cause?"
Just then, a crisp female voice came from outside the Council Hall doors, dripping with cold detachment and hostility.
"Hmph. And what contribution have *you* ever made to the coalition?"
Everyone turned toward the sound, their expressions shifting drastically. A young woman stepped into the hall wearing a sumptuous, heavy gown. Faint draconic scales were visible along her cheeks, and her pupils were deep-blue vertical slits like a serpent's.
It was none other than the young blue dragon in human form who had brokered the Faria clan's surrender—Christina Faria.
Khalid surged to his feet, eyes blazing with fury. Drawing the silver sword at his waist, he pointed it straight at her and roared, "Filthy beast, spawn of Tiamat! How dare you show your face here in broad daylight! We Seleucians will never forget the suffering you brought upon us! One day, I will make you pay for your blood debts in kind!"
As a noble of the Taliro region, Khalid harbored a bone-deep hatred for the Faria clan. During the Blue Dragon Sect's rule, an adult blue dragon had struck his father with lightning, reducing him to charred ash.
Now, seeing a blue dragon from that very clan standing before him, his hatred flared with incandescent rage.
Chapter 832