Chapter 147: Northern Regions Situation
After Duke Brad’s death, Ashen Hollow swiftly seized control of the entire Northwind Keep. The Municipal Hall, Armory, and all other key facilities naturally fell into the hands of the Dragon’s Claws. The Shadow-Cursed Lakanman Castle was sealed off by military forces, transformed into a forbidden zone. Every City Gate of Northwind Keep was guarded by goblin soldiers wielding firelocks, and the city was placed under total lockdown. No one dared to flee—around the city, patrols composed of dragon-vein gnomes and goblinoids prowled relentlessly, eager to tear apart any who tried to escape.
A suffocating atmosphere hung over Northwind Keep.
The city’s over thirty thousand residents all lived in dread, each haunted by uncertainty about their fate.
And as news of Northwind Keep’s fall spread, so too did the announcement of the Duchy of Lakanman’s collapse reach every corner of Anzeta.
For most nobles across the Northern Regions, the fall of Lakanman had been expected. But the speed of its collapse—so swift, so merciless—had taken them completely by surprise.
"Purgatory Cataclysm" Kai Xiusu, leading his legion of Evil Servants, had demonstrated terrifying war prowess. In less than a month, he had overrun the vast, centuries-old Duchy of Lakanman, extinguishing a nation that had endured for four centuries. The flame of history had been snuffed out.
Instantly, panic gripped the Northern Union Kingdom. Fear echoed through every town and keep.
But then, Wyverns appeared across Anzeta, dropping proclamations that fell like snowflakes.
This was an official declaration—one that would reshape the region’s fate:
> "Duke Brad Lakanman, leader of the Duchy of Lakanman, struck a Pact with an Evil Entity, transforming himself into a vampire. Under his rule for two centuries, he committed mass slaughter, enslaved the local populace, and committed atrocities so heinous they stain the memory of history. His blood is stained with countless lives.
>
> Furthermore, Brad Lakanman repeatedly invaded the territory of Ashen Hollow, even dispatching armies to threaten the safety of the region, shattering the peace and order of the Anzeta Great Wasteland.
>
> Thus, the Great Red Dragon, the King of Scorching Ashes, Kai Xiusu Claudew Noirikexius, upheld justice and righteousness. He executed Brad Lakanman in retribution for the suffering of the innocent. In doing so, he claimed the corrupt, decaying Duchy of Lakanman under his wise and just leadership.
>
> This marks the formal birth of the glorious Kingdom of Ashen."
But the declaration was followed by a cascade of shocking, far-reaching conditions.
> "The Duchy of Notte aided and abetted the aggression of Lakanman, assisting in the attack on Storm Ridge and violating the sovereignty of the Kingdom of Ashen. We hold the Nott Family responsible for their reckless actions. They lack the capacity to govern their people and lands—thus, they must come under the supervision and administration of the Kingdom."
>
> "The Duchy of Bosk was deceived by Duke Brad and joined the so-called Allied Forces, causing immense damage to the Kingdom. As such, they are required to pay a reparations of twenty-five thousand gold coins."
>
> "The Duchy of Carter spread despicable lies. Their fabricated song, 'The Song of Ashen Embers,' has severely poisoned public opinion against the Kingdom."
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> "The Duchy of Phano colluded with the Lakanman family, providing financial support, thereby indirectly harming the Kingdom."
The nobles of the Northern Regions were stunned into silence—then erupted in outrage.
This greedy, evil dragon dared to extort the entire Northern Union Kingdom?
He was even more ruthless than the Red Dragons who merely burned cities to the ground!
Once a forgotten figure, a mere tale sung by minstrels—the "Flameflare Dragon" Kai Xiusu—had risen in just a few short years to become a colossus before their eyes. Now, the mere sweep of his wings could shake the foundations of the Northern Regions.
Even the legendary Icewing of a hundred years past had only destroyed a single city, never seized a duchy, let alone issued such brazen demands across the entire union.
Dragon-led dominion over the earth—once a myth from the First Age, when dragons clashed with giants—now stood before them, real and undeniable.
For the first time in centuries, perhaps even since the founding of the Northern Union Kingdom, Anzeta’s Great Wasteland had never witnessed such arrogance from a dragon.
In the grand Lion Parliament Hall of Stravburg—the capital of the Union, and the heart of the Bosk Duchy—hundreds of Northern nobles gathered for the first time in decades, united by fear and fury. It was the first such assembly since the collapse of the "Lionheart Alliance" thirty years prior.
"This is an insult!"
"This dragon has gone too far!"
Leo Bosk, Duke, slammed the proclamation onto the long table with a thunderous crack.
His towering frame trembled with rage, his lion-like beard quivering with fury. His voice roared like thunder, sending shockwaves through the chamber—so loud that even the attendants flinched in fear.
"We of the Bosk Duchy will never accept such humiliating terms!"
"He thinks he’s someone? A fire-breathing lizard? The Scandians have slaughtered dozens of such overconfident reptiles to carve our place in Anzeta!"
Nearby, Duke Oliver Norton of the Norton Duchy stood, slamming his fist on the table.
"Agreed! We must reclaim the Duchy of Lakanman! We must kill this insolent Red Dragon!"
"If we do not, the people will never forgive us!"
Oliver’s teeth clenched. He despised Kai Xiusu with every fiber of his being.
The Empire of Ashen’s edicts had so far only demanded gold or passage rights from other nations. But to Norton, the demand was far worse—“international trusteeship.” The excuse?
"Duke Oliver is incapable of governing his own duchy. Only the more civilized, orderly Empire of Ashen can provide the necessary assistance."
It was absurd. A farce. A naked insult.
A monster-led empire daring to lecture him on governance?
The proclamation had kept Oliver awake for days. In a fit of rage, he had dismissed all envoys sent to Ashen Hollow.
"But… that Red Dragon can cast an Eighth-Level Spell," a hoarse, weary voice murmured.
"Gray Hawk" Slaud had joined the meeting—though his gaze was dull, hollow with exhaustion and sorrow. The very soul of the man burned with hatred for the Red Dragon.
His lord, his homeland—both erased. Now he wandered, a refugee, barely tolerated by Duke Leo’s grace.
"Perhaps we could seek aid from outside," someone suggested.
"Indeed. Rumor says a 'Dawnblade' from the south slew a Red Dragon six years ago. Though… we don’t know if it’s true."
At the mention, Duke Leo’s fury softened slightly. He turned to the Count Tapley.
"Baron Tapley, wasn’t that Dawnblade once a guest in your lands? Can you still reach her?"
Tapley shook his head slowly.
"She left five years ago—hurriedly. No message. No trace."
Duke Leo’s voice grew grave.
"Then perhaps we must look south… to the Southern Sacred Empire of Fadran."
"Unlikely," replied Baron Trelsh, who had long served as envoy to the south.
"Recent months have seen unprecedented uprisings across multiple provinces of Fadran. King Aragon has led the Solar Legion in campaign after campaign. They have no time for us."
Leo’s fury flared again.
"So what? Do we just sit here and surrender to that Red Dragon? Let him parade through our lands like a conqueror?"
Silence.
Only the echo of his roar remained in the vast hall.
Then, a voice—dry, cracked, and unexpectedly calm—spoke from the shadows.
It was "Gray Hawk" Slaud.
"Lord Duke… I know of someone who might stand against that Red Dragon. And who would be willing to help."
(End of Chapter)
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