Chapter 161: Reactions from All Sides
“Kingdom of Ashen’s Latest Flyer!
Assassination of the Red Dragon — Righteous Individuals, Complete Annihilation!
Lionheart Knights Ambushed and Destroyed!”
A newsboy cried out on the street, hawking his wares, clutching a stack of flyers he’d scavenged. The Kingdom of Ashen’s flyers appeared to use some advanced technology—paper smooth and delicate, ink sharp and vivid. Residents adored them not just for their content, but for their sheer utility. Even without the news, they were perfect for wrapping, sketching, or even as makeshift paper lanterns.
These street wanderers had quickly spotted the profit in the free flyers and began selling them in bulk. At first, such unofficial promotion of the Kingdom was strictly forbidden by the duchy—offenders were swiftly arrested. But as the number of flyers increased and their value grew, the patrols could only turn a blind eye.
“I’ll take one,” came a soft, elegant voice—though now laced with urgency.
The newsboy looked up. A tall figure in a long robe approached, hood drawn low, obscuring her face. Yet even beneath the shadow, her slender frame and flawless, pale skin were unmistakable. He guessed she was likely a noblewoman or lady—perhaps sneaking out for a secret outing. His face instantly brightened with a servile grin.
“Five copper coins, madam.”
“Fine.”
“Wishing you a pleasant day,” he chirped, handing over the flyer and snatching the coins. A grin tugged at his lips. These sheltered noble girls are so easy to fool.
In a narrow alley cloaked in secrecy, the woman removed her hood—revealing the strikingly beautiful face of “Silver Star” Olivia, the living embodiment of the Silver Dragon.
She scanned the flyer’s text with a serious expression, murmuring aloud:
> “The Court Mage of the Duchy of Lakanman—those despicable scoundrels from the Northern Union Kingdom.”
> “They laid vile traps, seeking to assassinate the great King of the Burnt.”
> “But the Dragon’s Might shall bring their destruction.”
Her brows knitted tighter with each line. Her pale blue-gray eyes flickered with deep concern.
The report spoke of the Red Dragon’s assassination attempt—and its failure—but said nothing of the details. Not a single word about the Gold Dragon Kin.
That meant he was missing. Missing in Armor Classification.
Olivia gazed upward at the sky, whispering softly:
> “Anher… are you still alive?”
She’d once despised this Gold Dragon—his evasiveness, his smug arrogance. But after their last conversation, something had shifted within her. His words on Justice, his solemn Promise—they had carved a deep impression. For the first time, she felt the magnetic Charisma of a being driven by moral conviction and idealism.
Was it the Silver Dragon’s innate kindness? The instinctive concern for kin? Or something more complex, deeper? Whatever it was, she now burned with the need to find him.
> “I hope to see you again at the next Arcane Hermitage.”
> “Anher…”
> “I really don’t want to fulfill that troublesome promise of yours.”
She lowered her eyes, pulling the hood back over her head. With a ripple in space, she vanished into the shadows of the alley.
…
Duke Bosk’s Estate
“Sir, the latest intelligence from the Kingdom of Ashen.”
“Hmm. Dismissed.”
Duke Leo Bosk took the flyer from the servant’s hand, scanning it with careful focus.
Unlike the fierce, lion-like Majesty and wrath he projected to the world, the private Leo Bosk was remarkably calm—a trait evident in his past. Thirty years ago, the man hailed as the “New Lionheart King” had shattered the Allied Forces of the Northern Nobles, forging the legendary “Lionheart Alliance.” He’d unified the surrounding territories, reestablishing the Bosk Duchy’s Overlord Status across the Northern Union Kingdom after more than three centuries of decline. Though he bore the title “King of the Northlands,” he rarely used it.
Now, his face was drawn, his expression grave. The lion-like beard seemed to twist in silent frustration.
“They failed… after all.”
“Regrettable. I shouldn’t have sent the Lionheart Knights to reinforce them.”
He spoke the name slowly, each syllable heavy with irritation:
> “Kai Xiusu Claudew Noirikexius.”
Since the Lionheart Alliance, the Bosk Duchy had flourished—its power growing unchecked. This defeat was the first in years. The mission had never truly aimed to kill the Red Dragon—just to probe his strength. If containment were possible, even better. But instead, the entire Lionheart Knight relief force had been completely annihilated.
Yet, fortune had spared him. He’d sent Fried, the “Black Lion Knight”—a man of doubtful loyalty, someone he’d long wanted to replace.
He turned to Baron Trelsh, who stood nearby.
“Trelsh, has Sacred Fedran responded?”
Baron Trelsh shrugged helplessly. “The scale of this rebellion is unprecedented. The Empire has poured every last strength into suppression. They’ll only spare a northern border garrison. As for the Solar Legion’s ‘Divine Offspring’—not a single one can be recalled.”
Duke Leo’s voice was thick with frustration.
“That’s useless. Only Legendary-level strength can stand against the Red Dragon.”
Trelsh murmured softly: “Sir… aren’t you forgetting something?”
“I know what you’re hinting at,” Leo replied, “The Tower of Eternal Night, the Black Wizard of Dragon Madness, Wagner. Yes?”
He shook his head.
“He’s a madman—utterly beyond reason. I’ve exhausted every effort to bargain with him. No normal human can survive a collaboration with that damned madman.”
Trelsh leaned in, voice low:
“Sir… we don’t need to collaborate. We just need to set them against each other. Let them destroy one another. Then our benefits will be maximized.”
“Hmm…”
Duke Leo stroked his messy beard, deep in thought.
Suddenly—
A sharp, urgent creak of the door shattered the silence.
A Message Delivery Knight burst in, breathless and trembling.
“Sir! It’s terrible—Norton Duchy has been captured!”
“What?!”
“How is that possible?!”
Leo slammed his fist onto the table—so hard the wood cracked. Even the ever-calm duke was stunned. Astonishment flared in his eyes.
The Kingdom of Ashen—a fledgling nation barely established months ago—had, without warning, without notice, seized the Norton Duchy in a single day?
“Are our intelligence agents all incompetent? Should they be sent to the guillotine?”
For the first time in years, Duke Leo’s wrath burned hot and real.
The knight stammered, voice shaking:
“T-they… they moved too fast. From advance to capture—only one day.”
(End of Chapter)
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