Chapter 254: The Bestowal (Part One)
Kingdom of Ashen, Northwind Keep.
In the distance, towering chimneys belched thick plumes of smoke, casting a faint haze over the sky. Yet the citizens had long grown accustomed to it. The meticulously paved roads teemed with life—carriages clattered past, merchants bustled, workers hurried to their factories, and scribes carried bundles of scrolls into the Royal Palace.
In the relentless pace of Northwind Keep, everyone had their place, their purpose.
But today was different.
A hush fell across the streets as people paused, drawn by whispers and rising excitement.
“Big event! Big event!”
“The Award Ceremony is about to begin!”
“King Kai Xiusu himself will arrive at Central Plaza to perform the Bestowal! All Humans and Followers are welcome!”
A newsboy sprinted down the avenue, waving his paper with frantic energy. He was shouting at the top of his lungs—because after this run, he’d earn a well-deserved reward of three Silver Coins from the Official.
Along the roadside, Tiefling Guards peeled off the old, weathered bounty posters and replaced them with fresh, crisp flyers, posting the crucial announcement for all to see.
Citizens gathered around the bulletin board, murmuring in anticipation.
“The Award Ceremony?”
“Pfft. Probably just another spectacle for the Followers. What does it matter to us weak Humans?”
“I’d love to see it.”
“Yeah, I’ve lived here for two years, and I’ve never laid eyes on the legendary King.”
“Hah. Waste of time. Better to earn a few more Silver Coins.”
“At least we can crowd around and watch. Maybe His Majesty’ll feel generous—some gold coins slipping through his claws, just for luck. Rumor has it he’s got millions of gold coins stashed away.”
Within moments, Central Plaza erupted into chaos.
After years of growth and population influx, Northwind Keep now housed sixty thousand permanent residents. Today, nearly a third of them had gathered here—over twenty thousand people packed tightly into the square, turning the once-spacious plaza into a suffocating mass of bodies.
Merchants, laborers, soldiers, elves, ogres, Tieflings—every race and profession stood shoulder to shoulder, a vibrant, chaotic mosaic of hope and curiosity, all awaiting this rare and historic spectacle.
Tiefling Guards stood in perfect formation, long spears locked in a rigid line, forming a vast, unbroken ring around the center of the plaza.
Where once the stone statue of Duke Norman, the heroic ancestor of the Lakanman Family, had stood, now only ruins remained. After the Kingdom’s conquest, the old monument had been shattered to pieces and replaced by the imposing, awe-inspiring statue of the Red Dragon.
Now, even that statue had been removed and transported to the front of the Municipal Hall. In its place rose a Grand Altar adorned with intricate Dragon Wing engravings, flanked by dozens of massive stone pillars.
The front rows were reserved for the Dragon Vein Kin—Ogres, Great Goblins, and other powerful beings. High-ranking figures like Lanpu were granted special seats, lounging comfortably as spectators. Most Humans, however, were pushed back, blocked from the front by the disciplined ranks of the Guard.
“Move! Get out of my way!”
“Damn it, you want a fight?”
“When’s the Ritual starting?”
“This place is suffocating!”
With so many people crammed into the space, shoving and bickering were inevitable. Complaints rose like waves, and even the rigorously trained Tiefling Watch struggled to maintain order.
Then—suddenly—a gasp rippled through the crowd.
“Look up there!”
Everyone snapped their heads skyward.
In the horizon, a monstrous Wyvern surged forward like a stormcloud, darkening the sky and nearly blotting out the sun. At its flanks, Chimera formations swept through the air, flanking the procession like ceremonial guards.
The Red Dragon—nearly thirty meters long—glided through the sky, its massive wings slowly beating the air. Each sweep sent a scorching gale sweeping across the city, even at a distance of several thousand meters. The very air in Northwind Keep grew thick and restless.
A White Dragon followed closely behind, its pure, luminous form trailing like a loyal servant, its vivid color a stark contrast to the fiery hues of the Red Dragon.
As the grand procession descended, the roaring crowd fell silent.
Over twenty thousand souls stood frozen, breath held, as the shadow of the dragon fleet swept across the land, blanketing the plaza in darkness.
Boom!
Kai Xiusu landed with a thunderous impact atop the altar, sending a shockwave of wind rippling outward.
The Ancestral Wyverns and Chimeras circled down, settling gracefully atop the stone pillars. The White Dragon, Tinia, claimed the pillar closest to the Red Dragon—undisputed, unquestioned.
Roar—!
They all lifted their heads in unison, unleashing a deep, resonant roar that echoed across the city, a primal chant of loyalty and power.
Kai Xiusu said nothing.
He stepped forward, slowly unfolding his vast, armored wings—so wide they seemed to blot out the sun. The Dragon Crystal embedded in his chest pulsed with searing light, radiating an aura of untold strength.
A wave of power surged outward from him—silent, overwhelming, undeniable.
An invisible Aura of Intimidation swept across the plaza. Every mortal being present, without thought or will, instinctively lowered their heads, bowing in reverence.
“King of the Burnt!”
“Lord!”
“Great Red Dragon!”
Dragonline Followers raised their weapons high, roaring in unison, their voices a tidal wave of devotion.
After years of relentless conquest and victory, Kai Xiusu’s reputation had become mythic—more than a ruler, he was a living god to his followers. Even after centuries of deep slumber, their faith burned brighter than ever.
For Humans, the emotions were more complex—awe, yes, but also deep-rooted fear. After all, they had once been conquered, even treated as spoils of war. Though some had found better lives under the Red Dragon’s rule, the shift in status still required time, and trust, and healing.
And for those who lurked in the shadows—those who had once dreamed of rebellion—today’s sight was devastating.
In the rumors, the Red Dragon had been mortally wounded in battle with a dark sorcerer, forced into a deep slumber. Now, seeing him whole, powerful, and utterly dominant… the dream of resistance died in their hearts.
—Like Falor Trelshad, the former Baron, now hidden among the crowd.
“How… how is this possible?”
“It’s only been three years.”
Falor’s voice trembled. His knees buckled.
Once a noble of the Northern lands, he had longed for the past—the old ways, the old power. He had hidden his identity for years, living under a new name in Northwind Keep. He had secretly allied with the South, serving as an informant for the Lute Players’ Alliance.
Back then, Kai Xiusu had merely been an adult Red Dragon—something Falor had believed he could defeat, even conquer.
But now… this creature—nearly thirty meters long, radiating power from a new, evolved form—was beyond comprehension.
It wasn’t just strength. It was presence.
It was fate.
Falor stared at the Red Dragon, wings spread wide against the sky, and whispered, voice broken:
“This… is invincible.”
(End of Chapter)
Chapter end
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