Chapter 306: Proclamation
The outskirts of Northwind Keep.
The army of the Kingdom of Ashen had seized nearly the entire wasteland.
Among them, many bore the marks of transformation—red scales adorning their skin, sharp claws tearing at the air, spine-like protrusions jutting from their backs like dragon bones. Some even had golden vertical pupils in their eyes, glowing with unnatural intensity.
Great Goblins, Tieflings, and Humans marched in formation, each carrying brand-new semi-automatic rifles, clad in finely forged chainmail. These were the kingdom’s elite infantry—every soldier sharp-eyed, radiating lethal intent.
Ogre artillery units dragged massive heavy cannons, their barrels gleaming black with metallic sheen, each stretching nearly six meters in length, with a muzzle diameter of one meter—like the gaping maw of a devouring beast. And there were over a hundred such cannons scattered throughout the army.
Dragon-Bound Holy Knights stood armored in thick plate armor, their left hands gripping great shields inscribed with the Inferno Emblem, their right hands clutching long spears or massive greatswords. Flames flickered around them, crackling and dancing in their aura, making their armor blaze like molten metal. Just their presence raised the temperature of the air, searing the ground beneath them. Even their closest followers dared not draw near the phalanx.
Goblinoid and Goblin skirmishers formed the ragged flanks—ill-equipped, wearing tattered rags scavenged from abandoned battlefields, wielding outdated bird rifles or smoothbore muskets. Their small, yellow eyes shone with ecstatic fervor. Thousands upon thousands of them surged forward like a chaotic, multicolored tide.
Beyond the ridge, on distant hills, mountain-sized beasts rose and fell in waves—Tundra Land Drakes, encased in impossibly heavy armor, breathing in deep, thunderous gasps that exhaled plumes of white steam, resembling living steel fortresses.
In the sky above, Wyverns and Chimeras formed dense, shifting clouds, their tangled wings blotting out half the heavens. Even these beasts were heavily armed—many Two-Headed Dragons bore thin but resilient iron leather armor over vital areas, and their claws hung with clusters of burning bombs and explosives.
Nearly one hundred thousand monsters and humans stood assembled here—beasts, men, and horrors, all united under one banner.
Under normal circumstances, such a chaotic mix of races would have descended into utter chaos, turning the land into a slaughterhouse.
But now, silence reigned. The army stood in perfect formation, barely a sound escaping them. Only the heavy, synchronized breathing of tens of thousands filled the vast wasteland—efforts were made to suppress even that.
They waited.
"Roar——"
A long, echoing roar rang out from the distance.
A colossal red figure emerged from the haze of the wasteland, its shadow stretching across the ground like a curse.
All heads snapped upward. Breath grew sharp, urgent. Eyes blazed with euphoria and fanaticism, as if gazing upon a divine being. The Wyverns lowered their heads, landing in unison, bending their necks to the earth.
—There he stood.
Kai Xiusu.
The King of the Burnt, whose wings could blot out Anzeta itself. The bringer of Purgatory Cataclysm, the harbinger of annihilation.
In the midst of the unassuming Human phalanx, George stared upward, gripping his rifle so tightly his knuckles turned white. His hands trembled.
He had seen the king before—but no matter how many times he witnessed him, the sheer, overwhelming oppression of his presence left him breathless, awestruck, utterly humbled. He yearned, more than anything, to be one of those chosen by the king himself—those rare, fated "great ones" to whom Kai Xiusu would bestow his favor.
Among the swarming masses of two-headed dragons, a pure-white dragon stood out like a snow peak among mountains.
Tinia gazed upward, stretching her neck as far as she could, her pale blue vertical pupils brimming with rapture and devotion.
"Kai Xiusu, my Master..."
"So strong..."
She murmured, lost in reverie. Without hesitation, she swung her claw, sending a nearby Wyvern tumbling off its perch with a single swipe. She claimed the prime position for herself. The offended Two-Headed Dragon let out a pitiful whine—but upon seeing the white dragon, it slunk away, grumbling in defeat.
"Boom!"
The earth trembled. Rock fragments flew. Dust rose in thick clouds.
The colossal Red Dragon, over thirty meters in length, landed with a thunderous crash atop the hill. Every living thing in the wasteland seemed insignificant beneath him—fragile, disposable.
Kai Xiusu, towering over his army, spread his wings like a stormcloud, and spoke—calm, deliberate, like a god declaring fate:
"If they seek war..."
"Then I shall grant them war."
The words had barely left his mouth when the entire wasteland erupted—like a wildfire unleashed, raw fury spilling from every soul.
"For the Kingdom of Ashen!"
"War! Let them pay in blood!"
"For the Great Red Dragon!"
"For King Kai Xiusu!"
"For the grand blueprint of the Dragon Vein Empire!"
Great Goblins raised their rifles. Ogres pounded their chests. Humans roared in unison. Even the Wyverns stretched their necks and unleashed long, spine-chilling roars.
Despite strict orders, some overly ecstatic Goblins fired their rifles into the sky. One clumsy Ogre, overcome by excitement, nearly launched a shell weighing hundreds of kilograms—only saved by his comrades’ quick intervention.
Years of relentless victories. Decades of growing renown. The Red Dragon had ascended in the hearts of his followers to a status that rivaled, even surpassed, that of a divine being.
No speeches were needed. No rallying cries. Just his presence, his simple words—enough to ignite the battle fervor of the entire army to a peak no general could ever achieve.
And Kai Xiusu knew this.
He looked down upon the sea of warriors, their battle intensity raging like a storm, his gaze sweeping across the vast expanse of his domain—expanding now to encompass the Feiansuo Continent, even the entire Alerzage World.
"It is time."
"A decade of planning... now, the Northern Regions will finally fall under my hand."
"But once all this is complete... my true journey has only just begun. Demons. Devils. Gods. Ancient horrors... many threats remain in this world."
A puff of sulfur-scented white smoke escaped Kai Xiusu’s nostrils as he spoke silently in his mind.
The Red Dragon took a single step forward, extending his monstrous claw—then slowly clenched it, as if squeezing the entire Anzeta Great Wasteland into the palm of his hand.
"Crush them."
His voice remained calm—almost casual—as if ordering the world to yield.
Instantly, the wasteland erupted again.
Shouts, roars, and war cries echoed as countless red banners—each emblazoned with vertical pupils and a flame sigil—flapped violently in the sulfur-scented wind.
"For the Kingdom of Ashen!"
"Aaaah!"
"Crush them utterly! Unite Anzeta!"
Within the Iron Dragon Wing Palace, Kai Xiusu idly manipulated a force field spell over his claw, sharpening it with precise, meticulous care. Though such minutiae mattered little in high-level combat, he indulged in it—merely to pass the time.
Suddenly, a message from Lanpu arrived.
Kai Xiusu mentally unsealed the prohibition, and the grotesque face of the messenger reappeared in the magic mirror.
"Master," the voice rasped, "strange guests have arrived at Northwind Keep. They claim to be your allies."
"Oh?"
A faint, amused glint flickered in Kai Xiusu’s pale golden vertical pupils.
"Allies... now that’s a rarity."
"I must admit—I’m curious. Who would wish to ally with a dragon whose name is synonymous with evil?"
He slowly raised his head, the glow in his eyes deepening, as if savoring the intrigue of what was to come.
(End of Chapter)
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