Chapter 378: Coronation (IV)
"Bring it to the top of the Altar!"
"Hey-hey! Heave-ho! Heave-ho!"
With heavy, grunting breaths, eight massive Ogres strained under the weight of a colossal, iron-bound metal crate, hauling it out from the shadowed end of the road. Step by step, they ascended the grand staircase, reaching the summit of the Altar. Working together, they heaved open the box—then dropped to their knees in reverence.
A radiant golden light spilled forth from within. The onlookers gasped in awe.
There, resting in solemn stillness, lay the crown—crafted entirely of Mithril, its surface adorned with dazzling, multicolored Gemstones that shimmered like captured starlight under the Sun’s blaze.
It was the Supreme True Dragon Crown.
A sudden, unspoken question stirred in every mind: According to tradition, the Emperor must be crowned by another. Even the "Sun King" Aragorn I of the Holy Faedran Empire was anointed by the High Priest of the Amanatara Church.
So who here had the right to crown this "Emperor of the Ashen Flame," Kai Xiusu?
Then, as if summoned by memory, a name surfaced—familiar, yet too sacred to speak aloud.
A vast shadow fell across Isdalia. An overwhelming Aura of Intimidation pressed down upon all, triggering instinctive fear in every heart.
"By the gods…"
"That’s…"
They looked up, eyes straining toward the heavens—only to behold a nightmare made real: the impossible fusion of Body and Spirit, a monstrous entity that seemed to devour the very sky.
A Dragon’s form—colossal, terrible—its wings like storm-laden clouds, its body writhing with five sinuous necks and five heads. Each head bore vertical pupils, unblinking, fixed upon Kai Xiusu.
This was merely a Projection—yet it was enough to make every soul tremble.
"It’s Him!"
"Tiamat."
A voice cracked through the silence, trembling with dread.
The crowd erupted. No one had expected the Mother of Monsters Tiamat to descend so personally—let alone in such a display of power.
"Dragon Queen! She’s here in person!" Christina stared upward, her voice alight with exhilaration.
"Was it really going to happen?" Kai Xiusu lifted his head without hesitation, meeting the gaze of the five-eyed horror.
He had expected this.
Tiamat’s nature was clear: once he was crowned, she would appear—offering not grace, but a claim. A divine favor that was, in truth, a chain. To be anointed by her was to bind himself irrevocably to the Five-colored Dragon’s War Chariot.
To accept her coronation would be to declare war—openly and irrevocably—on the Metal Dragon and all that stood against the Five-colored Dragon.
So Kai Xiusu bowed slightly, wings folded tightly, a gesture of respect—yet not submission.
"Good day, Dragon Queen."
"You have done well, Kai Xiusu."
Five heads split into grins—wide, jagged, terrifying.
"Good enough… to earn my personal congratulations."
"If there were more like you, how could the Five-colored Dragon not rise again? How could Dragon’s Rule not return to this world?"
"You flatter me," Kai Xiusu replied, calm and measured.
Inside, he marveled at how effortlessly Tiamat had redefined his realm—not as his own, but as a shared inheritance of the Five-colored Dragon.
So he responded with careful grace: "My kingdom still pales in comparison to your eternal glory."
He had just drawn a line—clear and firm—between his Empire and hers.
Above, the Phantom Image of Tiamat showed no emotion, only a subtle narrowing of her eyes.
"Kai Xiusu… you require a coronation worthy of the occasion. A ceremony so solemn, so sacred… that it demands the hand of a God."
A tempting offer—yet Kai Xiusu did not answer immediately. He merely dipped his head, lost in thought.
He wasn’t waiting for permission.
He was waiting for someone else.
A sudden, icy gust of Northern Wind sliced through the air.
Tiamat’s expression darkened.
And then—on the horizon, a shimmering light, like the sky in midsummer, flared across the heavens. A long, serpentine silhouette emerged—white-gold, majestic, the Phantom Image of King Bahamut.
"Is that…?"
"King Bahamut?"
The Silver Dragon Olivia and Klu Zerai gasped in unison, their hearts racing with hope. Olivia, in particular, could already imagine Kai Xiusu renouncing his past, embracing righteousness, and kneeling before the White-Gold Dragon King.
The Blue Dragons’ faces twisted in a mix of shock and awe.
The crowd stood frozen—numb. They had never dreamed the Five-Colored Dragon Queen and the White-Gold Dragon King would appear together—on the same sacred stage.
But those who had journeyed from across Feanso felt the weight of it. The significance.
"Good day, King Bahamut," Kai Xiusu said, voice steady.
Even the Deviant Dragons respected Bahamut’s wisdom and strength—and Kai Xiusu was no exception.
Tiamat roared, thunder echoing through the sky:
"Bahamut! Your Divine Chosen has fallen to my offspring! How dare you appear here!"
Bahamut’s voice remained calm, unwavering:
"I rejoice in any Dragon with potential—so long as they are willing to turn from darkness."
"You speak nonsense!"
Two titanic waves of Divine Power clashed in the air, tearing through the sky. Clouds writhed. Thunder split the heavens.
Yet Kai Xiusu stood unmoved.
Months ago, when he had purged the lingering trace of Bahamut’s presence from that Gemstone, he had sent a message—a silent invitation.
And now, the answer had come.
Perhaps Bahamut did not truly wish to claim Kai Xiusu. Perhaps he only sought to embarrass Tiamat.
But it was enough.
The oldest, most powerful Dragons could sense the true nature of the Dragon Gods. Ancient beings rarely obeyed them blindly.
Kai Xiusu would not be a pawn—neither for Tiamat, nor for any god.
He wanted to dance between the factions—manipulate the balance, exploit the rivalries. To seize the greatest advantage for his own Empire.
But his past victories over the Silver Dragons, combined with Tiamat’s careful cultivation of belief, had painted him as her chosen—perhaps even her heir.
He could not allow that.
When he was weak, he had worn Tiamat’s name like armor.
Now, with strength at his back, that very title was a liability—drawing enemies, inviting suspicion.
And Tiamat? A miserly deity, who gave nothing freely. She demanded service, not grace.
The sky churned. Lightning flashed. The mere presence of two Deity Projections was enough to crush mortal spirits.
The Blue and Silver Dragons tensed, muscles taut, ready to fight at a moment’s notice.
Yet in the midst of this charged chaos, Kai Xiusu stepped forward.
He broke the silence.
"To be crowned in the very presence of two such divine beings…"
He paused—let the weight of the moment settle.
Then, with deliberate stride, the Red Dragon advanced toward the metal box. Without hesitation, he reached out with one claw—and swiftly placed the Supreme True Dragon Crown upon his head.
"Truly, this is my greatest honor."
His voice was calm.
The spectacle had reached its peak. The reputation of the Empire of Ashen would now soar beyond mortal limits.
In truth, Kai Xiusu had already made his decision—long before this moment.
As Emperor of the Empire of Ashen, the sovereign of a new age, he would not need a coronation by any hand.
Not even a God’s.
(End of Chapter)
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