Chapter 505: The Assembly
Imperial Council Building, Senate.
This exclusive chamber occupied the very pinnacle of the towering structure, equipped with a unique One-Way Magical Mirror that allowed a panoramic view of the entire city of Isdalia—its every alley, square, and shadowed corner under constant surveillance.
Compared to the vast Council Chamber capable of holding tens of thousands, the Senate was modest in size: a single circular table, a few dozen seats. Yet only the Empire’s true inner circle—those whose decisions shaped the fate of the realm—were permitted within these walls. Here, national policies were forged, and the future of the Ashen Empire was truly decided.
At this moment, the front row was occupied by three dukes—Lanpu, Dolo, and Meizhuolashi—pillars of the Empire whose influence was unquestionable.
Beyond them stood other towering figures: Jinya, Chieftain of the Goblinoid tribes; Gielermo, head of the Technology Department; Alje, Regiment Commander of the Red Scales Garrison; Anthony, the Chief Knight of the Oath of the Dragon Sanctuary; and Misha, the Dragon Oath Mage of the Tower of Conflagration.
Each of those present held at least the rank of Marquis—powerful men and women who commanded influence across the Empire’s vast domains.
“Why has this Senate meeting been called so suddenly?”
“Indeed, it should’ve been three days from now.”
“Is something serious happening?”
“Could it be…?”
Thud. Thud.
Lanpu tapped the edge of the table with his wand, the sound heavy and deliberate. All eyes snapped to him.
“Gentlemen—and ladies,” he began, clearing his throat, “for nearly a year, the Empire has grown cautious, even stagnant. I know many of you have felt the frustration. Now… it is time for change.”
His Majesty has awakened from the Deep Sleep. And it is for this reason I have summoned you here, urgently.”
Silence fell like a veil.
Every gaze turned toward the far end of the round table—the empty, opulent throne, a symbol of imperial authority.
Faces—diverse in origin, expression, and race—etched with anticipation, tension, and barely suppressed excitement.
Because Lanpu had just delivered the news: His Majesty had awakened. And he was coming. Now.
Swish—
The space before the throne shimmered, warped, then rippled open.
Kai Xiusu stepped forth—clad in deep crimson imperial robes, crowned with a golden circlet. Behind him, Olivia carried the Pact documents, her steps quick and precise.
“His Majesty!”
The entire chamber rose in unison, bowing low. Right fists pressed to hearts, a formal gesture of loyalty.
Olivia, however, stepped aside with practiced grace, darting back to her seat in the second row.
Kai Xiusu settled onto the throne with natural ease, one hand gesturing downward. “Rise, all of you. Be seated.”
Though he now wore a human form, he still felt awkward—restrained. Had the chamber been larger, he would have gladly shifted into his true Red Dragon form.
He rested a hand on his chin, eyes calm.
“Long time no see,” he said, voice quiet. “I’m certain you all know more about the Empire’s recent troubles than I do. For instance…”
He paused—deliberately.
“…the Deep Abyss Demons.”
His gaze swept across the room, inviting response. Speak freely.
Slam!
Dolo rose instantly, his face flushed, smoke curling from his nostrils. “Those filth from the Abyss have gone too far!”
He turned sharply toward Lanpu, pointing at the scar on the minister’s ear. “Look at this wound, Your Majesty! They dared to attack the Prime Minister in broad daylight! This is not just an assault—it is an open insult to the Empire’s dignity!”
His voice thundered. “And yet, we have done nothing! No retaliation! No justice! What does the people say? They say we are weak!”
“Yes! The Demons are everywhere!”
“They’ve attacked my city too—no warning, no mercy!”
“They’re unstoppable!”
The chamber erupted in anger. Many stood, fists clenched, voicing outrage at the Demons’ relentless raids.
But Lanpu remained seated, utterly calm—unbothered by the accusation.
Dolo’s “concern” for Lanpu’s injury was merely a tactic—a calculated move to portray the Prime Minister as weak, to rally support against his cautious policies.
Misha, her brow furrowed, stood slowly. “The Demons are rampant. I myself slew the Miyu Demon in Isdalia. But launching a full-scale counterattack into the Abyss? That’s folly.”
She took a breath. “I’ve dealt with Hell Devils in the Elemental Plane of Fire. I know what lies beyond the Veil. The Bottomless Abyss isn’t one realm—it’s six hundred and sixty-six layers deep. A chasm of filth, blood, and endless suffering. The Demons are legion, each under the command of a different Abyssal Lord.”
She locked eyes with the room. “Unless we conquer Pazunia, any assault on the Abyss is a waste of lives and resources. It’s meaningless.”
Dolo and the military faction elders exchanged dark glances—displeased. But the scholars, those versed in multiversal lore, nodded in agreement.
They knew the truth: “Retaliate against the Abyss” was a slogan, not a strategy.
Lanpu gave a subtle, approving nod. With a flick of his wand, he tapped the floor.
“Our true enemy is not the Abyss as a whole—but the Revenant Demon, Jezarslak. A Lord from an unknown realm, lost to time ten thousand years ago.”
He paused, voice low. “Now, the enemy strikes from the shadows. We are exposed. Without intelligence, any action would be reckless. But…”
A crooked grin spread across the Ogre Magus’s face.
“Now that His Majesty has awakened, we are no longer bound by caution. We can act—fully, decisively. His Majesty’s visionary leadership has already foreseen the invasion through divination. And I, for my part, have prepared long in secret.”
Dolo’s expression darkened further.
Lanpu turned to the throne, his gaze fixed on the Emperor with quiet intensity.
Snap.
Kai Xiusu did not speak. Instead, he snapped his fingers.
A massive magical image materialized in midair—a sweeping vista of mountain ranges, peaks piercing the sky, the tallest crowned with a thousand-meter snow-capped summit.
“That’s Mount Tiel!”
“I’ve been there.”
“It’s the spine of the North.”
Then—tear.
A monstrous black claw ripped through the sky, splitting the heavens wide. A rift hundreds of meters across split open, spewing forth a tide of grotesque, writhing Demons. Their twisted forms choked the light, casting jagged shadows across the land.
Roar—
The vision cut abruptly.
Kai Xiusu’s voice, calm and unshaken, echoed through the chamber.
“According to prophecy, the Deep Abyss Demons will launch a full-scale invasion of Anzeta. And it will begin… one month from now.”
He reached out, snatched the Dragonhead Scepter draped over the throne, and rose.
Holding the scepter before him, he stood tall.
Instantly, every figure in the room rose with him.
Their eyes—filled with expectation, tension, or even hope—locked onto the Emperor.
There were Half-Dragons touched by ancient bloodlines, Ogre Magi, Giant Ogre warriors, Holy Knights sworn to the Dragon Oath, and even a Goblinoid warrior whose form stood like a living Red Dragon.
Each was among the Empire’s elite—Dragon Blood in their veins, nearly as potent as true Dragon heirs. Every one of them possessed a Challenge Rating of ten or higher.
Kai Xiusu scanned the room, his gaze steady, assessing.
Then, a slow, knowing smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
“Gentlemen… Ladies…”
He spoke, low and firm.
“The new war… has begun.”
Under Lanpu’s lead, the elders around the round table raised their right fists to their hearts once more, their voices rising as one:
“For the Empire.”
(End of Chapter)
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