Chapter 552: The Audience with the Ancient Silver Dragon
After整理ing the丰硕 rewards from the recent battle, Kai Xiusu lay sprawled atop the Dragonblood Mountain, shrouded in smoke. His massive dragon form rose and fell with each deep breath. Before his fanged, bloody maw, a regiment of silver-white flames burned fiercely, purifying and refining the purple-black flesh, purging it of chaotic darkness.
Ordering Flame—its power capable of reducing entropy and minimizing System Chaos—demanded astronomical energy. Even Kai Xiusu, a being akin to a dragon-shaped reactor, had to push himself to the absolute limit to sustain the blaze, refining the essence into [Pure Ancestral Dragon Blood].
Pfft.
From the Red Dragon’s nostrils and lips, gouts of scorching white smoke erupted. Beneath his scales, the basal vessels pulsed with inner light, his immense, powerful body resembling a furnace that never ceased its relentless combustion.
Eventually, the flames subsided. A single drop of crimson blood hovered in midair—then was swallowed whole by Kai Xiusu.
[Ancestral Dragon Blood Purity +0.0001%]
Compared to the hundreds of meters-long, mountainous corpse of the dragon, this fragment of flesh was but a grain of sand in the ocean. Yet, for Kai Xiusu, whose lifespan stretched across eons, the time spent was negligible. In the near future, the Red Dragon would fully digest the entire corpse, his avatar evolving into a true Ancestral Dragon.
Suddenly, Lanpu’s magical image appeared before the Red Dragon, his ogre face twisted into a servile smile.
"Master, the Mervold Clan’s Silver Dragon still seeks audience. They possess nine adult Silver Dragons and four young ones. The leader is an ancient-tier Silver Dragon—rumored to be Oszedro’s brother. His strength is not to be underestimated. What say you?"
"Troublesome homefolk," Kai Xiusu snorted, "Those Silver Dragons from Melward always stir up their own chaos. But this time… they’ve earned some merit."
He exhaled a hot gust of white smoke, shaking his massive head with clear impatience. Just moments ago, he’d been savoring the exhilaration of bloodline ascension and power growth. To be interrupted now—right at such a peak—was anything but pleasant.
Lanpu sensed the Emperor’s irritation and quickly added, "Shall I bring them before you, Master?"
"No, Lanpu. Don’t forget—Dragonblood Mountain is a Forbidden Zone."
Kai Xiusu shifted his heavy frame with powerful limbs, stretching his back and swaying his long, thick tail.
"If they so desperately wish to see me… then I shall go to them."
Swish—
The Red Dragon lifted a claw, effortlessly tearing open the space before him, creating a rift wreathed in fire. Without hesitation, he lowered his head and plunged through.
At the edge of the Anstica Mountains, Silver Dragons circled anxiously, wings beating the air, on high alert. Pablicheko, crouched on all fours, tensed and stared toward the ogre.
"Lanpu, Your Grace… has His Majesty consented?"
Pablicheko had come not only to resist the Deep Abyss Demons but also to fulfill his elder brother’s mission—to uncover the future direction of the Empire.
According to Silver Dragon intelligence, the Empire of Ashen was expanding with astonishing speed. The presence of destructive weapons and war machines alone revealed the nation’s fierce ambition. They would never be content with merely ruling the remote Anzeta Great Wasteland.
But the ogre mage whispered quickly, "His Majesty has granted your audience. However… he is arriving shortly."
Pablicheko froze, startled. "You mean—?"
Swish—
A massive, razor-sharp dragon claw shot from thin air, gripping the edges of the spatial rift and tearing it open with brute force.
Flames surged around the rift. Ember sparks danced through the air. A hurricane of heat roared forth, followed by a crushing wave of Aura of Intimidation, enveloping the surrounding area for miles.
Roar!
The Silver Dragons mid-flight were slammed down as if struck by an invisible hand, crashing hard onto the ground. Even the most powerful young and adult Silver Dragons—formidable by any standard—lay whimpering, paralyzed, unable to move.
"This… is…"
Even the Ancient Silver Dragon felt the overwhelming pressure, a force emanating from the depths of his bloodline. For the first time in millennia, he lowered his dignified silver head.
As the gale subsided and the aura weakened, Pablicheko slowly raised his head, staring up at the towering silhouette—shaken to his core.
"By Bahamut…"
The difference between distant observation and direct confrontation was immense. Only now, standing before this colossal Red Dragon, could Pablicheko truly grasp the terror of his presence, the sheer Power radiating from him.
Nearly fifty meters long—over twice Pablicheko’s size—his body was broader, more muscular than any ordinary Red Dragon. Thick, knotted muscles bulged beneath crimson scales, resembling iron balls. His limbs were like stone pillars. Yet, despite his immense strength, his form remained perfectly proportioned, flawless in design.
Standing before the Emperor of the Ashen Flame, even an Ancient Silver Dragon felt insignificant—like a lamb before a lion.
"Is this how you greet my arrival?" Kai Xiusu’s deep voice echoed across the wasteland. "I heard you all wanted to see me."
Pablicheko shivered, quickly responding, "Of course not!"
The Ancient Silver Dragon lowered his head, pressing his gleaming wings tightly against his body, then slightly bent his forelimbs.
He bowed formally. "Good morning, His Majesty, Emperor of the Ashen Flame. Pablicheko paused, then smiled gently. "I witnessed your deeds firsthand. I must say—it was a magnificent battle. As representative of the Mervold Clan, I extend our congratulations. May your Empire continue to triumph over the Abyssal Invasion. And may your glory be eternal."
"You’re the brother of that old troublemaker, Pablicheko? Hmph. What a mouthful of a name."
Kai Xiusu regarded the Ancient Silver Dragon with a critical eye. His brow, adorned with scale horns, twitched. Indeed, this was Oszedro’s brother. By dragon lineage, they were nearly identical—both possessed sharp, silver faces like those carved by a blade. Yet this one was smaller, about twenty-four meters long, lacking the battle-worn gear or runes etched across his body.
Just an ordinary Silver Dragon.
That was Kai Xiusu’s assessment.
"Yes, Your Majesty."
Pablicheko’s lips twitched slightly, but he answered truthfully. He dared not provoke the Emperor over trivialities.
Kai Xiusu waved a claw dismissively. "Speak. I don’t have time for idle chatter."
Pablicheko hesitated, then carefully said, "King Kai Xiusu… the Mervold Clan wishes to know your stance on the situation in the Feiansuo Continent. And whether the Empire of Ashen will enter this conflict."
Kai Xiusu narrowed his eyes, pale golden gaze locking onto the Ancient Silver Dragon. His voice was ice.
"Is this an internal matter of the Empire? What business is it of yours, Melward?"
Pablicheko shook his head swiftly. "We mean no offense. But your position matters deeply to us—it shapes the fate of the entire Feanso Continent."
The Silver Dragon turned, gazing out across the endless expanse of the wasteland, as if lost in the grandeur of Anzeta.
Then, almost casually, he sighed, "Your Majesty… you already rule such a vast territory. Millions of loyal subjects sustain you. You’ve gathered the wealth of the world. If I were you, I’d be content. Why seek to disrupt the order of the South?"
Kai Xiusu bared his fangs in a grotesque grin.
Hmph.
He saw through the subtext. The ancient dragon was saying: You already have enough. Why hunger for more?
Kai Xiusu extended his claw, and a fiery magical image formed above it—burning brightly.
Cities in ruins. Displaced people. Crying mothers. Wailing children. Corpses strewn across the ground. Thick gunsmoke. Rivers of blood.
The scene was unmistakable—the war-torn borderlands of the Thrace Kingdom and Cassander Kingdom, where violence had raged for three years.
With each slaughter, hatred accumulated. The two nations had forgotten they had once been allies. Now, they were enemies to be exterminated.
And enemies were not human.
Civilians died in droves—crushed under cannon fire, cut down by divine descendants, annihilated by arcane legions. Their lives, to the warlords, were worth nothing.
Kai Xiusu spoke coldly, "Is this the order you’ve so diligently upheld? If this is what you call 'order,' then go to Hell—find Asmodeus, Lord of the Nine Hells, and let him be your ruler."
Pablicheko countered, "But your Empire sells weapons…"
Kai Xiusu laughed bitterly. "Even without our rifles and cannons, wouldn’t they still slaughter each other? The Divine Descendant Army was doing just fine on their own, wasn’t it?"
Pablicheko fell silent. But he pressed on. "Your Majesty, this is mortal warfare. They fight over wealth, land, power—no right or wrong. Even we Mervold Clan cannot stop them, nor would we interfere. But the balance between dragons and human, elven, and other humanoid races—that we have maintained for thousands of years. For millennia, dragons have kept to ourselves. Even when Tiamat stirred unrest, we swiftly quelled it. You are our ally. We cannot bear to see you turn against us."
His tone was pleading, his eyes darting to the Emperor’s face. But he saw only mockery on the dragon’s features.
"And yet," Kai Xiusu lowered his head, staring down at the smaller Silver Dragon with a fierce grin, "our Cooperation Treaty contains no clause requiring the Empire to obey your order."
His voice grew heavier, louder—thunderous.
"Who are you to command us? What right do you have to dictate to dragons? Do you know—even Tiamat and Bahamut, even the most arrogant of Dragon Gods, could not bind me!"
Boom!
His wings snapped open, unleashing a colossal wave of Aura of Intimidation.
A hurricane of force ravaged the air around him. A spiritual pressure so intense it threatened to shatter minds—crushing the very soul.
Silence.
Absolute silence.
"What… was that?" Pablicheko’s vision blurred. His body froze. In his mind, shadowy images formed—thousands of meters-long dragon silhouettes. The ancestral dragons forged by King Aio, mythical beings from legend.
The Ancient Silver Dragon trembled violently, fear rising from the deepest roots of his bloodline.
But centuries of discipline gave him strength. He did not collapse. He forced himself to stand.
"They… they’re…”
Even with the crushing aura, Pablicheko could still see. Around him, the adult and young Silver Dragons stood frozen—faces blank, eyes lifeless, bodies rigid. They were utterly broken by the sheer weight of the Dragon’s presence.
"By Bahamut… such a Dragon’s might…"
In all his millennia, Pablicheko had never seen a dragon defeat adult Silver Dragons with mere Dragon Presence. Not even a Primordial Golden Dragon could do it. Only a true Dragon God—beyond mortal form—could achieve such dominance.
Then came something even more devastating.
The Red Dragon folded his wings, slowly opened his maw, and spoke in a calm, indifferent tone.
"Turn around."
The command was given.
Instantly, several adult and young Silver Dragons—like trained hounds—began circling their own tails, obediently, without pause.
They continued, endlessly, without a word. Without a break.
In that single moment, fueled only by the Ancestral Bloodline’s resonance, Kai Xiusu had controlled multiple Silver Dragons.
This was the true power of [Ancestral Dragon Presence].
Pablicheko’s jaw dropped. He stared, speechless. He had never witnessed such a sight—dragons, so proud and mighty, reduced to mindless, obedient puppets.
Kai Xiusu watched them with mild amusement, his deep voice echoing across the wasteland.
"I mean you no harm. I cherish my allies. Our pact—against demons, against the Abyssal Invasion—remains intact. But let it be known… if I wished, the Mervold Clan would be powerless to stop me."
The aura vanished.
The Silver Dragons snapped back to awareness. Dazed, confused, they stared at each other, heads throbbing.
"What… just happened?"
"My head hurts…"
"What did that Red Dragon do?"
But Pablicheko stood frozen, terror and awe warring within him.
Kai Xiusu paced slowly before the Ancient Silver Dragon, his voice calm.
"Also… if you’ve studied my past, you’d know. I’m the most compassionate dragon in existence. I grieve for every peasant’s toil. I cannot bear to see the people of Fadalan burned in war’s flames."
(End of Chapter)
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