Chapter 559: Radiant Glory
"Roar—!"
A long, piercing Dragon Roar echoed across a hundred miles, its power rippling through the air like a divine decree. The overwhelming presence of the Dragon descended slowly, pressing down on the crowd like an invisible weight, stirring within them an instinctive urge to kneel in worship.
Fzzzt—
A crackle split the air, followed by a howling gale.
Forty meters long, the Red Dragon unfurled its vast wings, unleashing a scorching hurricane. Ember sparks flickered like fireflies in the sunlight as it leapt from the summit of the Isdalia Grand Altar, soaring into the sky.
Sunlight glinted off its crimson scales, wrapping the beast in a faint, shimmering halo—so ethereal it seemed as if a deity had descended from the heavens.
The dragon’s wings, spanning nearly sixty meters, cast a massive shadow over the land, blanketing thousands of Imperial nationals beneath. Yet no one trembled in fear. Instead, their eyes burned with excitement, their hearts swelling with honor.
In other realms, such a shadow might have signaled death. But in the Empire of Ashen, it was a banner of glory, a sign of fortune.
"Kai Xiusu above!"
"Such an honor!"
"His Majesty… he’s right above me!"
Tens of thousands gazed upward, their eyes fixed on the colossal, majestic form of the Red Dragon. Reverence and awe filled the air.
Among the crowd, beneath the dragon’s shadow, stood a cloaked figure—a Half-Elf disguised as an Imperial merchant. This was Richard Sieg, double agent for both the Empire and the Lutehand Alliance.
Now, he stared upward, expression blank, his gaze haunted. His soul felt hollow.
"Kai Xiusu above..."
The phrase had become second nature after years of living undercover in the Empire. He spoke it without thinking.
Years ago, during the coronation ceremony that shook the continent, Richard had realized one truth: the dragon—this Emperor of the Ashen Flame—was no mere man. No mortal force could ever defeat him.
He would never have the strength to avenge his enemy. His only dream now was to rescue Abeir and return to the South, to live a quiet, simple life far from war.
But just now, he witnessed something that shattered that dream completely.
On the altar, a familiar figure emerged—tall, elegant, with emerald eyes and the pointed ears of an elf.
It was her. Abeir. The Serrynian Ranger he had dreamed of, loved in his deepest thoughts.
Yet now, she stood upon the Isdalia Grand Altar, her face alight with frenzy, gazing upward with unwavering devotion—awaiting the Emperor’s Bestowal.
Richard dared not let his sorrow show. He forced a weak smile, afraid that if he looked too haunted, someone might mistake him for a spy—someone who could be sold for fifty gold coins.
In the Empire, such betrayal was a common trade. Spies were so common they were affectionately known as "Fifty Gold."
"No… this can’t be," Richard whispered, his voice trembling. His pale face turned even paler.
"Long live Emperor Kai Xiusu!"
"Long live the Empire!"
"For the Great Red Dragon!"
The thunderous cheers of the crowd roared like a storm, but Richard heard only silence. His ears buzzed with a dull, painful hum.
He watched as the elf—Abeir—shouted with the others, her cheeks flushed, her eyes wild with ecstasy. She looked no different from the rest of the Imperial subjects.
According to the Half-Red Dragon Announcer, she was a shining example of redemption—her soul purified, her loyalty pledged to the Empire. The first elf to join.
She had been brainwashed.
In Richard’s mind, a line from the Imperial Daily flashed:
"The bestowed soul is granted spiritual blessing—eternal loyalty to the Empire, immortality bound to the Great Emperor of the Ashen Flame."
"No, Abeir… you can’t become his follower," Richard murmured, his voice cracking. He reached out toward her, as if he could touch her, to pull her back—but she only gazed upward, devout, unaware.
He knew what would happen if he tried to stop the ritual. He would be imprisoned. And she? She would be lost forever.
Yet if he did nothing… she would become a soul slave to the Emperor, trapped in an eternal bond, never to be free. Their dream of peace would vanish.
"Abeir… don’t."
A suffocating wave of despair crashed over him. It felt as if an invisible hand had closed around his throat, choking the breath from his lungs.
Once, he had been bold and confident—had made a pact with wild elves, believed himself a legendary hero destined to save the world.
Now? He knew the truth. He was just a mortal, powerless against fate.
Before such a colossal entity as the Empire of Ashen, before a sovereign who walked like a god—Richard Sieg was nothing more than dust.
He lifted his head, staring at the dragon rising into the sky, its wings blotting out the sun. In his eyes, a flicker of despair remained.
"No…"
But in that moment, in the midst of such radiant glory, no one noticed.
The ritual continued. The Emperor of the Ashen Flame still hung in the sky, eternal as the sun—unchanged by mortal will.
"Roar—!"
The dragon’s roar grew deeper, more powerful, shaking the heavens and earth. It echoed across Anzeta, making every creature lift its head toward Isdalia City.
Kai Xiusu spread his wings—nearly sixty meters wide—and fire erupted from the edges of his wing membranes, flaring outward in a blazing wave.
The sky itself seemed torn open by the immense, flaming wings spanning thousands of meters.
Whoosh—
The Red Dragon slowly swept its wings. A torrent of flowing flame erupted, splashing across the city, bathing Isdalia in a haze of golden light. The air burned with heat.
"It’s time."
Kai Xiusu channeled every ounce of his bloodline strength. His heart pounded like a forge hammer. The ancestral dragon blood surged through his veins, scorching hot. Sulfur-scented smoke poured from his porous organs.
A radiant light gathered within his body, flowing upward until it converged in the Dragon Crystal at his chest.
The Red Dragon hovered above the sky, unleashing a light so intense it spanned ten thousand zhang—bright enough to eclipse the sun, as if it were a second sun in the heavens.
The blinding light forced people to close their eyes, yet they still bowed in reverence, chanting prayers.
"Kai Xiusu above!"
"Praise the Emperor of the Ashen Flame!"
"His Majesty… He is the eternal sun of the Empire!"
Then came the deep, thunderous voice, echoing through heaven and earth, rolling across the vast wastelands like a storm.
"I, as Emperor of the Ashen Flame, declare—any who oppose the Empire shall be utterly destroyed!"
Zzzt—
A sharp crack split the air. Meteor-like stars plummeted from the sky, raining down upon the crowd.
A few panicked figures were struck. Their human skins burned away instantly, revealing the true forms of demons beneath—screaming as they were consumed in fire.
The flames purged the demons from the city, yet left the innocent untouched.
"There were demons in the Empire all along? It was hiding among us!"
"Thank the Emperor—He saw through their lies!"
"Thank you, His Majesty! Praise the Emperor of the Ashen Flame!"
But no one knew—these demons had been planted by Kai Xiusu himself, part of the grand spectacle for this very ritual.
In the crowd, Richard Sieg wiped a cold sweat from his brow. He had thought the Emperor had seen his rebellious thoughts, had sent a thunderbolt to punish him.
Now he realized—he had been too tense.
How could a god like the Emperor care for a mere Ranger?
The thunderous voice continued, shaking the air. The deaths of a few demons were but a minor detail.
"And those loyal to the Empire—I shall grant them unparalleled glory, eternal strength!"
A cascade of radiant beams descended from the sky, like golden threads connecting heaven and earth. They struck the people on the altar, enveloping them in a luminous glow.
"No…"
"Abeir…"
Richard watched the figure in the light fade into shadow. His heart broke. He reached out blindly, his gaze dimming.
Kai Xiusu clenched his claws. The ancestral bloodline strength within him exploded.
He had already absorbed much of the ancestral dragon blood. This Bestowal would grant power unlike any before—power that could elevate a follower to true dragonhood.
[Bloodline Gift]
A network of light pulsed through the air, linking Emperor of the Ashen Flame with his followers—body, mind, and soul.
"Ahh—"
Under the surge of power, every noble on the altar collapsed to their knees, writhing in agony. Some curled into themselves.
Red scales began to rise beneath their skin. Sulfur smoke poured from their mouths and noses. Horns sprouted from their foreheads.
For those with strong bloodlines, the transformation was even more extreme.
Great Goblin Dolo knelt, drenched in sweat, white smoke spiraling from his body. A massive bulge formed on his back—like a volcano about to erupt.
In the pain, he gritted his teeth. His fangs jutted out, smoke bursting from between his teeth.
Slap—
A tearing sound.
Dolo roared, arching his back, arms outstretched. Then—his wings burst forth from his back, soaked in blood, spraying crimson droplets into the air.
With ragged breaths, the dragon-blooded goblin leapt into the air, a scorching gale trailing behind him.
"Aaaargh!"
The roar was unmistakably dragon-like.
On the highest point of the altar, the Dragonblood Ogre let out a deep, rumbling growl. Even kneeling, he stood over three meters tall.
In the light, his body swelled with each breath, his scales thickening, his form becoming denser.
Two bulges formed on his back—something stirring beneath.
Fzzzt—
Another tearing sound.
Two fleshy wings tore through his skin, flapping wildly, emitting a buzzing hum. Yet the ogre did not move—rooted to the ground.
Now, he stood nearly ten meters tall, a mountain of flesh. His wings, however, were barely over a meter long—more like ornamental flaps than functional appendages.
"Roar—!"
The ogre felt the dragon veins surging through him. He opened his massive, fanged maw and roared with delight.
But then he saw his own wings—tiny, ridiculous. He glanced at the Great Goblin soaring above, and his grin froze.
"Ugh…"
Beside him, Tiefling Meizhuolashi knelt, gasping under the pressure. He had missed a previous Bestowal—his dragonization level was far behind Dolo and Lanpu.
Now, white smoke poured from his body. His red scales rose, and his Nine Hells devil bloodline was suppressed by the ancestral dragon blood.
In an instant, his ram-like horns bent backward, transforming into the sweeping, elegant horns of a Red Dragon. His long tail thickened, scales and ridges forming along its length—becoming a true dragon tail.
"Aaaarrrr!"
White Dragon Ti Nina screamed in pain, writhing on the ground, flailing her wings. She had no regard for dignity—she simply thrashed, desperate to escape the agony.
Kai Xiusu had even removed some of the Red Dragon’s flame essence to prevent conflict with her ancestral bloodline.
But even so, the surge of power was overwhelming.
Her massive, monstrous form expanded visibly, her body thickening, becoming stronger—closer to the powerful, mighty Red Dragon than the frail, delicate White Dragon she once was.
Her wing membranes turned a deep blue, like metal burning in fire, stretching wide. The edges connected far behind her legs, beneath her tail.
"Aaaarrrr!"
"For the Empire of Ashen!"
In the blazing light and smoke, the Dragon-Blooded Nobles roared, sprouting scales and horns. Their bodies slowly reshaped—drawing ever closer to the Emperor’s perfect form: the Dragon of Ember, Kai Xiusu.
"Great Red Dragon!"
"Such noble bearing! The Dragon-Blooded Nobles grow stronger!"
"Even the lowest Dragon-Blooded Baron lives over two hundred years!"
"Yes… this is His Majesty’s Bestowal. One day, I hope to stand upon that altar too."
The people below watched, hearts filled with envy and longing.
To become a Dragon-Blooded Noble meant instant power, privilege, and eternal benefit within the Empire’s system.
But among the crowd, one man—hooded, silent—stared in despair. His voice cracked with grief.
"No… no, Abeir. You shouldn’t become this…"
Richard stared at the figure in the beam, watching with his own eyes as the once-arrogant elf transformed. Horns, scales, claws—emerging from her body.
The new Dragon-blooded elf screamed praises to the Red Dragon in the sky, her voice wild with ecstasy.
Richard felt nothing but alienation. He shook his head, unable to accept it.
But he knew—there was nothing he could do.
After this Bestowal, his last hope of returning to the South, of living a quiet life with Abeir—was gone.
He had no choice.
He would remain a double agent, protecting her from within, searching for a way to break this curse.
"Abeir… I’ll save you from this."
With that thought, Richard pulled down his hood. His clenched fist turned white.
"Not bad… the ancestral bloodline is truly powerful. Even the Duke-level bloodlines are nearing true dragon strength."
High above, in the center of the thousand-meter flame wings, Kai Xiusu narrowed his eyes. His pale golden gaze flickered with anticipation.
He lowered his head, staring at the invisible Authority in his claw.
"Time to test… this new strength."
Crack!
He clenched his fist.
From the invisible Authority, a torrent of law force erupted—countless gleaming fragments scattered like stars across the sky.
[Imperial Grant of Divine Authority]
(End of Chapter)
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