https://novelcool.info/chapter/Chapter-584-The-Reputation-That-Spreads-The-Illusion-of-Shadows/13677383/
https://novelcool.info/chapter/Chapter-586-The-Paradise-of-the-Gold-Dragon/13677385/
Chapter 585: Orola's Visit
Aivendeldan, the fortress that had stood for millennia upon Blackstone Mountain, now lay in ruins. Cracks ran through its shattered walls and broken remains, wounds bleeding into the earth. Dwarves and Elves silently gathered their fallen comrades' corpses, burning the piles of Ogre carcasses amassed at the city gate. Thick gray smoke curled into the sky, and a solemn, mournful atmosphere hung over the city. Dwarf artisans worked in quiet grief, repairing the crumbling city walls while softly singing the ancient Lament.
"With the iron hammer's ringing clang, the Dwarves forged their grand fortress."
A mournful battle cry echoed from the northern grasslands, where savage, evil creatures had gathered.
After this brutal battle, Aivendeldan’s outer defenses had been reduced to rubble. Nearly six thousand Dwarf heroes now lay buried beneath the soil. With only thirty thousand Dwarves remaining in the entire city, nearly every resident had lost a family member, a beloved, or a close friend.
The surviving nine thousand Dwarf warriors now bivouacked beyond the city walls alongside the Elves of Serrynia, forming patrol units to eliminate scattered Ogre cavalry reconnaissance squads and scout the next move of the North Crimson Blood Tribe.
"The wine we once shared together now spills upon the ground—more radiant than gold or gemstone, the spiritual soul shines in Serrynia. Farewell, my friend."
Aid Klein stood atop the city wall, softly singing the Dwarven folk song Farewell Song, passed down through generations. He gazed out over the endless Ugo Grassland, letting out a long, weary sigh. The cost had been terrible, but victory had been theirs.
The millennia-old legacy of the High Mountain Kingdom—the glory of the Shield Dwarves—had been preserved. Yet, what of the future?
Biyao leaned on his crutch behind him, his voice laced with concern.
"Your Majesty, we’ve won a glorious victory. Why do you mourn?"
"Biyao, you must see it too."
Silence.
The old Dwarf said nothing, only stared at Aid’s pale, weakened face.
The King of the Dwarves gave a wry smile. "I never thought I’d die before you, a man of four hundred years. I fear not death—but I’m not ready to go. I can’t abandon the High Mountain Kingdom."
"Your Majesty..."
A long silence followed. They had served together for centuries. No words were needed. They knew each other’s thoughts.
Aid knew—after fusing his body with the Pillar of Stone Hammer, his time was short. If not for the intervention of that “Dragon of Dawn,” he would not have survived to this moment. The Soul-Forging Flame within the pillar burned too fiercely. His flesh was already consumed, and now his very spirit was slowly burning away—irreversibly.
This decay could not be undone even by resurrection magic. And Dwarves, unlike mages, were not skilled in such spells.
And now, the continental situation teetered on chaos. Not only the Ogres from the north, but the Bottomless Abyss, the Nine Hells, and the three great kingdoms—each power stirred, eager to strike. When the next crisis came, how could the High Mountain Kingdom survive without the endurance of its “Furnace Controller”?
“We must descend into the deep underground caves, to seek the golden hue,” Aid murmured.
Together, Aid and Biyao turned their gaze toward the distant horizon, listening in silence to the lingering echoes of the Lament.
After a long pause, the old Dwarf finally spoke, his voice barely a whisper.
"Your Majesty… I have a method. One that might protect Aivendeldan for at least a century."
Aid met his eyes. He already knew what Biyao meant. Calmly, he asked:
"Are you certain this is truly possible?"
Biyao lowered his gaze, his wry smile tinged with sorrow.
"Your Majesty… it’s our last resort."
"Roar—!"
Suddenly, a deep, resonant roar split the sky. Dwarves and Elves alike looked up. A dark speck appeared on the horizon.
"What is that?"
"Look—up in the sky!"
"Is it an enemy? Or perhaps an ally of the Ogres?"
"Alert! We must defend Aivendeldan to the death!"
The patrol units grabbed their weapons—bows, long spears—on high alert, voices buzzing with tension. Aid and Biyao shared the same serious expression, eyes fixed on the sky.
The speck grew larger, resolving into a golden dragon over ten meters long.
"A Gold Dragon?" Aid raised his hand, signaling his soldiers to stand down. His voice was firm.
"Lower your weapons. This is a noble and benevolent creature—our eternal ally, the kin of Lord Titus!"
"A Gold Dragon!"
"Of course—such grace and beauty. No wonder he’s kin to Titus!"
The soldiers relaxed, lowering their weapons. Their faces, once tense, now eased with relief.
They had witnessed with their own eyes how this dragon had fought beside them—burning enemies, slaying the Crimson Blood Tribe’s chieftain. And for days now, Titus had circled above the city, showering them with gentle radiance, healing the wounded. To the Dwarves and Elves, this dragon was a living avatar of justice, a steadfast ally.
So how could Titus’s kin be an enemy?
The golden dragon glided gracefully, its wings undulating in a wave-like flight, as if swimming through the air. It landed lightly upon the city tower, folding its wings like a great golden moth.
The Dwarves studied the newcomer. Compared to Titus, this dragon was smaller—more slender, more elegant. Its golden scales shimmered with intricate, delicate patterns, and a warm scent of saffron and spice drifted around it.
Aid nodded in greeting, calm and dignified.
"Esteemed and noble Gold Dragon, welcome. I am Aid, Lord of the Mountains. Why have you come to our city, still scarred by war?"
The dragon opened its mouth, and a clear, sweet, almost innocent voice rang out across the city wall.
"Aid, Your Majesty, I am Orola. I come from the South. I seek the legendary ‘Dragon of Dawn,’ Titus—your savior. His deeds in defending the Dwarves have filled me with admiration."
Aid’s expression softened—as expected. He pointed toward a cave deep within Blackstone Mountain.
"Of course. Titus resides there. He is resting now. He is a noble, just, and responsible warrior—our eternal benefactor. During the war’s end, he often circled above the city, healing our wounded."
"Thank you, Aid, Your Majesty."
Orola’s tone was sincere. She nodded once, then took flight with a graceful flap of her wings, soaring toward the cave.
As she vanished into the distance, Aid murmured, "Biyao… perhaps you’re right. The High Mountain Kingdom may indeed need a stronger, more enduring ally—one who can protect us for centuries."
"Good morning, Titus Elder," Orola called softly as she landed a few meters from the cave entrance. "I am Orola, daughter of Akalof, from the southern Gold Dragons. May I enter?"
Even for a Gold Dragon, intruding upon a nest was impolite—especially when it was a treasure hoard. Orola was careful, not wanting to provoke the elder or offend him. After all, she knew from experience that ancient Gold Dragons were often stubborn, set in their ways.
"Enter," came a low voice from within.
Orola’s eyes lit up. She stepped forward, carefully controlling her gaze—respecting the customs of the elder dragon.
Inside the temporary lair, there was little treasure. Dwarves had brought gold, but Kai Xiusu had kept it locked deep within the cave.
After passing through a narrow tunnel, the young dragon stepped into the “hall” of the nest—and saw the legendary figure for the first time.
She bowed her head, folded her wings, and lowered her front limbs in respectful greeting.
"Good morning, Elder Titus."
She peeked up—her breath caught.
Before her stood a dragon over thirty meters long, its entire body shimmering with golden scales, broad wings stretching wide. Beneath its jaws grew a dozen delicate gill-like tendrils. Its eyes—deep, pools of molten gold—held wisdom and mystery.
To a Gold Dragon’s eye, this elder was undeniably a “handsome warrior.”
An Ancient Gold Dragon! Orola’s heart leapt. To know that such a being still walked the material plane was rare. Most ancient Gold Dragons chose to ascend to Heaven’s Mountain, serving under King Bahamut. Those who remained in the mortal realm were driven by strong duty and a sense of justice.
And so, Titus—Kai Xiusu—studied the young dragon with golden eyes.
> [Orola·Vipsania·Agrippina]
> Challenge Rating: 16
> A young female Gold Dragon—innocent in appearance, yet stronger than most of her kind. Her power rivals that of an adult Gold Dragon.
> Unusually, her scales bear intricate, finely etched patterns.
> At this stage, she is unlikely to be an envoy from Bahamut.
Kai Xiusu spoke, voice calm and probing.
"Little kin… why have you come? Is it… the time of the Golden Dragon Council?"
He was testing. The Gold Dragons had a world-spanning hierarchy, led by a figure known as the “Chief Regent”—elected from among the Primordial Golden Dragons and serving until retirement. The Council met once every few centuries to deliberate great matters.
Orola blinked, confused.
"Titus Elder… if I recall correctly, the next Council is thirty years away. And I’m still a young dragon. I don’t have the rank to be invited."
Kai Xiusu sighed, a wry smile on his lips.
"Hmph. It seems I’ve been gone from the world too long. Time has slipped from my memory."
The master of ambiguity.
Say just enough to seem profound—and others will assume you’re deeper than they are.
Orola listened in silence, letting her imagination paint a tale of ancient sorrow and epic sacrifice. But she dared not ask. It would be rude.
Truly, a dragon of a thousand years…
After a moment, she spoke again.
"Titus Elder… I heard of your heroic deeds. I admired you deeply. So I came to visit."
Kai Xiusu chuckled.
"Orola… I know you’re hiding something. Speak plainly. What is it you truly seek?"
The young dragon scratched her claw, embarrassed.
"You’re right… I’ll be honest. Elder Titus, your dedication to Justice and Order inspires us. We invite you to join the Carved Skin Organization as one of our Lorze Elders."
Carved Skin. The name rang a bell.
Kai Xiusu looked at the intricate patterns on Orola’s scales—then understood.
The Carved Skin Dragon—a secretive order of dragons and half-dragons. Their name came from the sacred markings etched onto their scales—symbols granting them supernatural protection.
Like monks among humans, the Carved Skin dragons were disciplined, focused on self-perfection and mystical transcendence. But unlike monks, they didn’t build monasteries. Instead, they formed small groups called Lorze, each sharing a territory. When one was threatened, the others would rally instantly.
Kai Xiusu felt a surge of joy. He had been searching for this organization—now it had come to him.
As a Monk-like advancement, Carved Skin dragons possessed iron wills, resistant to chaos energy and other supernatural forces. With this path, Kai Xiusu would gain stronger resistance to the Deep Abyss demons—and greater clarity of mind, free from the influence of Karex’s will.
Though ecstatic inside, Kai Xiusu kept his face calm.
"Carved Skin… I’ve heard of them. A disciplined, lawful order. Sounds… promising."
Orola nodded eagerly.
"Titus Elder, we will grant you the full heritage of the Carved Skin. And—we will provide gold coins as your stipend."
Kai Xiusu smiled, warm and paternal.
"I accept. As long as your cause is justice and order."
Orola’s eyes sparkled with delight. She stepped forward, whispering:
"Titus Elder… you are as kind and powerful as legend says. Welcome to our fold."
In the cave, the true Gold Dragon and the impostor shared a quiet smile. The scene was harmonious.
Orola rejoiced at gaining such a powerful ally.
And Kai Xiusu? He was silently thrilled—a free ride to a new advancement, and a perfect way to infiltrate the Metal Dragon’s inner circle.
(End of Chapter)
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