The Ember Dragon Chapter 660: End and King Beneath the Mountain - Novel Cool

Chapter 660: End and King Beneath the Mountain

Kai Xiusu was like that—using his advantage of foresight, he constantly switched sides among the gods, earning their eternal hatred while remaining utterly beyond their reach. In the end, Dumason lowered his gaze and sighed, a rare sound from the usually silent deity.

"Ahh—"

That long, low, mournful tone echoed like the wind of autumn, or perhaps the final lament of the Shield Dwarves.

Dumason raised his Molten Hammer, pointing it toward the scorched, lava-choked ground behind him. A wave of ochre-yellow light spread like rising tide, the power of the Earth surging forth in overwhelming force.

Boom—

With a thunderous rumble, the stone statues flowed like liquid. The towering rock pillars sank into the earth, the bottomless fissures sealed shut. The crystals, gemstones, iron, copper, gold, silver, and mithril embedded in the Rock Dwarves’ bodies merged into the bedrock, flowing along mineral veins deep into the earth—returning to their rightful place.

These buried treasures, like the most loyal soldiers, obeyed Dumason’s command without hesitation.

"This is the authority of a deity," Kai Xiusu mused from his vantage on a nearby hill, watching the trembling earth with quiet admiration, as if the war that had just unfolded was nothing more than a distant spectacle.

Only a Red Dragon in full control of its Empire Domain could achieve such sweeping, precise transformation across the Prime Material Plane—yet even then, Dumason’s mastery surpassed it.

Then, Dumason touched the earth with his hammer, invoking a solemn intervention. Instantly, a cold wind howled across the land, and a sorrowful melody swept through hundreds of miles—like a dirge from the depths of time.

The corpses of the Shield Dwarves, scattered across the battlefield, glowed faintly yellow. One by one, their bodies rose, dissolving into the soil, sinking into the earth, becoming nourishment for the land.

"Dumason’s Rest."

Born from the mountains, the Dwarves had always returned to the stone. To die in the embrace of the earth—perhaps the most fitting end of all.

Finally, Dumason lifted his head, his silver-fire eyes locking onto the Red Dragon with a final, weary glance. Another sigh escaped him, and then he vanished—transforming into a streak of golden light, shooting straight into the heavens.

Dumason was gone.

In truth, even if he had not chosen to retreat, he could not have remained in the Prime Material Plane much longer. Ghūsh had united with the Demon Army of the Abyss, preparing to assault Dumason’s Divine Realm.

Weighing the costs, Dumason chose a truce with Kai Xiusu—focusing instead on the war in the Outer Planes. After all, the Shield Dwarves were not yet extinct. Their prince had already led their people to forge a new homeland.

In reality, the battle between Kai Xiusu and Dumason had been little more than a probing exchange. Though the scale was immense, neither side had unleashed their true secrets.

And the hundred-meter-tall Gundam-like Rock Dwarf still stood where it had fallen—now slowly curling into a ball, hugging its knees, then sinking into the earth like a living hill, growing still.

The remnant body of Aid lay buried beneath it, finally resting in eternal slumber.

The dwarves’ lament ended. The smoke in the sky, the billowing flame clouds, all began to fade. The noon sun pierced through the clouds, bathing the earth in golden light.

Under the frenzied, furnace-hot gazes of countless Imperial soldiers, the Red Dragon unfurled its wings and ascended into the sky. Its massive body glowed with a golden halo under the sunlight.

"Long Live Kai Xiusu!"

"Long Live the Great Red Dragon!"

"Deities! All of you—bow before His Majesty’s strength! Submit to the mighty Ashen Empire!"

"Praise the Great Red Dragon! He fought for our guardianship, and defeated a god!"

Tears welled in the soldiers’ eyes. Exhilaration, gratitude—raw emotion surged through their veins, pulsing through every root of their being.

They had no idea Kai Xiusu and Dumason had reached a mutual non-aggression pact. To them, the Emperor had utterly crushed Dumason, forcing the god to flee the Prime Material Plane in disgrace.

Kai Xiusu, of course, welcomed such rumors. For a Red Dragon with ambitions of deification, any tale that enhanced his prestige was music to his ears.

"Hahahaha! That Dwarf god is still cleaning up our battlefield! I’ve never seen a god who does the graveside work!" one Imperial soldier roared with laughter.

"Right? Gods aren’t so mighty after all. They’re nothing compared to our His Majesty!"

"And what of our gratitude?" someone sang again, this time with a new verse: "Heroic and fearless, fighting against a god!" Their voices trembled with emotion, shaking with ecstasy.

High above, Kai Xiusu spread his wings, his pale golden eyes scanning the ravaged Aivendeldan. Then he raised his head and let out a thunderous, earth-shaking roar.

"Roar—!"

Instantly, hundreds of Wyverns lifted their heads, stretching their necks and echoing with a unified, bone-chilling cry.

"Awooo—!"

Among them, the mightiest Two-Headed Dragon—Smaug, their chieftain—howled the loudest, his voice cracking, his throat raw. The sheer force of his roar cracked the surrounding cliffs, sending pebbles cascading down.

The stones fell into alleyways, startling a lone Dwarf crouched in the shadows.

He was Jar Brick—a battle-hardened Dwarf warrior, once proud, now filthy and bare-skinned, his body scarred with burns from war flames. He had fought valiantly on the city walls, only to be blasted into the air by Imperial weapons—barely surviving.

Jar had always believed himself fearless. He had chosen to stay in Aivendeldan, knowing the cost. But now, he trembled.

Fear gripped him. His face was ashen. His eyes held despair. In his mind, a single thought repeated: "Dumason… His Majesty… He abandoned us. Our ancestors… He abandoned us."

More terrifying than death was the collapse of faith. And Jar was living through it.

Once, he had been certain that after death, he would join the Divine Realm of the Dwarf gods, fighting alongside his ancestors. But now, he had seen Dumason battle the Red Dragon—and then leave. From hope to utter despair, the emotional whiplash shattered his soul.

Could I still reach the Divine Realm?

Am I to die here, in this dying city, for a lost kingdom? Wasting the remaining two centuries of my life?

Perhaps… perhaps the Great Goblin general had been right. If he surrendered, he might be spared. Offered mercy.

Cold sweat poured from his brow. The old, simple morality of his people clashed violently with the primal will to survive at all costs. He wavered.

But when he dared to glance up—toward the colossal Red Dragon, bathed in sunlight—his jaw dropped. He froze.

What a dragon.

In the golden light, Emperor Kai Xiusu shimmered with divine radiance, a halo of sacred fire around him. Dignity, majesty—his presence was no less than a true god’s.

"Long Live Emperor Kai Xiusu!"

"Victory!"

"Praise the Great Red Dragon!"

The soldiers’ cheers echoed through the city, shaking the walls. Even the rubble seemed to tremble.

Perhaps it was the frenzy, the awe, the sheer scale of power before him—but Jar, the man who had once sworn to die for his people, felt something unexpected stir in his chest.

To submit to such a ruler… perhaps it isn’t disgrace.

The thought took root. His knees grew weak.

And then, as the Two-Headed Dragon roared again, as the thunderous chants of the Imperial army swelled, Jar’s final defense crumbled.

He tore off his tattered clothes, raised them high as a white flag, and screamed before the rifles could tear him apart:

"I surrender! I surrender! I submit to the Empire!"

"Cease fire!"

"Good! Take him to Drool General!"

Under the officer’s command, Imperial soldiers surged forward, dragging Jar away.

Thus, the first Dwarf to surrender to the Empire was taken.

With a resounding crack, Kai Xiusu descended upon the rooftop of the Dwarven Royal Palace. Thousands of Imperial officers and soldiers looked up, eyes wide with frenzy.

"His Majesty!"

"King Kai Xiusu!"

Knees hit the ground in unison. The soldiers pressed their lips to the earth where the Emperor’s wings had cast their shadow, in worship.

Drool, Misha, and Smaug arrived in haste.

"Hail His Majesty! May the Empire endure forever!"

Drool and Misha knelt immediately, hands pressed over their hearts, their calm voices trembling with excitement.

"Master (Dragon Tongue)."

Smaug landed beside them, bowing so deeply his forehead touched the ground, tail thrashing with eagerness.

Kai Xiusu tapped the stone beneath his claw, marveling at the Dwarven craftsmanship. Then, surveying the ruins, he said softly, "You did well."

Misha spoke quickly: "Master, if you hadn’t come, we would have been buried under rubble."

Drool, eager to flatter, puffed up: "Indeed, His Majesty! You defeated a god! Your strength surpasses even the gods! Your form is as mighty as a mountain, your wings darkening the sky, making all creation tremble!"

Kai Xiusu sighed, waving a claw. "Enough. I didn’t come for your flattery."

Drool chuckled nervously. "Of course, His Majesty. You remain humble. Rise."

Kai Xiusu couldn’t help but think: I only used overwhelming momentum to repel an incomplete avatar. Not a true victory over a god.

"Master… I… I…" Smaug tried to follow suit, but was cut off before he could speak. He growled in frustration, clawing at the ground.

"Not now," Kai Xiusu said. "Come with me."

He gestured. A flame portal burst open before him—leading straight to the Treasure Vault of the Lonely Mountain, just outside Aivendeldan.

Misha, Drool, and Smaug followed, stepping into a vast, empty cavern. The floor was scattered with gold coins and loose gemstones—yet nothing of real value remained.

Misha frowned. "Master… this is the legendary Treasure Vault of the Lonely Mountain? Damn it, the Dwarves must have emptied it already!"

Kai Xiusu nodded. "You’re correct. This is the Vault. And yes—it’s empty."

Drool gritted his teeth. "All that wealth! We could have built so many tanks!"

Smaug snarled, spitting fire. "Disgusting Dwarves! Greedy, filthy! They should all be wiped out!"

Ignoring the irony—he was the invader, and the wealth was earned by years of labor—Kai Xiusu tapped the stone floor with his claw.

"Your first objective," he said, "is to completely conquer Aivendeldan and use it as a base to march north, annihilating the Orc tribe."

Drool nodded eagerly. "Those orcs are just subordinates of the Dwarves. And the Dwarves are already defeated. With my army, I’ll slaughter every last one of them in the Ugo Grasslands!"

Misha shook her head. "General Drool, don’t be so overconfident."

Kai Xiusu gave a slight nod. "Misha. Show Drool the current state of the Orcs. That way, he’ll understand why I’m so urgent to take Aivendeldan."

"Yes, Master."

Misha snapped her fingers. Fire elemental particles swirled, coalescing into a vivid magical image.

And there it was—mountains covered in dense, writhing mushroom fields.

Even Drool, a Great Goblin, felt his scalp crawl. "W-what in the abyss is this?"

"Orc spores," Kai Xiusu explained. "They grow like mushrooms. Their underground eggs hatch new orcs."

Misha frowned deeply. "If left unchecked, these orcs could trigger a catastrophe that shakes the entire north."

Drool swallowed hard. The contempt in his heart vanished. He half-knelt again. "His Majesty… I will destroy every last one of them. With all my might."

Kai Xiusu exhaled a puff of sulfur-scented white smoke, dispersing the image. "Good. The Empire will send four thousand elite troops, massive weapons, and fifty thousand Stellarfallen to assist you in wiping out the orcs."

Drool bowed deeply. "Thank you, His Majesty."

Then Kai Xiusu turned to Smaug, a faint, knowing smile on his lips.

"The Dragon Horde has struggled to find a proper settlement in the Northern Aether. But from now on… Blackstone Mountain will be your nest."

Smaug’s eyes lit up.

Kai Xiusu had already planned it. He had stationed hundreds of Wyverns here, turning Blackstone Mountain into a second Wyvern Valley.

He pointed to the cavern wall. "This—once the Treasure Vault of the Lonely Mountain—will be your palace. Since you’ve proven yourself, I grant you a noble title. From this day forward, you shall be known as King Beneath the Mountain. How does that sound?"

The Red Dragon stared, half-smiling, half-challenging.

"Thank you, Master!" Smaug’s tail wagged furiously. His drool dripped from his jaws. Joy filled his soul.

And there, amidst the ashes of a war that claimed tens of thousands, Kai Xiusu’s dark whimsy finally found its full satisfaction.

(End of Chapter)

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