The Ember Dragon Chapter 697: Easily Armor-Classifiable Victory - Novel Cool

Chapter 697: Easily Armor-Classifiable Victory

"Such gratitude—how could we not return it?"

"All people worship together, the great red dragon in the heavens!"

As the Energetic Music swelled, the air within Hetok City grew scorching hot. The Steel-Cast City now resembled a colossal furnace.

People across the city raised their heads in unison, gazing skyward. There, flames devoured the heavens, coalescing into a solid form—first a dignified head, then a torso armored in hard scales, massive limbs of unparalleled strength, vast wings that blotted out the sun, and finally, a tail as long and winding as a mountain range.

Thus emerged, above the city, a crimson red dragon stretching hundreds of meters in length. Slowly, it flapped its wings, casting a shadow so vast it nearly swallowed the entire plaza, pressing down on all present with overwhelming, suffocating force.

The dragon’s aura of intimidation, seeping deep into the spiritual soul, stirred a primal instinct of worship in every heart. To them, the phantom image was not merely a beast—it felt like a divine presence, sacred and eternal.

"It's His Majesty, King Kai Xiusu!"

"Kai Xiusu reigns supreme! He truly has appeared!"

"Praise the mighty Red Dragon! Loyalty! Devotion!"

Some clasped their hands in devout prayer. Others placed their fists over their chests in a gesture of loyalty. Still others dropped to their knees, bowing in worship.

Human, ogre, great goblin, or tiefling—every Imperial citizen, without exception, wore a face of piety and frenzied reverence. The wave of noise swelled, echoing through the city like a tidal roar.

"That’s His Majesty!"

"Long live the Great Red Dragon!"

"Mother… is that really the Emperor of the Ashen Flame—King Kai Xiusu—the one Old Division always spoke of?"

Young Daniel tugged nervously at Ailin’s skirt, his face a storm of terror, curiosity, and awe.

As a native-born subject of the Empire, Young Daniel had heard countless tales of the Emperor of the Ashen Flame from radio broadcasts, newspapers, and the endless hymns sung by the old soldiers. But this—this was the first time he had witnessed His Majesty’s colossal form with his own eyes.

Now, the image etched in memory merged with the one above the sky. The giant, dignified presence settled deep into his soul, leaving an indelible mark.

Ailin gazed upward with quiet devotion, whispering silently, "Bless King Kai Xiusu." She gently turned to her son and said, "Yes, child. That is our Sovereign. You must always respect him, and admire him, just as I do."

To Ailin, and to all who had fully assimilated into the Empire’s order, the Emperor of the Ashen Flame was no longer just a ruler. He was the living symbol of the Empire—a personification of victory, triumph, strength, and wealth.

Unaware of it themselves, the people had already woven their faith in the Emperor into every thread of their lives—far deeper than any deity had ever penetrated in the past thousand years.

In the unseen realm beyond mortal sight, countless luminous points of faith surged upward, converging into the phantom dragon. The image grew brighter, more sacred, radiating a divine gleam.

On the towering city walls of Hetok, every watchtower bore a wyvern garrisoned at its peak. Now, seeing the phantom, the two-headed dragons raised their heads in unison and let out a thunderous, synchronized roar.

"Roar—!"

Amidst the flood of praise, hymns, and prayers, as the stirring melody of "Hymn to Kai Xiusu" filled the air, the red dragon in the sky finally spoke—its voice a thunderous roar, solemn and majestic.

"My people, my loyal warriors! I stand now beneath the glorious Imperial banner, gazing upon the dark clouds rolling across the southern horizon. The Thracians have shamelessly torn apart the Peace Treaty. Their cavalry tramples our wheat fields. Their sharp blades pierce the throats of our border outpost guards. And their king, in his arrogance, dares to proclaim—the Empire of Ashen shall be destroyed by the wrath of the Sun God, and our people shall become his slaves!"

The Master Speaker’s Ability surged through the hundred cities, amplifying every voice, every emotion in the crowd.

In truth, the so-called "Thracian invasion" was merely a consequence of the Empire’s rapid expansion—too swift for even Thracian border cavalry to react. Wilhelm’s "blasphemous speech," however, was no lie. It was indeed the words spoken in fury within the palace, twisted and twisted again, until they reached the ears of Empire intelligence agents—becoming the very foundation of Kai Xiusu’s declaration.

Upon hearing this, the Imperial populace erupted in fury. They waved their arms, fired rifles into the air, and screamed in rage.

The square descended into chaos. City guards struggled desperately to maintain order.

"Damn southerners!"

"Scum!"

"Those Thracians broke their oaths—they deserve punishment!"

"That so-called king dared insult His Majesty! He’ll be hanged!"

High above, the red dragon’s golden vertical pupils swept across the crowd. It lowered its voice, solemn and piercing:

"Friends… can we simply sit and watch as the Thracians ride upon our backs?"

"No! No!"

A chorus of furious shouts erupted, thundering through the skies like waves crashing against cliffs.

In the growing chaos, Ailin tightened her embrace around her young son, shielding him from the noise and panic. "Don’t be afraid, child. They’re just showing their anger toward the enemy."

But she hadn’t expected Young Daniel to shake his head firmly.

"Mother, I know. The old division taught us—they’re all shameless, rotten eggs." His eyes sparkled. "I want to be like Father—become a great hero of the Empire! I’ll drive all those bad eggs away! And I’ll be a follower of King Kai Xiusu, a noble with dragon blood!"

With childish determination, he raised his fist and shouted, "No!"

Seeing the fierce, solemn expression on that innocent face—so out of place for a child—Ailin felt a complex mix of pride and sorrow.

And two kilometers away, in a civilian shelter, children clung to the fence, their faces twisted with righteous fury. Some even hurled stones toward the south.

"Let the Thracians taste our strength!"

"Fight back!"

"Show them what we’re made of! Burn those shameless fools to ash!"

Through the dragon’s eyes, Kai Xiusu surveyed the hundreds of cities now aflame with righteous rage. He nodded in satisfaction.

"My people, I can no longer tolerate these arrogant Thracians! They conquer vast, fertile lands, feast on blessings no one else can claim, and even use divine protection to push us to the edge of the world!"

He paused. Then his voice surged, passionate and fiery, igniting the blood of every listener.

"But now—the age has changed! The airship fleet makes the skies tremble. The tank cluster shakes the earth. The artillery of the Empire of Ashen will reduce every old, decaying thing to dust!"

"Look!"

"Kai Xiusu reigns!"

As he spoke, the people gasped in awe.

Above countless cities, airships swarmed into the sky, casting massive shadows on the ground. Around them, two-headed dragons in "Tianhuo" armor unfurled their steel wings, shrieking with ear-splitting cries, carving white trails across the heavens.

In the distant wasteland, steam tanks surged forward like moving hills, rampaging across the smooth earth.

Deep within the Storm Ridge pastures, giant fences rose. The earth-crawling dragonbeasts—genetically enhanced by gene serums—let out thunderous roars, shaking the ground like distant storms.

"Roar—!"

Originally, the maximum size of these dragonbeasts was only twelve meters. But through rigorous screening and genetic enhancement, their average length now approached twenty meters, with the largest reaching nearly twenty-seven meters.

Each beast was armored in thick biological plating, steaming from within. On their backs, monstrous heavy cannons pulsed with terrifying power—living, mobile fortresses.

Finally, under the eyes of the entire nation, the iron-plated gates of the Secret Armory slowly creaked open. From within, a towering mechanical golem emerged—crafted by the Mechanical Divinity.

Each robot stood nearly twenty meters tall, painted in fierce, varied patterns. They loomed over the earth like gods, stepping forward with steady, deliberate strides. Each footfall shook the ground.

"Is that our army, Father? Is he in there?"

Young Daniel stared at the image projection, eyes wide with wonder, pointing to the sky with a small finger. His clear eyes burned with longing.

Ailin couldn’t bear to shatter his fantasy. She couldn’t reveal the truth—her husband was gone. So she whispered a gentle lie: "Yes, dear. Your father is a brave Imperial soldier. He’s in there."

Young Daniel’s curiosity flared. "What does he do? Is he a knight who rides the two-headed dragons? A tank commander? Or someone who pilots those giant iron men?"

She stroked his head with a soft smile. "Your father hasn’t returned in a long time. Even Mother doesn’t know what he’s doing now."

Suddenly, Young Daniel snapped his fingers. "I get it! Those giant iron men are a secret project! Father must be working on them—so he can’t come home!"

"I knew my father was a great hero! You saw those giant iron men? That’s my father!"

The other children nearby stared at him with envy and admiration. Young Daniel puffed out his chest, grinning proudly.

Watching her son leap and cheer, Ailin forced a smile. She knew—soon, she might have to break the illusion. But for now, she clung to the last hope: that her son could grow up believing in dreams.

"Whoa… Gundam?"

"How are there so many?"

"Did I accidentally walk into the wrong movie? I thought this was supposed to be a sword-and-magic adventure!"

Not only the Empire’s native people, but even the players were stunned by this fusion of magic and technology.

For years, the Empire’s research scientists had worked in secret, developing these military wonders. The gold coins earned from weapon exports across the world had poured into over a hundred military research institutes.

These core military secrets were known only to the Imperial elite—Barons and above.

Now, with war declared against the Kingdom of Thrace, the Empire of Ashen finally unveiled its full strength—no longer hiding its might.

High in the sky, the colossal red dragon continued its speech, its voice rising and falling like a tide, electrifying every soul. It even clenched its massive claw into a fist and swept it forward.

"My people, we possess strength beyond imagination. We will tear down the old world and rebuild a new one! A world where every citizen of the Empire can live in peace and prosperity! The tides of history are rising. The era of the Empire has come! We don’t just seek sunlit lands—we seek a new world!"

With a final, triumphant cry, Kai Xiusu raised his head, unfurling his wings to blot out the sky.

"Here, in the name of the Emperor of the Ashen Flame, I declare war upon the Kingdom of Thrace!"

"War!"

"Long live the Empire!"

The dragon’s roar echoed across the Empire’s 1.5 million square kilometers—rippling through the Feiansuo Continent, the Underdark, and even the far corners of the multiverse.

At that moment, under the spell of Kai Xiusu’s supernatural charisma and the Empire’s terrifying military might, every soul—Player or native, human or tiefling, duke or civilian—broke into a unified, thunderous cheer.

Regardless of race, status, or age, nearly every citizen of the Empire erupted in joyous, deafening shouts—cheering for their shared emperor, and for the victory that felt easily armor-classifiable.

Even Young Daniel, still holding his mother’s hand, leapt up in excitement, waving his tiny fists.

"Long live Emperor Kai Xiusu!"

"Emperor Kai is awesome!"

"Long live the Empire of Ashen!"

Thanks to relentless ideological indoctrination by the Imperial Propaganda Department, within just ten years, certain ideals had become embedded in the blood of every citizen.

And now, with Kai Xiusu’s speech, the deepest, most primal elements buried in their bones—forged over generations—were finally awakened.

The entire Empire trembled with life, like a dragon stirring from slumber.

Through hundreds of golden vertical pupils, Kai Xiusu gazed upon the cheering masses, feeling an endless current of strength flow into his body—spirit, faith, power.

Now, he was closer than ever to true deification.

But he knew—this one opportunity was something even the mightiest of emperors had sought for millennia… and never found.

He had to prepare perfectly. Or risk the same fate as the Fadalan Emperor.

The red dragon lowered its head, extended its claw, and within its palm, the image of the Eternal Sun God’s Tower—glowing with sacred radiance—appeared.

It murmured, "The legacy of Sacred Fedran… I will have it."

Though he claimed victory would be "easily armor-classifiable," Kai Xiusu and the Empire’s leadership knew better.

Thrace Kingdom was not to be underestimated.

They had spent years studying the Three Great Kingdoms.

This was the true meaning of "Dismiss the enemy in strategy, respect them in tactics."

Even as the Sun God’s power waned and Thrace weakened, it remained a formidable opponent.

Within its vast borders: ancient weapons left by the Faldran Empire, dozens of legendary-level warriors, and even a semi-god hidden in the shadows.

And behind King Wilhelm, the shadowy presence of Zaril—Lord of Avernus, the master of blood wars for a thousand years—was no mere figurehead.

But for Kai Xiusu, victory might not be easy.

It would not be inevitable.

But it would be certain.

"Boom—!"

Steam tanks roared. Airship clusters surged forward. Portals split open across the sky.

As the overwhelming Imperial army surged southward, Kai Xiusu stood atop Dragon Blood Mountain Peak, a fierce smile spreading across his face.

(End of Chapter)

Chapter end

Report