Chapter 777: The Dragon Upon the Altar
Half-reluctant, half-drawn in, Adrian was led by the youthful Xin into a massive building forged from reinforced concrete, the air thick with the sharp, acrid scent of gunpowder clinging to the spines of rifles.
Outside, a towering steel sculpture stood in silent defiance—crossed rifles and dragon claws intertwined, sculpted from salvaged weapon frames, evoking an eerie, awe-inspiring presence.
"Please, Lord Adrian, this way," Xin said, his cheeks flushed with pride, gesturing toward the metallic gate with a flourish. "This is the headquarters of the Claubewu Military Group—the largest weapons supplier in the entire Empire, and indeed, across the whole of Feanso. We boast the finest weaponry and gear, the most elite mercenaries. If you’ve got the gold, we can even help you conquer a kingdom!"
Adrian and Rolf followed Xin through the building’s exhibition corridor, where model firearms and cannons lined both sides, each accompanied by vivid magical projections illustrating their devastating power.
At one colossal firearm’s display, a projection showed an Imperial soldier, breath held, raising his rifle with steady aim. A massive Abyssal Drake surged toward him, jaws agape, scales glistening with malice.
Bang!
The rifle roared. The soldier was thrown backward by the recoil, but in that instant, a bullet streaked forth—glowing with flame-light—piercing the beast’s chest. The dragon’s mountainous form collapsed with a thunderous boom, sending up a storm of dust and debris.
"Unbelievable power!" Rolf breathed, awestruck. "Its destructive force rivals a 4th-level spell!"
No wonder rumors whispered that these firearms imprisoned the souls of mortal warriors. To think such power could be forged from mere steel and wood—truly beyond comprehension.
Rolf thought to himself.
Adrian, too, was stunned, murmuring, "If only we had gear like this, we could stand against those who worship..."
Rolf immediately tugged at his sleeve, a silent warning. They still didn’t know the Emperor’s stance on the Dragon Worship Cult.
But Xin, unfazed, smiled as if nothing had happened. "Ah, this is our newest model—the Demon-Slaying III semi-automatic rifle. Exceptional power, and it deals extra damage to evil-aligned creatures. The ultimate weapon for hunting devils, demons, and cultists."
"May I ask about the price?" Adrian asked cautiously.
"Oh, you’ve come to the right person!" Xin beamed. "I’ve got a special new-customer deal—just two gold coins for one rifle. Buy over fifty, and we’ll throw in a mortar for free!"
He spoke with the enthusiasm of a man who’d just discovered a golden mine.
Adrian’s face fell. "We’re… currently without funds. All our possessions were taken by those villains."
Xin’s expression flickered, but he quickly recovered with a practiced smile. "No problem, my friend. You can loan it. The Imperial Bank has just launched a ‘Weapons Loan’ program for civilians and professionals. Only fifteen percent annual interest, and up to one hundred thousand gold coins in borrowing capacity!"
"They’ll send experts to assess your strength, gear, and status—only loaning you what you can realistically repay."
Listening to the slick, rehearsed pitch, Adrian felt a wave of dread. Though he didn’t fully understand the words, the trap was clear as day.
Then, the Paladin unclasped his armor and, from within the lining, withdrew a finely crafted magical dagger. He held it out.
"I don’t understand these modern tricks," he said. "Can you tell me what this Blade of Sudden Brilliance is worth?"
"Ah! You have a magical artifact? Of course! In the Empire, enchanted gear is real currency—we’ll give you a fair price!"
Xin’s face lit up. He reached out, eager to take the blade—when, in a flicker of movement, his eyes caught sight of the Imperial token hanging from the armor’s inner lining.
His expression shifted instantly.
"Is that… an Audience Token? By Kai Xiusu’s name! You actually have one of these?!"
His face contorted into a mask of worshipful awe. He immediately handed the dagger back, bowing low, almost prostrating himself.
Rolf tensed. Though the weave of magic here was heavily suppressed, he instinctively gripped his staff tighter.
Adrian, however, remained calm. "Xin, what does this token mean?"
"This… this is an Audience Token!" Xin stammered, his voice trembling. "It grants you audience with the Supreme King Kai Xiusu himself—face-to-face with the Emperor!"
"Kai Xiusu, the Eternal Flame, the Dragon of Victory and Radiance! The very symbol of the Empire! This is glory beyond imagining—something ordinary citizens can only dream of! Only barons and higher-ranking figures are ever granted such honor!"
Adrian stared at Xin’s flushed, ecstatic face, seeing genuine awe, reverence, and disbelief. It was no act.
A deep surprise stirred within him.
In his mind, red dragons were cruel beasts—mindless monsters devoid of morality. In the Kingdom of Seleucus, they often swooped over cities in droves, unleashing torrents of fire that turned homes to ash, leaving behind screams and wails.
Then, they’d descend into the streets, plucking young men and women from their homes like choosing tender cuts of meat, tossing them into gaping maws, crunching flesh and bone with relish.
When they took flight again, the city would be reduced to smoldering ruins, thick smoke choking the air, despair echoing in every cry.
And the older the red dragon, the more monstrous its cruelty—more insane, more inhumane.
Adrian had grown numb to their atrocities. His men had died rather than serve in the Ashen Empire, rather than become dragon food.
To him, the Emperor was nothing more than a red dragon—a monstrous predator, no matter how many titles he bore.
Yet now, staring into Xin’s eyes, Adrian saw something he couldn’t explain: pure, unfeigned devotion.
For a moment, he wondered if it was mind control.
But as they stepped outside, a procession of red-robed celebrants approached—wild-eyed, chanting passionate laments.
"His Majesty is the sun above, we are the seeds below. Infinite radiance lights the earth, and we grow strong, like saplings in the sun—!"
"Amanata above," Adrian and Rolf muttered in stunned disbelief.
Xin merely nodded, as if this were the most natural thing in the world. "Followers of the Ember Cult. They revere King Kai Xiusu as a living god. They parade every few days to spread His glory."
Adrian glanced upward. A dragon rider in gleaming armor patrolled the skies along a fixed route.
"By the gods… how do you tame these beasts? How can they carry humans through the sky like gentle stallions?"
"Beasts?" Xin shook his head, his tone suddenly serious. "No. They’re full citizens of the Ashen Empire—each has their own official roster, their own pension. Many are decorated veterans of battle."
He pointed toward a towering structure. "That’s the Red Scales Garrison. All wyverns must unify at the Dragon Takeoff and Landing Platform for departure and arrival."
On the platform, a two-headed dragon flapped its wings with precision, ascending and descending in perfect rhythm—no collisions, no chaos. The movement was as smooth and exact as a masterfully crafted clock.
Nearby, an ogre lounged lazily, megaphone in hand, barking orders with calm authority.
Adrian could only stare, overwhelmed.
Xin waved a hand. "Come on, Lord Adrian. The Emperor’s time is priceless. Make the most of it."
They soon arrived at their destination—the Isdalia Grand Altar.
"We’re here," Xin said. "The sacred coronation site of the Emperor of the Ashen Flame."
Before them rose a colossal stone mountain, or perhaps a pillar—piercing the clouds, stretching into the sky, so vast that even craning your neck to its fullest, you couldn’t see the top.
Around it, several massive wyverns circled, while hundreds of fully armored Tiefling soldiers stood rigid and solemn.
"Amanata above," Adrian and Rolf breathed in unison, instinctively bowing in prayer.
But their invocation of the Sun God was swiftly noticed.
The two-headed dragon roared. The Tiefling guards turned, eyes sharp as blades, long spears rising toward them.
"Who are you? Why are you approaching this sacred site?"
Adrian and Rolf tensed.
Xin, however, smiled nervously and raised his hands. "These men possess an Audience Token—they are personally summoned by His Majesty."
"Token?" The guard reached out.
Adrian calmly drew the engraved token from his chest—its vertical pupil-fire emblem unmistakable. He handed it over.
The guard examined it briefly, then stepped aside. "You may proceed."
Xin’s eyes sparkled with ecstasy. His legs trembled as he prepared to follow—only to be blocked by a line of spears.
"Sorry," the guard said coldly. "You’re not invited."
Xin looked up, face twisted in anguish, waving desperately toward Adrian. "Lord Adrian! Greet His Majesty for me! Tell him—don’t leave me behind! I deserve to stay!"
Watching the young man—laughing, crying, half-mad with longing—Adrian felt not just fear, but something else: a strange, growing anticipation.
Why is he worshiping this Emperor like a god?
He’d only seen such devotion once before—in the aging Emperor Aragon I of Fadalan.
Even if the man was a red dragon, Adrian couldn’t help but want to see him.
"Who knows what kind of presence he’ll have," he murmured, turning to the mage.
"Rolf, let’s go."
"Sir, remain vigilant. Don’t let your guard down. This could be a trap, perfectly laid."
Adrian smiled faintly. "I’m just a fallen noble who lost my domain. What could the Emperor possibly want with me?"
"And besides—we’re in their territory. Worst case? We die. But even that… doesn’t feel so heavy anymore."
With that, his steps lightened.
They ascended the staircase to a hundred meters above ground. From this height, Adrian gazed upon Isdalia in awe—the sprawling, steel-ribbed metropolis, the rivers of people flowing like waves, the endless horizon of industry and fire.
"An extraordinary city," he said, genuinely moved. "A realm unlike any other. Nothing like the legends. No, it’s unlike any city in Feanso."
Rolf warned, "Perhaps it’s just a gilded shell. Beneath the surface, there are skeletons, blood, and secrets buried in the dark."
"Why speculate?" Mandri continued climbing, his pace firming. "When we meet the Emperor, everything will be clear. But I have a feeling… the fate of Seleucus begins right here."
Oddly, as he climbed, Adrian felt a strange, inexplicable connection to the red dragon he had never met.
They reached the summit.
A crushing aura of intimidation pressed down upon them. Adrian slowed instinctively, breath quickening, sweat beading on his brow.
Rolf clutched his staff, shoulders hunched, trembling, barely daring to breathe.
Finally, Adrian summoned courage. He held his breath and lifted his gaze.
Bathed in sunlight, he saw the legendary Emperor of the Ashen Flame.
Perched atop the altar’s peak—a dragon of unimaginable scale.
Adrian was certain this was the largest dragon he’d ever seen. Towering like a mountain.
Even the famed Deep Crimson Embers Kazul would seem tiny beside him—no more than a hatchling.
And it wasn’t just red.
Golden light shimmered across its scales, as if woven from fire and dawn. In the sunlight, its crimson armor gleamed with a soft, radiant halo—like a living shield of light.
Its horns were massive, like a crown forged from stone and flame. Its eyes—pale golden, vertical pupils—burned like molten lava, filled with a fire that seemed to pulse with the weight of the world.
But what truly stunned Adrian was what lay behind the Emperor.
A sun—a real sun—rotated slowly in the sky behind him, radiating boundless light and heat, emitting a light so intense it could be measured in ten-thousand-zhang.
Within that light, Adrian felt a familiar, comforting presence—the power of the Sun God.
His heart stopped.
The reason for that strange connection—now clear.
This was no mere beast. This was Solar Divine Magic, a power even the highest-ranking clerics could not wield.
A wild thought flickered through his mind.
Could this red dragon… be a follower of Amanata too?
The Eternal Lord of Light. The God of Law and the Sun.
Could it be?
(End of Chapter)
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