Chapter 785: The Alliances of Danger
Adrian raised his longsword high, the blade resonating with the rising Red Sun in the sky, emitting a radiant glow that shimmered across the heavens. He roared, voice thunderous:
"Everyone—do you see it? The Eternal Lord of Light, the Great Sun God, has not abandoned us!"
"We, the people of Seleucus—no, the people of Fadalan—will never bow to the brutal evil dragon! For the Sun!"
"For the Sun!"
The soldiers following Adrian were the first to lift their weapons, arms raised in fervent cheers. Then, like a tidal wave, the cry surged outward—Duke Franz’s personal guard, the garrison of Green Valley Town, even the villagers who still worshipped the Sun God joined in, their armor clashing, their voices a cacophony of defiance.
In the end, even the arriving Players, swept up by the emotion, began shouting along with the native inhabitants—though their chants were a chaotic mix of “For the Dragon Maiden!” and other nonsense.
But once the cheers died down, the newly teleported army of tens of thousands plunged into chaos.
"This Green Dragon was my kill! Its heart is mine!"
"Whoever seizes it gets it!"
"Watch out—someone’s using Invisibility to steal gear! I can smell them!"
"Shared spoils, shared spoils—how can that be stealing?"
"Brothers, attack! Break this guy into pieces! Let him learn not to steal again!"
They descended on the battlefield like vultures, plundering corpses—friend or foe, it didn’t matter—ripping gear from the dead, even fighting among themselves. The fighting nearly spilled into the village, threatening the innocent.
Around the fallen dragon corpses and the valuable loot, elite Guild Players began clashing in organized warfare—bullets flying, cannonballs detonating in bursts of explosive force, shaking the ground with thunderous booms.
This was the Kingdom of Seleucus—no imperial law to restrain them. Players could unleash their fury freely, indulging in raw, unbridled PvP.
And even now, as the battle raged, more Players continued to teleport in via the Rune Array. After all, the Kingdom of Seleucus was a rare new map—a tantalizing frontier for explorers driven by curiosity.
Adrian stared at the escalating chaos, a bitter irony twisting in his chest. Moments ago, they’d stood side by side as allies. Now, they were tearing each other apart—over mere spoils of war.
"This is too strange," he muttered, shaking his head.
Suddenly, two Players clashed in a violent explosion. One wore a flowing robe of arcane power; the other, heavy kinetic armor.
"You magic coin bastards seized the Ancient Dragon! Now you come here to fight us? Greedy pigs!"
"It was our kill!" The mage raised his staff, summoning a massive fireball that erupted into the air. In response, the mechanical warrior’s back split open, revealing a rocket launcher. Four fiery arrows shot forth, trailing thick smoke, streaking toward the mage.
Boom! Boom!
Boom!
Flames erupted in all directions. Shattered rock blasted outward, scattering across dozens of meters—some even struck distant villagers, who shrieked in panic.
"Madness! Utter madness!" Duke Franz bellowed, raising his colossal greatsword like a door-sized shield. He blocked the debris mid-air, then slashed upward—sending a storm of wind and force spiraling into the sky, tearing open the distant explosion with a deafening roar.
He turned to Adrian, voice grave:
"We can’t let this continue. If these Northern homefolk keep rampaging, Green Valley Town will fall into utter ruin. Not only will the Dragon Worship Cult exploit the chaos, but innocent lives will be lost!"
"Who’s their leader? Who can actually control these people?"
Adrian hesitated, then replied awkwardly:
"Perhaps… the Emperor of the Ashen Flame?"
At that moment, a deafening, terrifying roar echoed from the sky—so powerful it silenced every sound on the battlefield.
All eyes turned upward. From the portal above the stone stele stepped a tall, striking young woman, her crimson hair flowing like fire. Behind her loomed the phantom image of a Red Dragon as vast as a mountain, its head raised, jaws agape in a blood-filled maw—the source of the roar.
Her status was unmistakable: Misha, Imperial Duke, Master of the Tower of Conflagration, and the Empire’s first Dragon Oath Mage.
"Such an overwhelming aura of intimidation," Duke Franz murmured, his expression darkening. "The pressure she exerts… it rivals that of an Ancient Green Dragon. Perhaps even more terrifying."
Even as a seasoned warrior, the sight of this young sorceress filled Duke Franz with the same dread he’d feel facing an ancient dragon.
But Adrian exhaled in relief. He turned to the Duke, voice steady:
"She’s Misha Duke—she’s loyal to the Emperor. Just days ago, she intervened and saved me. She even granted me an audience with the Emperor himself. Though she looks young, her status within the Empire is undeniable. She can surely bring order to this chaos."
Duke Franz narrowed his eyes, voice low:
"I know. She carries that bloodline—she’s like a Red Dragon wrapped in human skin. In the Dragon Sovereignty Earth’s kingdoms, such a status… it can’t be low."
Under countless gazes—some filled with fear, others with disbelief—Misha looked down upon the crowd. From her sleeve, she drew a carved token, its surface etched with intricate runes. Her voice rang cold and clear:
"Edict of the Ember Empire, issued in person—equivalent to the Emperor’s own arrival."
"Any Player who attacks another, or commits fratricide, shall lose 15,000 Faction Contribution points—and be fined 500 Golden Nael."
"Any Guild that breaks this rule will lose 8,000 Guild Level Points and be fined 1,000 Golden Nael."
In an instant, the battlefield fell silent. The chaos, the bloodshed, the fury—vanished.
Players who had just been tearing each other apart now stood side by side, smiling like brothers. Guilds that had been warring minutes ago now worked together to clean the battlefield, their actions peaceful, even cordial.
No one wanted to carry the burden of a massive debt from a single quest. Guilds feared losing their rank, their privileges, their hard-earned advantages.
Adrian and Duke Franz stared, stunned. Speechless.
Had this intense conflict really ended with just a few words?
The players—just moments ago locked in mortal combat—now acted like law-abiding citizens. Was this possible?
Or was Misha Duke’s status in the Empire far greater than they’d imagined?
But then came the next scene—so absurd it left them utterly speechless.
Hundreds of Players dropped to their knees, worshipping.
"Great Misha! Punish me! Whip me! Dragon Maiden is the best!"
One Player knelt on one knee, pulling a ring from nowhere.
"Wife, marry me!"
Another collapsed face-first into the dirt, babbling incoherently—only two words clear:
"Mother!"
Even the other Players could only stare in disbelief, struggling to suppress laughter. After a long pause, one finally muttered:
"...That’s just how the Waxed disciple behaves."
Adrian stroked his chin, thoughtful.
"Is this how people in the Empire show reverence?"
Misha suppressed the urge to incinerate them all on the spot. Slowly, she descended from the sky, landing before Adrian and Duke Franz.
"Another meeting, Baron Adrian. It seems our collaboration has been… pleasant."
Adrian nodded in greeting. "Thank you for intervening, Misha Duke. You saved me from danger before."
Misha’s voice was icy. "You should thank the Empire. Thank King Kai Xiusu. Without the Empire’s relief forces, Green Valley Town would already be ruins."
Duke Franz stepped forward, voice sharp:
"Even without these madmen, the people of Seleucus would have driven the evil dragon and its followers out of Green Valley Town. Out of Fadalan’s territory!"
He emphasized the last words—deliberate, forceful.
Misha didn’t flinch. She simply scoffed, then turned to Adrian, provoking:
"And who is this?"
Adrian, sensing the air thickening with ember sparks, quickly stepped between them. "This is Duke Franz—General of the Kingdom of Seleucus, and a hero in the fight against the Dragon Worship Church."
Misha sneered. "A general driven back to the border by the Dragon Worship Church? A hero? Utterly ridiculous."
"You—" Duke Franz’s eyes flared with rage.
But Misha remained calm. "With only a few thousand men, you think you can stand against a Green Dragon Legion? A foolish fantasy. If not for the Empire’s relief forces, Green Valley Town would have been dust. And yet, instead of gratitude, you harbor hostility. Who gives you the arrogance? Your irregular militia?"
In truth, history had played out exactly this way. Duke Franz had led his personal guard in a suicidal stand, dying with the Ancient Green Dragon—Green Valley Town’s fall became known as "Seleucus’s Final Lament."
Misha gave another cold laugh. "Franz, in the face of overwhelming strength, even the strongest willpower is meaningless. Only the Empire possesses the power—and the authority—to help you. You must accept that."
Duke Franz knew it, too. The Kingdom of Seleucus had been corrupted to its core by the Dragon Worship Church. They desperately needed outside aid—any aid, even from the Ashen Flame Empire.
But after the horrors of the dragon disaster, he bore an unrelenting hatred toward dragons and Dragonborn. He could not trust these blood-drunk, greedy homefolk to help without ulterior motives.
Adrian stepped forward, urging:
"Lord Duke, the situation in Seleucus is dire. The Dragon Worship Church still ravages our lands. For the sake of the greater good—"
"The greater good." Franz sighed, finally lowering his hostility. He gave reluctant agreement—temporary, but agreement nonetheless.
Misha remained aloof, her golden vertical pupils radiating disdain.
"I know you all harbor prejudice against Dragonborn. But what does it matter? Thank the merciful and great King Kai Xiusu. If not for my Master’s personal command, I would never have come to aid you—hypocritical, repulsive human nobles."
To Misha, most human nobles were like the Northern Nobles—greedy, foolish, prideful. They deserved nothing less than physical annihilation by the Emperor of the Ashen Flame.
Adrian shifted uncomfortably, forcing a smile. "Enough of this. Let’s focus on our next steps—our collaboration."
Misha gave a curt nod. Duke Franz grunted in reply.
Adrian unrolled a map, pointing to red circles scattered across it.
"The Dragon Worship Church controls most of Seleucus. Though they’ve been defeated this time, they won’t give up. They’ll launch a far more intense siege against us rebels."
Duke Franz stroked his beard, voice firm:
"We can garrison the southern canyon, using it as a defense line to repel their advance and hold Green Valley Town."
Adrian shook his head. "Passive defense only gives them the advantage. If we stay on the defensive, their power will only grow—more dragons, more beasts, more chaos."
Misha spoke sharply:
"My Master—the Supreme King Kai Xiusu once said: Attack is the best defense. The Empire’s Stellarfallers can handle the offensive mission—launching indiscriminate strikes against any town conquered by the Dragon Worship Church."
Adrian shook his head again. "No. That would scatter our strength. Their cultists and dragon beasts outnumber us by far."
Duke Franz studied the map, then pointed decisively at a city marked in red, south of Green Valley Town.
"Then we concentrate our full strength on Linying City. We must seize it at all costs."
"Why?" Misha asked, eyes narrowing.
Duke Franz spoke with absolute certainty:
"It’s the northern strategic stronghold—the confluence of rivers, the source of the Ashen Marsh… and the largest dragon breeding ground within a hundred miles. If we conquer it, we’ll ease the entire northern situation—slow the breeding of their dragon beasts, and even disrupt the Mother of Monsters’ rituals."
Adrian hesitated. "But… if we attack Linying City, the Lord of the Putrid Marsh will surely throw everything at us. The entire northern Green Dragon legion will rise."
Duke Franz glanced at him. "That’s exactly what we need. It’ll relieve pressure on other fronts, giving our allies time to breathe."
Misha’s golden eyes gleamed with confidence. "Then we attack Linying City. Under the Empire’s strength, no city stands a chance. And His Majesty has declared: If we face an enemy we cannot overcome, he will personally intervene—and destroy them."
At those words, Adrian and Duke Franz felt a chill. They didn’t want the Emperor of the Ashen Flame—Lord of Thunder and Flame, Dragon of Cataclysm, Legendary being whose form filled the sky like a mountain—descending into Seleucus, even as an ally.
For such a being, even as an ally, would bring only destruction.
After all…
He was the Emperor of the Ashen Flame.
The one who could shatter mountains with a glance, split the earth with a step, summon molten lava tsunamis with a breath.
A terrifying entity beyond mortal comprehension.
(End of Chapter)
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