The Ember Dragon Chapter 836: Rebellion and Standoff - Novel Cool

Chapter 836: Rebellion and Standoff

"Marshal, Fourth Legion has just reported—progress is going smoothly. Kafar City has been conquered."

"I didn’t send them for conquest. I sent them for reconnaissance."

At the former residence of Duke Shalin—now the Imperial Expeditionary Force’s headquarters—Dragonblood Goblin Marshal Dolo paused mid-writing, looking up with mild surprise.

The messenger chuckled nervously and added: "The Dragon Worship Church no longer has any organized military forces. When Fourth Legion arrived, the cultists were gathered for a ritual. They took the opportunity to eradicate them all."

"Truly impressive," Dolo mused. "No wonder His Majesty’s Bloodline Cultivation produces warriors of such caliber."

The messenger continued: "Fourth Legion is currently maintaining order in the city. They’re demanding immediate reinforcements from headquarters, plus an overtime compensation package. They claim they’ve exceeded their quest objectives."

Dolo’s expression instantly darkened. "Ridiculous. They’re defying command! With frontline military funding already stretched thin, hundreds of thousands of troops are bivouacked in Seleucus, consuming massive resources every second—resources that belong to His Majesty! And now they’re asking for pay?"

"How should we respond?"

"Tell them to shove it," Dolo snapped, waving a dismissive hand. He returned to his documents, irritation simmering beneath the surface.

By now, the Allied Forces controlled most of the Seleucus region. Yet the Empire held absolute control over the Allied Forces. But the situation on the ground was far more complex than anyone had anticipated.

The native nobility of Seleucus—the so-called “Second Fadalan Front,” led by Duke Adrian—had been quietly attempting to reclaim authority, seeking to restore the old Kingdom of Seleucus. But with rifles firmly in the Empire’s hands, they dared not openly rebel. Instead, they worked in secret, rallying citizens to their cause, whispering promises of restoration.

Meanwhile, the leadership of the Dragon Worship Church had long been entrenched. Many local power brokers had formed corrupt alliances with the Church, engaging in systemic benefit-sharing. Beneath the surface, pockets of Tiamat-worshippers still lingered, waiting in the shadows. The Empire would need a thorough, top-down purge to root them out.

And then there was the matter of the Faria Clan’s submission. As the largest Blue Dragon clan in the Taliro Desert, many of their members bore deep-seated hatred toward the Seleucus-aligned forces in the Allied coalition—enough to fuel a sea of blood.

After the Battle of the Locke Rift, the demand for punishment against the participating Blue Dragons grew louder and louder. Protests erupted, and some even held power displays—marching through the streets demanding the execution of every Blue Dragon who had fought in the war.

But House Faria was the first true dragon lineage to submit to the Empire. Symbolically, it was vital. Their bloodline held unparalleled research value. The Imperial Elite would never allow them to be punished too harshly.

For days, Dolo had been caught between the two sides—mediating, defusing tensions, trying to smooth over the fractures. As King Kai Xiusu once put it, “muddling through the mess.” It was exhausting. For a warrior who thrived on massacre, it was pure agony.

“If His Majesty hadn’t ordered us to maintain stability in Seleucus until the Red Dragon Sect was crushed, I’d have had these meddling locals executed by artillery long ago!” Dolo growled, crumpling a document into a ball and tearing it apart with furious hands.

Just then, a staff officer burst into the room, breathless.

"Marshal! Another incident at the square!"

"What now?" Dolo snapped, tossing the shredded paper aside, his voice edged with impatience.

The officer swallowed hard. "The old Seleucus nobles—they’re demanding the Empire execute twenty-three Blue Dragons linked to the Dragon Church, and hand over control of the city to them."

"Insolence!" Dolo roared, slamming his fist onto the desk—splintering the wood. He shot to his feet, teeth clenched. "Who gave them the nerve? If it weren’t for His Majesty’s orders, I’d have hanged them all without trial! Not even a shred of dignity as puppets!"

"And your command, sir?"

"Come. Let’s see where they get their gall from."

Dolo strode out with purpose, kicking open the front door, his fury burning hot as he marched toward the Council Chamber.

---

In Shalin’s Council Chamber, the air was thick with tension.

Seleucus noble officers, clad in armor and wielding silver swords, stood in formation before the city square. Their voices rang out like war drums—sharp, defiant, charged with outrage.

"Seleucus belongs to the people of Seleucus!"

"Return power! Kill the evil dragons!"

"The Blue Dragons must pay for their crimes! This cannot be swept under the rug! This is blood—our blood!"

The citizens had gathered too, their emotions raw. They raised their arms high, screaming in unison:

"Revenge! Revenge! Let the evil dragons pay!"

Adrian, the commander of the Seleucus faction within the Allied Forces, stood among them. Unlike the others, he did not shout. He stood with hand on his sword, his face etched with quiet anxiety.

This was rebellion against the Empire—dangerous, explosive. But as a survivor of the dragon raids, he too believed the brutal Blue Dragons deserved justice. The control of Tower Liro cities should return to the Seleucus people.

Suddenly, a wave of commotion erupted from the distance.

"Look! It’s Marshal Dolo!"

"The Great Goblin—Empire’s supreme commander is here!"

Amid a guard of half-dragons and Dragonblood Goblins, Dolo approached slowly. His steps were heavy, each one sending a faint tremor through the ground. Standing nearly five meters tall, his muscular frame radiating raw power, he exuded an oppressive presence that made even the bravest men hesitate.

The crowd fell silent. Voices died in their throats. Even the most defiant nobles swallowed hard, their knees trembling. No one dared meet his gaze.

Dolo scanned the assembly, his mouth stretching into a wide grin—sharp fangs glinting in the sunlight. It was a smile he thought was kind, but to the onlookers, it was pure terror.

"What brings you all together here?" he asked, his voice calm, almost gentle. "Is there something you’d like to discuss—my dearest allies of Seleucus?"

The tone was deceptively soft, but the aura of intimidation was crushing. The Seleucus people felt the same dread they once felt before dragons descended from the sky—panic, despair.

The loudest nobles now stood frozen, eyes downcast, terrified of catching his gaze.

Only Adrian stepped forward, composed, unflinching.

"Good morning, Marshal Dolo. We simply wish to address two pressing matters: the administrative authority over Tower Liro, and the judgment of the Blue Dragons who have already surrendered."

Dolo dropped the act. His expression hardened.

"These matters can be discussed in the Council Hall. No need to gather like this, wasting Allied Forces’ resources. The war is not over. The Red Dragon Sect still holds power in the south. Are you so eager to divide the spoils already?"

He paused, then added: "We Empire have always upheld a democratic system. Your voices will be heard—fairly and with consideration."

A thin, middle-aged man—pale, wiry, wearing silver-rimmed glasses—stepped forward. He summoned courage to speak.

"Marshal Dolo, your so-called Council Hall is nothing but a farce! We’ve submitted dozens of petitions, proposals—none have been answered. You haven’t even shown up in person! By Amanata, you treat our pleas like trash!"

Dolo’s inner thoughts were far less polite. “Those documents aren’t even scrap paper. If His Majesty were here, he’d say they’re too coarse to wipe your ass with.”

But outwardly, Dolo bowed slightly, his voice as smooth as silk.

"Of course not. King Kai Xiusu has always taught us to treat our allies with freedom, equality, and mutual benefit. Your Kingdom of Seleucus is a vital part of the Allied Forces—indeed, the backbone of this war. How could we possibly ignore you?"

A false smile spread across the fearsome face of the Dragonblood Goblin. The sight sent chills down the spines of the onlookers. The cold, hollow expression felt far worse than his grim visage had.

The scholar nearly collapsed. Only a friend’s quick grab kept him upright—his face ashen, eyes wide with terror.

"You—you won’t scare us!" he stammered, voice trembling.

"Pathetic human," Dolo thought, grinding his teeth. But he forced himself to remain calm. "Gentlemen, let us retire to the Council Hall. No need to waste time here."

"Very well," Adrian nodded slightly. In his eyes, any concession from the Empire was a victory.

Though he trembled at the might of the Empire and its Emperor, Adrian refused to become a puppet. He still clung to the last hope that the Seleucus people might retain some autonomy.

Under the escort of Imperial troops, both sides entered the Council Hall—the former mansion of the city’s governor, spacious enough to seat hundreds.

Seleucus officers lined one side. Imperial officers the other. Dolo sat at the head, arms folded, face stern, radiating an aura of absolute authority.

After debate, a noble from Tower Liro—Viscount Halid Qwik—rose.

"Marshal Dolo, there’s no need for the Empire to govern our regions. Seleucus belongs to its people. We have the responsibility—and the ability—to manage our own affairs. No need for you to bear the burden of expense."

A half-dragon officer from the Empire snorted.

"Responsibility? I’d call it greed. You old Fadalan nobles are all cut from the same cloth."

It was George—the same man who had once been a common soldier, now a baron and major general. A living legend among the troops, he was a true heavyweight in the army.

Halid froze, stunned. He opened his mouth to speak—only for George to cut him off.

"We are still at war. The Red Dragon Sect in the south remains a threat, ready to reclaim the north at any moment. Can you truly investigate the Church’s spies across the region? Can you coordinate armies for defense?"

Halid faltered. He had no answer.

George pressed on, merciless:

"Since you can’t, then stay silent. It was the Empire that reclaimed this land for you—returned you exiles to your homes. And now, before the war even ends, you want to divide the spoils? How utterly ridiculous! Let me tell you—without you, the Empire could still win this war. And win it cleaner. We only tolerate you because of His Majesty’s mercy."

"Enough," Dolo snapped, slamming his hand on the table. His voice was stern. "George, how dare you speak to our Seleucus allies like that? They are an indispensable force in the Allied Forces!"

The two Imperial officers—white and red face—had effectively silenced the nobles. Faces flushed, mouths open, but no words came.

Silence stretched.

Then another noble stood.

"Marshal Dolo, we have one more demand: the execution of the Dragon Church’s evil dragons. We must avenge our fallen comrades!"

"Exactly! During the Church’s rule, those monsters slaughtered countless Seleucus people. This cannot be ignored!"

"And why should we trust them? Blue Dragons are all fanatics of Tiamat! They could attack us at any moment—endanger the war effort!"

The nobles erupted in fury, their voices rising in anger and grief.

"They’re enemies!"

"Skin them! Turn their scales into armor. Decapitate them. Hang their heads in the square—proclaim our victory over the Dragon Church!"

Just then, a clear, cold voice cut through the chamber—sharp with hostility.

"Hmph. And what have you done for the Allied Forces?"

All eyes turned to the source.

There, stepping through the doorway, was a young woman in an opulent heavy gown. Her cheeks bore faint scales. Her eyes—vertical, deep blue like a serpent’s—locked onto the room.

It was Christina Faria—the young Blue Dragon who had taken human form, the one who had personally brokered the Faria Family’s surrender.

Halid shot to his feet instantly. His eyes burned with fury. He drew his silver sword, pointing it at her.

"Filthy evil dragon! Offspring of Tiamat! How dare you appear here now? We will never forget the suffering you brought us! One day—blood for blood!"

As a noble of Tower Liro, Halid hated the Faria family with every fiber of his being. In the days of the Blue Dragon Sect’s rule, a full-grown Blue Dragon had struck down his father with lightning—reduced him to charcoal.

Now, seeing one of them—standing before him, unafraid—was like two enemies meeting, hatred flaring to life.

(End of Chapter)

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