Ember Dragon
Chapter 605: Scheming and Invitation
Chapter 605: Scheming and Invitation
Walter noticed Crassus’s abnormal state and, after hesitating for a moment, tentatively asked, "Lord Crassus, do you... not wish to make an enemy of him?"
The massive Ancient Gold Dragon remained silent and did not respond, seemingly acquiescing to this point.
As a governor, Crassus also understood everything that had happened in the Prime Material Plane. He knew—if they were to forcefully stop that Red Dragon, the Gold Dragon clan might pay an irreparable and disastrous price, not to mention...
"Sigh."
Crassus let out a long sigh, twirling his slender whiskers with his claws. He then gazed into the distance, his expression solemn as he spoke slowly, "It’s not that I don’t want to help you, but... that Red Dragon’s identity is simply too special.
He’s the only dragon in nearly ten thousand years with the potential to become a Dragon King—enough to shake the future fate of our race. Whether it’s His Majesty Bahamut or the Queen of the Chromatic Dragons, both are trying to win him over."
Crassus’s words were especially sincere and unreserved; there was no need for pretense.
When it came to mortals, Ancient Gold Dragons often acted indifferent, viewing them as nothing but dust—after all, in Crassus’s eyes, their lives passed in the blink of an eye, disappearing in the time it took for a nap.
But toward this noble descendant of the gods, who had once done a favor for the Gold Dragon clan, Crassus unusually showed respect, treating him as an equal.
Walter was not angry. He remained silent for a moment before solemnly saying, "No matter what identity His Majesty Cassius holds, in my eyes, he’s just a brutal Red Dragon trying to seize my land and enslave my people. Whether or not you lend your aid, I will not give up."
Hearing this, Crassus could only shake his head with a bitter smile. He stroked his whiskers, but did not respond to Walter’s words directly—instead, he continued, "That Red Dragon is very smart. He’s still young, yet he wields extraordinary power.
That’s why he hasn’t easily chosen a side. Instead, he cleverly maintains the status quo, standing at the intersection of good and evil, the balance between order and chaos, becoming a part of the delicate equilibrium between the Metallic and Chromatic Dragons.
We discussed this issue with several elders before—Cassius isn’t as evil as the rumors suggest, but he’s certainly no paragon of virtue.
He’s like a willful child, treating himself as a bargaining chip. Any action we take could tip the scales, pushing him into the embrace of the evil dragons—which could cause an even greater catastrophe for the world."
Upon hearing these words, Walter looked up, meeting Crassus’s pale golden vertical pupils and speaking word by word: "Lord Crassus, I once thought... the Gold Dragons would make it their duty to stop any evil committed by the Chromatic Dragons. Now I see—I was a bit naïve."
Faced with Walter’s pointed, nearly sarcastic words, the Ancient Gold Dragon did not become angry. He remained calm, gently tapping the ground with the scepter in his claw.
Instantly, apocalyptic scenes of burning skies and fractured earth appeared before Walter—human cries and screams echoed in his ears.
And in that sky, the spectral image of a five-headed dragon grinned ferociously, its wings blotting out the sun.
"This is..."
Walter was somewhat stunned.
"Walter, you are a hero. You should pledge yourself to His Majesty Bahamut and fight against the impending catastrophe that could affect the entire Material Plane.
My friend, don’t dwell on a war doomed to fail. From that moment three years ago, the Holy Fadlan you serve has already been utterly destroyed."
"No."
Walter gritted his teeth and said heavily.
"As long as I am still in this world, as long as people still remember the past glory, the Holy Fadlan will never be destroyed."
"Wherever the sunlight reaches..."
A hint of hesitation flashed in his eyes, but he shook his head resolutely, gripping his greatsword tightly—veins bulging on the back of his hand. "All of it—is Imperial territory!"
"Lord Crassus, I’m sorry, but I must return to the Material Plane—to North Aether. The future you speak of is far too distant. All I know is that right now, I must still fight for the people of Fadlan."
Crassus sighed helplessly, looking at Walter with an expression that mixed pity and a trace of reverence.
In his eyes, this divine-blooded descendant of Fadlan was loyal and courageous—worthy of respect—but far too obstinate, obsessed with chasing the fleeting illusions of the past.
The colossal Ancient Gold Dragon slowly stood up, spreading his broad golden wings, looking down at Walter from above.
"Walter, your character would satisfy even the most demanding good gods. I have always remembered your kindness to the Gold Dragon clan. Though I cannot support your actions, I will bring your appeal before the Gold Dragon Council and have it listed as pending business. Perhaps some of my kin may yet lend you a hand."
Walter’s face brightened, and he cupped his fists in gratitude. "Thank you, Lord Crassus. Then I will take my leave."
He knew that mobilizing the entire Gold Dragon clan was unrealistic—even bringing in one or two Gold Dragons would be a great help. For Crassus to do this much was already above and beyond.
Crassus simply turned around and softly muttered words only he could hear: "Walter, my friend, I hope... decades from now... you’re still alive."
Northeast of the Fianso Continent, Ugo Great Prairie.
Here, the endless expanse of the grassland is spread with the most unadorned grey-green, where the occasional cold wind sweeps across, making waves in the grass like the rolling sea.
"Awoo——"
A long howl echoed across the sky, mixing with the howling wind and filling the air with endless desolation.
In the distance, the figures of several dire wolves could be seen flickering in and out of view in the wind—these terrifying beasts racing across the grasslands like ghosts.
On the backs of the dire wolves rode orcs clad in animal pelts and armed with short bows and spears—they were the most common light cavalry in the tribe: Dire Wolf Riders.
Just then, a sharp sound came from afar.
"Swish——"
A glowing arrow pierced through the cold wind, crossing hundreds of meters in an instant, heading straight for the dire wolf riders.
"Ah."
With a brief, sharp cry, an orc cavalryman suddenly had a bloody hole appear in his brow and fell stiffly from the wolf’s back, dead in an instant.
Hundreds of meters away, on a hillside, Rhea remained calm, her gaze tranquil, as if the enemy’s death were nothing at all.
The half-elf wore light armor and no helmet—her pale golden hair was simply tied back, looking very capable.
"Seventy-eighth."
She spoke softly, then drew another arrow from her back and once again raised her silver longbow, casually aiming at another distant enemy.
"Swish——"
Once more, a silver flash split the air, precisely piercing the orc’s brow and sending them to Geush’s mud-and-sand country.
"Boss, that’s an elven archer! She seems to be alone—she’s already killed quite a few of our brothers!"
"Damn it!"
"Cowards! You bunch of cowards! A disgrace to the Father! You’re even worse than lowly goblins, to be scared by a single elf—we have over a hundred men, more than enough to chop her into meat paste!"
The orc leader of the cavalry was almost beside himself. He blew a bone whistle to gather his subordinates, preparing to encircle and kill the elf.
At that moment, the same familiar sound rang out. The orc who had just spoken dropped defenselessly from his wolf, rolling several times on the ground.
"Careful! Her arrows are deadly accurate!"
"Follow me! Surround her from different directions! Kill her, and offer her pointed ears as a sacrifice to the Father!"
The orcs worked together skillfully. After the order was given, over thirty wolf riders nearby began to surround from all sides.
"Die, pointy ears!"
"Orcs will take back everything!"
They brandished their spears, roaring furiously and making a deafening racket.
"Heh, you came right to my door..."
Rhea was utterly unafraid. Her face remained cold, with even a trace of mocking smile. She calmly stowed her longbow and drew the silver sword at her waist.
The half-elf’s eyes shone brilliantly. As a Vengeance Paladin, she could see the sins entwining these orc riders—they had once burned, killed, and pillaged, mercilessly destroying a once-peaceful dwarven village for nothing more than some bread.
From the orcs’ point of view, they might be heroes saving their tribe and bringing back precious food so that hungry women and starving children could fill their bellies, but to the half-elf—
Villains. Irredeemable villains.
Rhea’s gaze turned icy. She held her silver sword horizontally before her chest, softly reciting her old oath: "Show no mercy to the wicked!"
"Whoosh——"
In that instant, a flash of silver swept before her. Circular blades of light spread rapidly outward from her, like the rays of the setting sun, as intense as a storm.
Everything in the path of those blades—grass, orc, dire wolf, even dust in the air—was sliced neatly in two.
Instantly, orc blood sprayed through the air, their severed limbs flying everywhere, staining the yellow-green prairie with splattered blood.
"It’s her...it’s definitely her!"
"Run! Run, that pointy ear is Rhea—the Orc Butcher!"
Witnessing the carnage, the orc cavalry leader trembled all over, his hand shaking so violently he nearly dropped his spear.
And at the mention of "Orc Butcher," nearly every orc cavalryman shrieked in terror, turning their wolves and fleeing one after another in the opposite direction.
"Go!"
"Don’t look back!"
"Damn it, what rotten luck, to run into her!"
Over the past months, this half-elf paladin had wandered the Ugo Plains, killing over a thousand orc warriors, making her name feared far and wide.
By force of her silver sword, Rhea had earned the infamous title of "Orc Butcher," forcing the orc chieftain to make an exception: if you meet Rhea, you’re allowed to run.
Rhea sneered coldly, about to give chase when suddenly a mixed roar and rumble sounded from the distant sky.
Hearing this, the orc cavalry leader’s face turned deathly pale. He trembled so hard his mount’s tail curled between its legs and whimpered in fear.
"That’s...the Golden Death God."
The orc spoke the forbidden name with a trembling voice, his face full of disbelief.
It was said that once you heard such a roar, there was no turning back, and your life was as good as over.
In despair, he looked up to see a golden figure appearing in the sky, growing ever larger until it completely overshadowed him.
"Boom!"
The orc leader’s vision was filled with blazing dragonfire. Looking down, he saw his own body beginning to burn and melt—and that was the last thing he ever saw in his life.
Thus, the "Golden Death God" so named by the orcs swept across the prairie, swooping low and incinerating every orc left on the grassland with torrents of dragonfire.
The Ancient Gold Dragon circled in the sky a few times, letting out a mighty roar before landing with a thunderous crash, making the earth tremble.
"Good day, Lord Titus. You’re as powerful as ever."
Rhea sheathed her silver sword and bowed respectfully. Her voice was cold, but not lacking in respect.
The enormous Gold Dragon folded his wings, gazed at the half-elf with pale gold vertical pupils, and nodded slightly. "Good day, Miss Rhea. You’ve certainly made quite a name for yourself on the Ugo Plains lately."
Rhea replied calmly, "Lord Titus, compared to your contributions, what I’ve done is nothing. I’m only doing my best to purge evil. Truthfully, without your help, we might never have dealt with that orc chieftain."
The Gold Dragon walked over with elegant, light steps, smiling as he said, "Rhea, don’t be so distant—we’ve long been comrades in arms."
Rhea smiled and nodded. "I have to say, fighting alongside an Ancient Gold Dragon and having your friendship is truly my honor."
Titus looked off into the distance, asking with a meaningful tone, "Rhea, after the orc problem is settled, where will you go?"
"Of course I’ll return to Serenia. Her Majesty Catherine... is still waiting for me."
"You want to launch a coup, to help the queen reclaim her power?"
Rhea didn’t deny it. She answered honestly, "The Senate’s corrupt rule has lasted too long—it’s long past crumbling. They’re nothing but leeches clinging to the human nobles, sucking the life from the sacred tree. Only the Elven Queen can lead Serenia to a new order, restore elven dignity, and bring us to a brighter future."
Titus turned, looking at the half-elf earnestly. "Rhea, if you need it, I’d be happy to help. This world needs more rulers who walk the path of justice—like Queen Catherine."
Rhea raised her head, speaking solemnly: "Lord Titus, on behalf of Queen Catherine—and the hundreds of thousands of elves in Serenia—I thank you from the bottom of my heart."
"Awoo——"
Just then, a familiar, slightly shrill dragon’s roar sounded from the distance.
Titus looked up to see a slender, somewhat smaller Gold Dragon flying gracefully toward them—it was the young female Gold Dragon of the Eternal Order Realm, Aurora.
She landed, panting, and called out in a slightly anxious voice in Draconic.
"Elder Titus! Elder Titus!"
"The Gold Dragon Council is about to convene. Teacher sent me to notify you—this time, you absolutely cannot miss it."
Seeing the two Gold Dragons discussing clan matters, Rhea tactfully said, "Titus, since you’re busy, I’ll take my leave now. I won’t disturb your conversation."
"Alright."
After the half-elf left, Titus—no, Cassius—looked at the young Gold Dragon flying toward him and said softly, "The Gold Dragon Council..."
A trace of amusement flashed in those pale golden vertical pupils.