Defeating the World with the Power of One Dragon!

"The kingdom should hold a grand feast."

After finishing the serious matters, Iron Dragon Gordon lightly placed his front claws on the ground and suggested, "To celebrate the Emperor's great victory and triumphant return."

"You fought a brilliant battle; everyone should have a chance to let out a few good roars."

Garoth glanced at him and nodded slightly. "Agreed."

Aola's soldiers needed a reason to raise their cups in revelry, and so did the citizens of the city.

A grand victory celebration would turn the Emperor's triumph into their own pride.

Gordon didn't linger. He turned, spread his wings, and dove off the high platform, quickly fading into the distance.

The high platform fell silent once more.

The red-iron dragon crouched down, his gaze sweeping over his domain.

His eyes first moved upward, pausing for a moment on Halden's Sky City, then shifted westward, landing on the lands ruled by the Lord of Thunder.

There was no doubt about it.

His current thorn in the side was Lamorein, the Lord of Thunder, who had already thrown in his lot with the Chromatic Queen.

"Should I let him snuff out the flames of resistance in the west one by one, let his fighting spirit peak after clearing his rear, and then have him attack me? Or should I take the initiative and go after him myself?"

Garoth pondered within his mind.

He was not one to act on impulse.

Under normal circumstances, Garoth would never rush to eliminate a single hidden threat.

Time was always on his side.

With his rate of growth, the longer he delayed, the deeper his foundations, the greater his advantage. Dragging things out was always more beneficial to him.

But the situation was a bit different now.

On one hand, Lamorein had the backing of the Chromatic Queen.

A deity's existence was a variable that couldn't be measured by common sense.

When and how her will would directly intervene were unknowns. Playing it safe and dragging things out was fine, but if he could eliminate this threat early, that was also a good option.

On the other hand—

The more practical factor was that his Ember-Annihilating Form was very well-suited for fighting a Storm Dragon.

"A Blue Dragon's fighting style covers both ranged and close combat, but overall, it leans more towards a magic-based approach. The Storm Dragon, as the ultimate expression of the Blue Dragon bloodline, is no exception."

Information about the Lord of Thunder and the Storm Dragon

flashed through Garoth's mind one after another.

Reinhardt had fought Lamorein before. Based on that information, it was safe to judge that the Lord of Thunder's fighting style did lean more towards magic.

He was also adept at close combat.

But when a Storm Dragon fought up close, it relied mainly on elemental enchantments and various energy effects to stack up damage, not pure claw-and-fang tearing.

"My Ember-Annihilating Form has drastically reduced physical resistance, but its magic resistance is almost maxed out. Against an enemy like Lamorein, that's a perfect counter."

"It should increase my win rate by at least ten percent."

The red-iron dragon's eyes showed a contemplative gleam as he weighed the pros and cons in his mind.

This mutated Ember-Annihilating body hadn't been around long, but after going through the previous war, he had already mastered it quite proficiently.

And it hadn't been corrected by his own adaptive evolution yet, so it was at its purest peak state.

If he went to war with the Storm Dragon now, he could practically ignore those energy attacks, or even swallow them as fuel, making himself stronger the longer he fought.

He stood there, letting the high-altitude wind blow over his scales.

Time passed, and seven days came and went.

The capital city hadn't been this lively in a long time.

The city gates had been thrown wide open since early morning.

Citizens of all races hauled barrels of ale up from the depths of their cellars. Instead of rolling them on the ground, they hoisted them onto their burly shoulders and walked with heavy steps along the cobblestone streets, showing off their muscles and strength as they went.

In the square, long tables were set up one after another.

Grease from roasting whole oxen dripped into the charcoal below, each drop sizzling and licking up an orange-yellow tongue of flame.

The aroma of meat spread through the streets in every direction.

It snaked into the deepest alleys, luring out the normally lazy cats and dogs. They paced around anxiously, occasionally looking up and barking a few times, hoping for a scrap.

At noon, the feast officially began.

The main hall of the Dragon Court was also piled high with food.

Whole roasted golden ferocious beasts, giant elephant ribs marinated in spices and slow-roasted over a fire, deep-sea giant fish transported from the coast, and barrels of fine wine were all laid out in rows.

Musicians in a corner of the hall played a lively tune.

Dancers stretched their graceful yet powerful forms, weaving and spinning through the music.

Garoth crouched on the main throne.

His dark scales gleamed with a subdued luster in the candlelight, his tail coiled in front of him.

In front of him lay a huge plate, which, besides meat, held shiny gems and metal ingots, arranged by color and texture like a small mine. Beside his claw, a large goblet was filled with high-concentration black oil.

This was how he always ate; the attendants and followers had long since stopped being surprised.

Below him, the important members of Aola Kingdom were seated in order.

Gordon occupied the stone seat on the left, the closest to Garoth.

Although the banquet had only just begun, this Iron Dragon had already devoured his third roast ox and was now dragging a fourth onto his plate.

He tore the beef apart with his claws, crushing the bones along with the meat and swallowing them.

As he ate, the Iron Dragon's scales slightly flared open in satisfaction, revealing the lighter-colored membrane underneath. His eyes were filled with bliss and contentment.

This scene made Garoth start to wonder—

Was the Iron Dragon's real reason for suggesting the feast maybe not to celebrate his victory, but because he himself wanted to gorge and indulge in a hearty binge?

Still, he could see all the hard work Gordon had put in over the years.

It was understandable.

Beside the Iron Dragon was a mass of flame.

Its color transitioned from blazing white to orange-red towards the edges, finally shaping into the outline of a slender, humanoid torso and limbs.

The Fire Spirit Princess of Lothrian, and also Gordon's mate.

She sat quietly beside the Iron Dragon, her fiery red lips lightly touching the rim of a goblet. What filled it was not strong wine, but a cluster of deep blue magical flames. The flames swayed slightly in the cup, casting dancing light across her face as if she were pondering something.

Garoth's gaze shifted away from the Iron Dragon and landed on this quiet flame.

"Princess Elina, how does it feel to transform from a human body into a fire elemental lifeform?"

The red-iron dragon asked.

This princess was one of the few humans who had personally witnessed his journey from a Young Dragon to the Master of Atlantis. Or rather, she used to be human.

From her time in the Lothrian royal family to now, sitting at the banquet of Aola's court.

So much had happened in between.

The light on Elina's face flickered for a moment. She looked up at the great dragon.

"Better than ever before."

"A human body has so many things that need tending to."

"Sleep, eating, injury, aging... every single one is an obstacle that can't be bypassed. You spend a huge amount of time fighting against your own physical form, leaving precious little time for the things that truly matter."

She gave a faint smile. "Not anymore."

"This body doesn't get tired, doesn't age. As long as my flame doesn't go out, I can exist forever, and I can spend every day on the things I want to do."

Garoth said, "An elemental body, theoretically, possesses an even longer lifespan than a dragon's."

The Fire Spirit Princess nodded gently. "A long life means I can dedicate myself to things that require investments measured in centuries. For example, the Art of Immortality left by our ancestor, the Holy King."

Garoth knew about her research into the Holy King's Art of Immortality.

The Iron Dragon had mentioned it in a report.

Now, the Holy Spirit created by the Lothrian Holy King was a member of Aola's Sanctuary. But in essence, it was completely different from a Heroic Spirit. As long as the city of Lothrian was not destroyed, the Holy Spirit would not die, and would grow stronger as Lothrian itself expanded.

This was the creation of his Art of Immortality.

But this technique had a major flaw. The Holy King hadn't solved the key problem.

Elina's research was aimed at filling those gaps.

Garoth lifted his large goblet with his claw, took a drink, and said, "Aola will support your research. If you need anything, just ask Gordon."

The flame flickered, forming the outline of a smile on her face.

Elina lowered her head slightly and said, "I will. Also, I will need the support of Lady Aphra. There are a few issues with spell structures where her insights could be a huge help."

On the other side, the Crown of Magic, Aphra, who had been sitting quietly, looked up. She first glanced at the red-iron dragon on the main throne.

Garoth gave her a silent nod of permission before she turned to the Fire Spirit.

"Princess Elina, I would be very happy to research the Art of Immortality with you."

"How about we start talking now?"

Elina nodded.

The two of them huddled together, soon deeply immersed in their discussion, automatically filtering out the surrounding noise.

The red-iron dragon stuffed a handful of gems into his mouth and crunched them up. As he chewed, he let his gaze sweep over the rest of the hall.

Gluttonous Ogre Karu was crouching in a more distant spot.

He was completely focused, his eyes fixed on the mountain of food piled in front of him. His eating speed was astonishing. A plate of meat, bones and all, would vanish into his massive mouth in the blink of an eye, and he didn't even notice the Dragon Lord's gaze on him.

Elvy and Russell sat on the other side.

Sensing the Dragon Lord's gaze moving towards them, they both turned their heads simultaneously, slightly lowering them in a gesture of respect.

On another side, Reinhardt, wearing a light blue formal suit with a silver brooch pinned to his collar, was leaning sideways, conversing with another humanoid guest beside him.

"In Nausil, poets used to describe me, saying I was as brave as a dragon."

The elf raised his glass and lightly clinked it with Reinhardt's. "In the past, I gladly accepted that, thinking it was a compliment. Now, I just want them to find a different metaphor."

He was clad in silver-white light armor, with intricate patterns on his shoulder guards and bracers.

His long, pale gold hair was tied back in a ponytail, with pointed ears peeking out from the strands, slightly upturned. His clinking gesture was bold yet graceful, the wine in the cup swaying but not a single drop spilling.

The Solar Grand Knight, Thalamond.

He had brought all the previously promised bounty from Nausil and came personally to Aola Kingdom, arriving just in time for this feast.

Reinhardt chuckled. "Grand Knight, I admire your honesty."

The elf took a sip of his wine, his gaze resting on the human Mandate. "Reinhardt, the adventurer from Atlantis. I had heard of you back in Arotala."

"But honestly, I was a bit surprised when I heard the news that you had become a dragon's follower."

"Why are you willing to submit to the Red Emperor?"

As soon as the words left his mouth, he realized his question seemed a bit offensive in such a setting.

He put down his glass and added, "Forgive me. I can never resist my own curiosity. This question has been tormenting me in Nausil for a long time."

Reinhardt wasn't offended.

He gave a faint smile and placed his glass on the edge of the table.

"Aside from our Red Emperor of Aola, who else can treat all races equally, allowing them to coexist harmoniously and thrive? Who can bring peace and prosperity to Atlantis?"

He asked in return.

No matter how the outside world viewed Aola, the fact was that the kingdoms under Aola might have harbored other intentions when they were first forced to submit, but now, they had nothing left but loyalty.

"Who would have thought it?"

Thalamond nodded, sighing with emotion. "Now, the most peaceful region in the entire Bernardo is actually under a dragon's rule. If you said that outside, few people in the other Material Planes would believe it."

Midway through the banquet, the musicians switched to a more soothing tune.

The elf nodded in acknowledgment to Reinhardt, then turned and walked through the passage between the banquet tables, heading towards the main throne.

The gazes in the hall gathered on him.

Garoth was enjoying the food in front of him.

Sensing the elf's approach, his jaw paused for a moment, then he continued chewing, crushing and swallowing the metal blocks in his mouth. He lowered his eyes, looking at the newcomer.

"Your Majesty Ignas, the venerable Scarlet Emperor Cangxing."

The elf stopped, his voice clear. "Please allow me, on behalf of Nausil, to once again extend to you our highest respect."

"On the South Foothill Plain, your flames burned through the orc positions, blazing fiercely for justice and order, as brilliant as the scorching sun."

Garoth nodded slightly.

The elf unclasped a small pouch from his belt.

"Besides the meteorite already delivered, this is the empire's additional token of gratitude."

He opened the pouch, revealing a silver badge inlaid with gold patterns. It was exquisitely crafted, engraved with a full moon.

"The Full Moon Medal is one of the highest honors ever bestowed since the founding of the Nausil Empire."

"Before this, only elves had ever received it."

Thalamond's voice was solemn. "And now, it belongs to a true dragon."

"You have earned the friendship of Nausil, and with this medal, as long as it does not violate the empire's core principles, the empire will unconditionally provide you with one instance of support, including support from an Immortal."

A dragon-blooded attendant stepped forward, accepted the badge with both hands, turned, and presented it before the Emperor.

Garoth used the tip of his claw to lift the badge and looked down at it.

The badge looked incredibly tiny in the grip of a dragon's talon, like a grain of sand. He flipped it over, looking at the inscription on the back. A string of ancient elvish script, an oath of some kind.

"Nausil is generous."

He said, "I will cherish this friendship."

But deep down, he didn't really value this badge.

So-called friendship and support were, in the end, just promises.

If Aola and Nausil ever ended up on opposite sides, this thing would just be a pretty piece of metal, worthless.

And even now, its practical use was very limited.

The war between Nausil and Kantum was still ongoing. While they were advancing step by step, they were also being consumed step by step. How could they really spare the power to support him?

Forget about an Immortal.

They might not even be able to send a Mandate-level reinforcement.

"Your Majesty."

The elf straightened his posture, shifting his tone. "The remnants of the orcs are still regrouping south of the Redridge Mountains. Two Saints still live, and a large number of Legendary-level combatants are gathering."

"Therefore, Nausil hopes to entrust you once again, to continue fighting for the empire."

"The empire is willing to offer more incentives."

"Territory, resources, treasured ancient knowledge... as long as we have it, everything is negotiable."

Garoth looked at the elven Grand Knight and shook his head slightly.

"The price of killing a deity's incarnation is much heavier than you see."

The red-iron dragon said unhurriedly. "I did stand until the end, but the internal damage to my body is far beyond what the outside world can imagine. I need to rest, and it's not appropriate for me to engage in fierce wars anymore."

Thalamond stood quietly in place, listening.

The breath the dragon exhaled was scorching and vigorous. Each exhale was like a wave of hot air sweeping through the hall, as powerful as an active volcano.

The words just spoken were clearly just an excuse to refuse.

But he didn't call it out.

"I understand."

The elf gave a slight bow. "When Your Majesty's injuries have healed, you can contact me anytime through this rune. The empire's commission will not expire."

He took a small runestone from the inside of his vambrace and handed it to the dragon-blooded attendant at his side.

Then, Thalamond performed a farewell salute.

"The empire's war continues. I am bound by my military orders and cannot stay long. Thank you for Aola's generous hospitality. The warmth of this feast will burn long in my memory."

Garoth nodded, not trying to keep him. "I hope Nausil can achieve final victory."

"I appreciate your kind words."

After saying this, the elf stepped back a few paces, then turned.

As he walked through the hall, he passed by Reinhardt and extended his hand for a brief shake with the human. Reaching the doorway, Thalamond's body flickered, and in the blink of an eye, he was gone.

The atmosphere wasn't broken by this small interlude for long; it quickly returned to its previous liveliness.

The music in the hall continued, and the dancers reformed their lines, shifting to another tune.

Garoth lowered his gaze, looking at the spatial crystals placed before him.

A total of three meteorites were individually sealed within three spatial crystals, neatly arranged in front of him.

This meant three chances, each with a probability of directly mutating into an even more powerful form than the current one. Of course, there was also the probability of getting a failed form, making the loss outweigh the gain.

The great dragon's claws picked up one of the spatial crystals, slowly turning it over in his grasp.

"Fight Lamorein immediately, relying on the counter of my Ember-Annihilating Form? Or gamble on a more powerful form through mutation? Or wait until my life level rises a bit more?"

These choices tugged back and forth in his mind.

Garoth had always preferred the safe path, but this time, there were too many uncertain factors. Time was not entirely his friend.