At midnight, in the heart of the Empire, Nacho Salaman entered a rundown inn, looking travel-worn and weary.
After exchanging a secret code with the innkeeper, he was led upstairs to a private room.
Standing before the door, Nacho knocked lightly, cleared his throat, and spoke respectfully, “Lord Airlandy, I’ve returned.”
A deep male voice answered from inside, “Come in.”
“Yes, my lord,” Nacho replied.
He pushed open the door, and the innkeeper discreetly closed it behind him before quietly walking away.
Inside, the man referred to as Airlandy sat by a tea table on the balcony, legs crossed, gazing into the heavy night.
A teapot sat on the table, wisps of steam rising from it.
Nacho stood at the entrance, stiff and motionless, knowing that without further instruction from Airlandy, he couldn’t take a single step forward.
After a brief silence, Airlandy spoke slowly, “Bly, Jaggers, Hammy, Felix, Walton, Kayla... And before them, Lavi and Star. Since I handed this task to you, eight Dragon Kings have died. I want to know—why is killing Leon Casmod really so difficult, Nacho?”
Nacho, standing at the doorway, felt his whole body tense, even swallowing his saliva with extreme caution.
Cold sweat trickled down his forehead as he answered after a long pause, “It was an accident, my lord. I personally saw him disappear into the space rift. How could I have known he would come back...”
“I don’t believe in accidents, Nacho.”
The implication was clear: stop feeding me nonsense.
Nacho bit his dry lips and bowed deeply, “Apologies, my lord. It was my carelessness that caused such losses.”
Airlandy scoffed, then changed the subject. “Come sit. I’ve made tea.”
“Yes, my lord.”
Only with Airlandy’s permission did Nacho dare step further into the room, heading toward the balcony.
He took a seat across from Airlandy, though his nerves were still evident.
“You’ve had a long journey. Have some tea to soothe your throat,” Airlandy said, still staring out into the dark.
“Yes, my lord.”
Nacho lifted the teacup with both hands and took a small sip.
The tea had already started to cool, and it wasn’t particularly pleasant.
But Nacho knew that Airlandy hadn’t called him here just to drink tea.
Still, he didn’t dare to ask questions unprompted.
Working closely with powerful people required one crucial skill: do more, ask less.
“How’s the tea?” Airlandy asked.
“It’s very good, my lord.”
“Is that so? This tea is called ‘Red Robe,’ from the eastern continent.”
After a brief pause, Airlandy slowly turned his head to look directly at Nacho. “It was also your father’s favorite tea.”
Hearing the word *father* from Airlandy’s lips made Nacho freeze.
He instinctively tightened his grip on the teacup, but didn’t respond.
Seeing Nacho’s troubled expression, Airlandy continued, “After Victor was executed by Leon, you took on the task of killing Leon yourself. I trusted you with this because I believed in you, letting you oversee and manage Lavi and the others. But the results you’ve given me, Nacho, have been far from satisfactory.”
Gulp—
The bitterness of the tea flooded Nacho’s mouth as he swallowed hard, his heart pounding in his chest.
Nacho understood the underlying message in Airlandy’s words: *You’re done with this job.*
“While it’s true that the Dragon Kings ultimately made their own decisions, you were still involved in the overall planning, correct?” Airlandy asked in a measured tone.
“...Yes, my lord.”
“Hmm, that was part of the deal when we first made our alliance with the Dragon Clan.”
Airlandy sighed. “But losing eight Dragon Kings in such a short time, not to mention Constantine from long ago—Leon Casmod has truly taught both us and the Dragon Clan a harsh lesson.”
“My lord...”
“The Dragon Clan has already recalled Adam to deal with Leon. As for us, it’s time we made some changes too, wouldn’t you agree, Nacho?”
The meaning was crystal clear.
Nacho wasn’t stupid. He immediately stood up, speaking rapidly, “Please, my lord, give me one more chance! I’ll lead the Dragon Kings and kill Leon Casmod!”
“I’ve already given you many chances, Nacho.”
Airlandy remained indifferent to Nacho’s desperate plea. “But the truth is, this task has proven to be far beyond your capabilities. Perhaps...”
Airlandy glanced down at his cup of tea and smiled faintly. “You’ll have to find another way to get your father out of prison.”
“My lord!”
Thud—
This time, Nacho dropped to his knees in front of Airlandy, clutching his pants, pleading in a panic, “Please, my lord, give me one last chance! I swear—”
“That’s enough, Nacho. Accepting an impossible task just to clear your father’s name was a foolish move from the start.”
“My lord! I, I—”
“The tea’s gone cold, Nacho.”
“...”
Airlandy sneered, shaking off Nacho’s grip. He stood up and strode toward the door.
He didn’t pause, nor did he offer Nacho another chance to prove his loyalty.
Loyalty?
Hah, loyalty was the last thing the Empire lacked.
Airlandy held countless people in the palm of his hand, and Nacho Salaman was just one of many.
Click—
The door lock clicked open and shut. The sound of Airlandy’s shoes on the wooden floor faded into the distance.
Nacho remained on his knees as the cold midnight breeze blew in from the balcony, creeping into his collar and enveloping him in a chilling embrace.
He turned his gaze toward the tea on the table.
“Tea’s gone cold, Nacho.”
Airlandy’s parting words echoed in his ears.
Powerlessness and despair surged through him.
In that moment, Nacho realized that in the face of absolute power, truth could be twisted, and justice had no clear lines.
Such power had once been within Nacho’s reach, but in the end, it had slipped through his fingers like grains of sand.
He didn’t hate that unkillable bastard Leon. No, he hated himself for not seeing through the absurdity of the world sooner.
With trembling hands, Nacho picked up the cup and downed the cold tea.
Then, he stood up and left the inn, walking alone under the moonlight, through the midnight streets of the Empire.
His silhouette was haggard and frail, like a discarded puppet.
...
After leaving the inn, Airlandy returned to the royal palace by carriage.
His servant, Scott, approached him with a report.
“My lord, we’ve successfully retrieved the Heartguard Dragon Scales from Bly and the other Dragon Kings.”
“Hmm.”
“And my lord, there’s been progress on the ‘Project’ in the Far North. Would you like to see it?”
At this, Airlandy raised an eyebrow.
It seemed tonight wasn’t all bad news after all.
“Lead the way,” Airlandy said.
“Please, follow me, my lord.”
The two made their way to an underground chamber within the royal palace.
The room was filled with numerous Demon Suppression Stones.
At the center of these stones floated a glowing, white mass of energy.
It hovered quietly, shining with a crystalline, milky-white glow.
Airlandy’s eyes gleamed. “Is this the *Primordial Force* you excavated from the Far North?”
“Yes, my lord,” Scott confirmed. “After Lavi’s death, without his spatial magic, the Dragon Clan halted their operations in the Far North. But we still managed to obtain part of the prize—what you see now.”
Airlandy stared at the pulsating white energy. Even though he wasn’t trained in magic, he could feel the power emanating from it.
It was wild, eager for a vessel that could perfectly contain it.
No wonder so many Demon Suppression Stones were needed to subdue it.
“Well done, Scott,” Airlandy praised.
Scott bowed. “Thank you, my lord.”
“Don’t celebrate just yet. Now that we’ve found the Primordial Force, have you found its vessel?”
“We have a few candidates in mind. But the ones I’m most confident in are these three brothers.”
Scott handed over a list.
Airlandy barely glanced at it. “This is your task. Just show me the results.”
“Yes, my lord.”
“With this, the *Spearhead* project will soon be complete,” Airlandy said with a touch of satisfaction.
Scott’s eyes darted, and he echoed, “Indeed, my lord. Once it’s done, our cooperation with the Dragon Clan will deepen even further.”
Airlandy cast a sidelong glance at Scott. “The Spearhead Project was originally designed to strengthen our ties with the Dragon Clan, but that idiot Nacho still hasn’t dealt with Leon Casmod. So... we’ll have to shift the project’s focus.”
“You mean... using the Spearhead Project against Leon?” Scott asked.
“Exactly. No matter how strong Leon Casmod is, he cannot defeat the Dragon Clan’s Primordial Force.”
Airlandy gazed at the glowing mass of energy, brimming with confidence.
“You are truly wise, my lord,” Scott flattered at just the right moment.
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“By the way, is this Primordial Force from the Dragon God, Tiamat?” Airlandy
asked.
“No, my lord. The Dragon Clan still hasn’t located Tiamat’s resting place.”
Scott explained further, “However, the portion of the Primordial Force we acquired comes from Tiamat’s first successor, a Dragon King who is regarded as the *First King* in Dragon Clan mythology.”
Airlandy raised an eyebrow, surprised. “Oh? That’s quite a pedigree.”
“Yes, my lord. Although this Primordial Force is only a small fraction of his power, it is still immeasurably strong.”
“The First King is a legendary figure in Dragon Clan history. His presence is woven throughout their myths, and he played a vital role in the Dragon Clan’s development. Even today, his name is still sung in reverence.”
Scott also stared at the restless Primordial Force.
“His name is... the Primordial Dragon King, Noah.”