Magma Dragon's Heir

46th of Season of Fire, Year 1196 AL

“I can’t believe you ate my secret realm,” Magmin said, sounding way too offended.

“Why? I’m not apologizing, if that’s what you want,” Newt said. “Your past self asked that I don’t consume him on my way out, which I didn’t. He has no way of remembering what had happened, and nobody else would entertain his wish. Not to mention he couldn’t and didn’t feel a thing, since he didn’t exist while nobody was in his realm.”

“But you consumed the realm!”

“I did,” Newt admitted. “But only after I left. And like I said, I’m not apologizing.”

He had drawn the twin stars into his realm, where they dissolved and disintegrated, pushing Newt forward two layers, which, while not life-changing, wasn’t all that shabby considering he was at the tenth realm.

“What was I supposed to do? Do you really think I should’ve left such a natural treasure lying around?” Newt asked.

“I was the rightful owner. You could’ve offered it to me,” Magmin grumbled, still flying south towards Soaring Freedom.

“And what would you have done with it? We’ve already concluded that regular mana is toxic to you for some reason. Otherwise, we could’ve gone hunting for mana beasts, gathered some cores, and you would’ve had your real body by now.”

“I didn’t say I would have accepted your offer, but you didn’t even consider it.”

Magmin flew, sulking like a child, and Newt shook his head.

Perhaps we should have flown deeper into the Eternal Light Empire? Just to see the situation with our own eyes. Our scouts have been bringing worse and worse reports with each passing decade.

Newt sighed. It didn’t matter much. The population of Soaring Freedom was already in the millions, and over the twelve centuries of its existence, many promising youths had come into prominence, some already reaching the eighth realm.

It was an odd contrast - how a grand society of billions had withered after the positive elements had left it, and how those positive elements flourished after leaving the toxic environment.

While there’s less than two billion of them remaining, they should survive another thousand years, until I fully expand and sculpt my realm. Then, a decade or five to locate and gather all nearby saurian exalts in one place, and after that, we will be ready to liberate them.

It wasn’t the best of plans, but it guaranteed safety and reduced the needless loss of life. As selfish as it sounded, Newt cared more about his still-living friends and acquaintances than some distant strangers, most of whom were distant descendants of the ones enslaving and sacrificing them in the first place.

But Newt wasn’t alone, and his choice wasn’t just his own. There was an entire group whose job was to make that decision. So, as soon as he arrived at Soaring Freedom, he called for a session of the council of exalts.

Eighteen out of twenty-one arrived, with Sunset Shadow and the two new exalts busy working on their realms.

“I have called this meeting because we need to reach a decision regarding the Eternal Light Empire. As you can probably tell, I have reached the tenth realm, and we have several options on how to deal with them. The first one, and the one I’m personally against, is that we march on the empire that probably has way more exalts and overall greater power than us, relying on me, Shimmer, and Magmin to fight them.”

Newt looked at everyone gathered. “I estimate a high number of casualties in this case, and based on the heads shaking, I’m guessing we can disregard this foolhardy approach. The second one is for me to head into the wealds right away, spend half a century or so uniting saurians under our banner and then we move against the empire.”

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Nobody shook their head at that suggestion, meaning it was at least worth considering.

“Another approach is waiting a century or two for me to consolidate my power, and only go in search of allies then, but otherwise, the plan is the same as the previous one. And finally, we can wait anywhere between nine and eleven centuries for me to reach the peak of the tenth realm and possibly see whether an eleventh one exists before we set things in motion.”

Despite having a clear favorite, Newt didn’t say which one he preferred, as he wanted to hear what the other exalts thought.

The Grand Scholar and Patriarch Swordpeak kept silent, letting the rest state their own opinions.

“The empire has evolved in the last two hundred years or so,” Gatemaster Greenthorn took the lead once nobody spoke for a whole second. “The cultists and the imperials have overcome their differences and once more stand united. They have culled the non-awakened population to the minimal number they needed, and they seem to be sacrificing all awakened not extraordinary enough to keep alive. Much like us, they have grown in power while reducing their population to concentrate resources on the best. This is especially true since the four cults once more came into the light.”

Not to mention the two strongest sides have stopped killing and bleeding each other out.

“Are they growing faster than we are?” Newt asked, and everyone nodded. Apparently that was something the council had previously established, and one of those things he couldn’t be bothered with.

“How alarming is their growth? Can we fight them right now?”

Nobody answered until Patriarch Swordpeak made a so-so gesture. “Without you and the dragons, they would crush us immediately. With you and the dragons, I don’t know, but whichever side survived would do so after suffering devastating losses. If you recruit all saurian exalts, of which we estimate there are two to ten thousand, we could crush them without suffering a single casualty, but just uniting them would be a centuries-long project, and keeping them in line and coordinating them might take thousands of years. It’s not impossible, but very unlikely. Our best and most reasonable course of action would be to unite a hundred or two hundred of them over one decade, then take the empire by storm. There would be casualties, yes, but they shouldn’t be too horrible.”’

Everyone around the table nodded. The weaker exalts had stern faces, but the rest were much more relaxed.

Newt crunched the numbers; he could, under the most perfect of circumstances, subjugate a hundred exalt saurians over the course of three to four years, two hundred would take seven or eight. A hundred saurian exalts could ensure mutual destruction fighting one hundred emperor-level figures, but in reality there were around twenty of those, thirty if he took into account imperials like the Grand Scholar, who remained hidden from the public eye. The cults also had around twenty peak exalts, around the same level as Patriarch Swordpeak and the Grand Scholar.

That leaves forty-five saurians; each would take two to three mediocre exalts to fight to mutual destruction. Let’s be pessimistic and say they can wipe out ninety exalts.

Around twenty-five to thirty exalts came from royal families, another six from ducal houses, and eighty from various orders, assuming they all remained and submitted to imperial rule.

All things considered, we’re fairly even, when you don’t take me into account.

“And when do you think we should start?” Newt asked Patriarch Swordpeak after processing all that information in the space of time non-awakened needed to blink.

“The echoes of the celestial alignment of extreme flame will repeat over the next five years. I suggest we see where we stand after your baptisms, as that will give us better insight into the situation.” He looked around the table. “Unless anyone else has something to add, I would suggest not making a move until then.”

The majority nodded, but Newt felt uneasy. He wanted to at least ensure their forces were tied with the other side before he dared relax. And he wasn’t the only one.

“I don’t see a problem with Newstar conquering saurian lands straight away,” the Grand Scholar said. “My nature is cowardly. As such, I preach caution and contingencies upon contingencies, plans within plans. Should the imperial forces attack us tomorrow, we need to be as prepared as possible.”

Newt nodded, as did the majority of those present in the room, and Newt learned the pointlessness of politics. Most of the people present on the council were empty heads meant for nodding or wearing nervous faces.

“I agree with you, Lord Scholar,” Newt said. “My wife is in seclusion after reaching the ninth realm, and will remain in it for several years, so I might as well leave right away.”

Newt’s deepest sense of unease came from Obi. Publicly saying they had time to spare and that they should take things slow was just the kind of thing the kidney stone would have said with a straight face, unaware of the kind of calamity he was calling forth.

Newt could only hope he acted quickly enough.