Chapter 173: The Dragon Empire (2)
The shockwaves of Adonis’s declaration did not stop at the borders of the Western Continent. Like a stone cast into a still pond, the news of the Dragon Emperor’s rise rippled across the Great Oceans, reaching the frozen peaks of the North, the shifting sands of the South, and the ancient, soaring forests of the East.
The recording crystals had done their work too well. The image of the violet-eyed King, standing before a Cthulhu-like horror and a Goddess of Darkness, was now the only topic of conversation in every tavern, barracks, and palace in the world.
In the Fernis Kingdom, located in the lush Central Continent, the atmosphere was full of tension that felt like a physical weight.
King Magnus sat atop his high throne, his fingers drumming a frantic, uneven rhythm on the gilded armrest. The reports on his desk were not just dire, they were impossible.
"A Demon Emperor?" Magnus muttered, his voice cracking with a mixture of disbelief and growing terror.
"He summoned a First Calamity entity as a mere vanguard? How? By the gods, how?"
His Grand Advisor, a withered man with eyes full of ancient worry, bowed low.
"The reports are verified, Your Majesty. King Adonis has integrated a system of power we do not understand. He calls it Chaos. And he is moving faster than any army in history. He isn’t marching; he is blinking across the map using rift technology."
Magnus stood up, his regal robes fluttering as he began to pace the dais. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw the face of Mariana, the daughter he had stripped of her title and banished like common trash. He had thrown her away for the crime of loving a man he deemed insignificant. He had called Adonis a nameless pebble in the path of the Fernis legacy.
Magnus hissed, slamming his fist into a stone pillar:
"I should have killed him when he was a mere brat crawling at the feet of the Kingsbane family, I should have sent an assassin to slit his throat. Now... if he conquers the West, he will turn his eyes toward us. He will come for revenge for what I did to his wife."
"Your Majesty," the Advisor whispered, "perhaps we could send an envoy? A letter of reconciliation to Queen Mariana?"
"Reconciliation?" Magnus laughed bitterly, a sound of pure hysteria. "Did you see his face in the crystal? That is not a man who accepts apologies. That is a man who erases bloodlines. If he comes here, Fernis will not just fall. It will be forgotten."
While Magnus spiraled into regret, the epicenter of the shock was felt most acutely in a place far less grand: the ancestral estate of the Kingsbane Family.
This was the house where Adonis had once been nothing more than a shadow in the hallways, the "illegitimate bastard" whose existence was a stain on the family’s prestigious name.
The main courtyard was in a state of absolute uproar. Knights who once mocked Adonis were now polishing their armor with trembling hands, and cousins who had tripped him in the dirt now spoke his name in hushed, terrified whispers.
"The Dragon Emperor," Luthor gasped, clutching a copy of the news scroll. "Our Adonis? The one who used to clean the stables when the servants were busy? He’s the one who just annihilated the Ten-Kingdom Coalition?"
"Shut your mouth!" an elder barked, though his own legs were shaking. "If he hears we are claiming kinship, he might decide to come home and settle old debts. Do you remember what we did to his mother’s quarters after she passed? Do you think he forgot all of that?"
The family council was a mess of shouting and finger-pointing. Some argued for a desperate flight to the neutral territories, while others suggested they should prepare a grand welcoming ceremony to beg for his mercy.
"We can’t flee!" Duchess Clementine shrieked. "Where would we go? That bastard killed my son! How can I forget that? Besides, there is nowhere on this continent that his Reapers cannot reach!"
Deep within the quietest wing of the manor, far from the shouting and the panic, sat Duke Leonel Kingsbane. The head of the house sat hunched in a high-backed chair, his eyes fixed on a cold fireplace. He looked much older than he had a few months ago. His frame was thin, and his eyes held a blankness that suggested he was watching a world only he could see.
The door creaked open, and a servant hurried in, placing a fresh crystal on the table.
"Lord Duke... the news. It is confirmed. Your son... Adonis... he has taken the Western border. They are now calling him the Dragon Emperor."
Leonel didn’t move for a long time. The servant waited, expecting a roar of anger or perhaps a denial of the boy’s blood. Instead, Leonel’s hand reached out, his fingers trembling as they touched the glowing surface of the crystal.
The image of Adonis, majestic and terrifying, reflected in his dull pupils.
All of a sudden, a single hot tear escaped Leonel’s eye, tracing a path through the dust on his cheek.
"So you finally did it," Leonel whispered, his voice a ghost of its former authority. "You climbed higher than any Kingsbane in a thousand years. You didn’t just break the shackles... you burned the whole prison down."
"Lord Duke?" the servant asked, confused by the lack of fear.
Leonel closed his eyes, a small, sad smile touching his lips. "He used to have his mother’s eyes when he was small. Yet I never noticed."
He leaned back with an exhausted sigh. "Stay safe, Son. The world is a hungry beast, but I see now... you are the one who will teach it how to bleed. And forgive me if you can."
Back at the western continent, early morning, the Pandemonium’s orders spread through every Kingdom like tide of death.
Dragons, Undeads, Beasts, Vampires, Knights; all attacked the neighbouring kingdoms with ruthless ferocity.