Chapter 376: Coronation (Part Two)
On the morning of March 1st, Third Era 1786, the coronation ceremony was held as scheduled.
The newly built Isthalia venue could accommodate hundreds of thousands of people, allowing spectators to observe the ceremony from different locations. However, the main roads and the central altar of the venue were guarded by Tiefling soldiers, and no unauthorized personnel were allowed entry.
On the night before the ceremony, the area was already bustling with noise and excitement.
Over a hundred thousand people, carrying dry food, water, and even makeshift bedding, poured in from all over Anzeta and even other parts of the Feanso Continent. They arrived early to secure good spots around Isthalia and slept on the ground overnight.
Among them were curious Kingdom citizens, merchants from the South, bards, and even spies posing as harpists.
Naturally, the players didn't want to miss such a "major event," carrying their folding stools as they rushed overnight to the venue. Almost all players, except for those sentenced to forced labor for siding with the Northern Kingdom, came to Isthalia to witness this rare spectacle.
Additionally, summoned monster vassals, allocated positions by the Kingdom's officials, occupied part of the inner area.
Envoys from across the Feanso Continent arrived, exchanging greetings and presenting congratulatory gifts before being assigned to various sections of the venue.
The attendees included envoys not only from the three major kingdoms—Kassander, Thrace, and Seleucia—but also from special factions like the Tower of Time, Corrupted Marsh, and Star-Moon Hills.
Humans, Elves, Dwarves, Dragonborn, Halflings—
Representatives of various races gathered in the venue, making it lively and noisy.
"Awooo—"
Soon, dragon roars echoed in succession.
The Faria family sent their Blue Dragon Christina once again, accompanied by the venerable elder Blue Dragon, Isami.
Even the Melward family sent a special envoy—Kruzray Melward, a mature Silver Dragon and Olivia's uncle.
"Why is there a silver-scaled mongrel? Is that old fool still defiant?"
"Blue Dragons, that war is over! We're here for peace among dragons!"
"Peace? Hypocrites like you have no right to speak of peace!"
The Blue Dragons and Silver Dragons immediately sensed each other's presence and tension filled the venue. It wasn't until Langpu personally arrived, unleashing a pervasive and invisible dragon aura, that they ceased their conflict, though they continued to glare at each other with hostility.
Similar incidents occurred frequently. Due to the Ember Kingdom's growing importance, both evil and good-aligned factions paid it significant attention.
"Honored guests, please remain calm."
"This is His Majesty Cassius's coronation ceremony, and he would not want any mistakes to occur."
Standing before the altar, Langpu bowed slightly. Thanks to magic, his voice carried across the entire venue.
The once-empty venue was now packed with people.
Dragonline vassals, envoys from various nations, and curious onlookers had all taken their seats. Creatures from different factions, races, and alignments gathered, awaiting the start of the coronation ceremony.
On the desolate wasteland where there had been little movement, a sudden gale swept through, drawing everyone's attention.
"Look quickly!"
"What's that? Wyverns!"
"Gods above, how are there so many of them?"
Over a thousand Wyverns took to the sky from all directions of the venue, flying densely together and letting out chaotic roars.
Their wings flapped closely together, creating a massive shadow over the plains, like a dark, circular cloud encircling the entire venue.
Under Cassius's domain influence, these Wyverns had become astonishingly fertile, proliferating rapidly over a decade to reach a four-digit population.
——To meet the immense food demand, four factories produced feed while half of the Storm Highlands was converted into a grazing ground for primal oxen.
For this grand coronation ceremony, the Wyverns, dwelling deep in the Wyvern Valley, emerged in full force to showcase their menacing presence to the world.
"Wyverns?"
"A Wyvern army of this scale…"
The Thrace Kingdom's envoy, Dayev Marshall, gazed at the dark shapes in the sky, adjusting his silver-framed glasses with a deeply worried expression.
Wyverns alone were not a significant threat to Thrace; their Arcane Corps could easily shoot them down.
But over a thousand Wyverns were an entirely different matter.
Moreover, even this thousand-strong Wyvern army was merely the visible part of the Ember Kingdom's power. The truly terrifying aspect lay behind it—the Kingdom's unmatched supply chain and military mobilization capabilities.
"Is this a warning to us?"
"Or an olive branch to our enemies?"
Dayev clenched his fists and lowered his head slightly, his expression growing increasingly grave.
Before he could shake off his thoughts, thunderous booms erupted across the plains, shaking the very ground.
"Boom! Boom! Boom!"
Salvoes of ceremonial cannons echoed, filling the sky with bursts of fiery brilliance.
In the distance, a series of explosions occurred as heavy artillery fire blasted apart a hill obstructing the city's planned route, leveling the ground entirely.
The Ogre Artillery Corps arrived from afar, dragging massive cannons and heaving breaths as they moved, their wheels grinding loudly against the roads.
Finally, the ogres stationed their cannons around the venue, standing silently in place.
Spectators exclaimed in awe, though they were not entirely shocked. The people of Anzeta had grown accustomed to artillery barrages after numerous conflicts.
For southern nations unaccustomed to magical wastelands like Anzeta, such grandiose displays of long-range firepower were remarkable but not alien. They marveled at the sheer destructive capability—and the Ember Kingdom's lavish use of ammunition.
They had no idea these were specially designed engineering shells from the Ember Kingdom's Tech Department, created explicitly for leveling terrain.
Next, the Satyr Military Band performed a symphony filled with grandeur and vigor.
The melody was a blend of classic compositions recommended by players and Northern musical traditions, with magical undertones that resonated deeply, leaving listeners awestruck.
As the music reached a crescendo, accompanied by crisp drumbeats, a phalanx of infantry composed of tens of thousands of humanoid soldiers—Humans, Tieflings, Hobgoblins, and more—marched from the end of the road.
Their synchronized steps and orderly formations gleamed with the cold light of bayonets and spears.
"The Ember Infantry!"
"How magnificent!"
Eventually, the massive phalanx halted outside the venue. From their ranks, several elite units of about a thousand soldiers each entered the venue, forming walls along the wide roads.
Is this the end?
No, it wasn't.
"Boom—Boom—"
With heavy rumbling sounds, the ground trembled once again.
On the distant horizon, enormous land-dragons clad in thick armor appeared, each as large as a small mountain, occupying half the terrain.
Goblin cavalrymen stood atop the land-dragons, raising spears and massive hammers, letting out fervent battle cries—even Dolo stood on the largest land-dragon, covered in golden scales, raising his bloodfire battle axe with one arm.
The blood-stained axe blade glinted brilliantly under the sunlight.
"For the grand blueprint of the Red Dragon!"
"For the King of Embers!"
Some shouted fervently.
Witnessing the mottled torrent of power, bards and merchants from across Feanso, as well as envoys and spies from major factions, for the first time directly felt the immense strength of the Ember Kingdom's military.
Envoys from opposing factions, however, had grim expressions.
Dayev, the envoy from the Thrace Kingdom, seemed shrouded in a dark cloud.
"How is this possible?"
"According to our spies' reports, this nation was established just ten years ago."
"Could it be that they obtained relics from an ancient empire? Or even assistance from a powerful deity?"
He muttered incredulously, a terrifying thought forming in his mind—having once served in the Holy Fadlan Empire, Dayev couldn't imagine how a newly formed empire could possess such a powerful military and logistical system without external help.
"Ah, Her Majesty Tiamat truly chose well. This newborn empire will become a crucial force for the revival of chromatic dragons."
The elder Blue Dragon Isami was visibly moved. The deep azure scales on his cheeks spread apart, and his fringed ears trembled.
"And all the wealth of this nation will belong to the queen in the future."
Christina was already immersed in dreams of becoming the Empire's queen, determined to achieve it, her eyes filled with greed.
"Such a nation, such an army…"
"Sigh, I only hope they won't bring another catastrophe to the continent."
The Silver Dragon Kruzray let out a deep sigh.
Envoys from other factions wore various expressions but were universally shocked by the Ember Kingdom's military might. It shattered all their prior assumptions.
They had believed the Ember Kingdom to be a barbaric, primitive tribal nation—irrational monster vassals relying on the Red Dragon's power, wantonly oppressing Anzeta's people in this remote, desolate land.
Yet, after witnessing this "military parade" of an opening ceremony, they were dumbfounded to realize—
They were wrong, utterly and completely wrong.
This was indeed a young, vibrant empire. Different races and factions united under the dragon's rule, coalescing into a formidable power.
It possessed a strong army, vast territories, diverse races, and an unmatched, supreme ruler.
"Roar—"
A thunderous roar made eardrums swell, and a powerful oppressive force caused everyone to tremble.
To the north of Isthalia, the blue sky suddenly turned crimson as a colossal Red Dragon appeared on the horizon, slowly flapping its massive wings, bringing gusts of scorching winds.
It seemed as though the entire wasteland had grown hotter, with even the air distorting and boiling.
"He… he's here!"
"It's His Majesty Cassius!"
"This is His Majesty's majestic form!"
"For the King of Embers! No, for the Emperor of Embers!"
After an instinctive moment of fear and awe, people quickly began cheering loudly, creating waves of thunderous applause—whether it was genuine or feigned.
"I want to lick Cassius's feet!"
"Don't stop me, I want to touch his tail!"
"A dragon!"
"You perverted dragon fanatics, keep it down! But when will Lord Cassius transform into his humanoid form? Hehe…"
The players, as usual, were utterly unrestrained. Even with the guards glaring at them, they continued to shout outrageous slogans.
"Oh my gods! Such a massive body, no wonder he defeated Silverwing!"
"Gods above…"
"He's grown even stronger!"
"As expected of my destined mate, Lord Cassius…"
Envoys from all factions let out exclamations of astonishment. Dragons of this caliber were rare even across the entire Feanso Continent, let alone being witnessed in person.
Over months of passive absorption of his ancestral dragon bloodline, Cassius's size had increased further—his body now measured a terrifying 36 meters in length.
This was a size that only ancient Red Dragons could barely reach, completely surpassing the limits of ordinary Red Dragons. Yet Cassius was still in the early stages of his growth.
Deep within the crowd, in an inconspicuous corner, a gaunt, weathered man looked to the sky, his face etched with despair.
"He's grown stronger."
"Abil… how can I save you?"
This man was Richard, a once-dashing elven ranger and a double agent for the Ember Kingdom. This time, he had been dispatched by the Harpist Alliance to investigate the coronation ceremony.
"Whoosh—Whoosh—"
The scorching winds howled past, leaving many feeling the heat against their skin.
Cassius continued to flap his wings, slowly approaching Isthalia before finally landing with a thunderous crash at the entrance to the pathway.
The previously noisy venue fell silent under the near-tangible pressure, the atmosphere turning utterly still.
Guards lining the road immediately stood tall, gazes straight ahead, though the sweat dripping from their chins betrayed their tension and excitement.
"Roar…"
The Red Dragon let out a low growl, folding its wings tightly against its body.
He landed on all fours, striding slowly along the broad path toward the altar, leaving deep footprints in the ground.
From his elevated vantage point, Cassius scanned the crowd with his pale golden eyes, gazing at faces filled with excitement, fear, or dread.
"Thrace, Kassander…
"Syrinia, Silvermoon City, Free Trade Federation…"
"Nearly all the major forces of the Feanso Continent are here. Quite the turnout."
The corners of Cassius's mouth curled slightly, and a faint, imperceptible smile appeared on his fearsome draconic face as he mused to himself.