[The First Day of Destruction, 3:00 PM]
To the east of the Slane Theocracy lies the Draconic Kingdom, a nation founded long ago by a True Dragon Lord.
In the royal audience chamber, the current monarch, Queen Draudillon Oriculus—the "Black Scale Dragon Lord," born of the blood of a True Dragon Lord and a human—sat in audience with an envoy from the Argland Council State.
Lined up on either side of the carpet were the Prime Minister and the court officials. Standing prominent among them was the leader of "Crystal Tear," the Draconic Kingdom's sole Adamantite-ranked adventurer team: "Fierce Flash." Cerabrate.
[AN]* Cerabrate has the title of "Fierce Flash." he is a member of the "Holy Knight" class, and he is famous for using the Shining Sword technique. He is a top-class swordsman whose skills are comparable to Gazef Stronoff, Brain Unglaus, and Remedios Custodio. Maruyama revealed that despite his strength, his swordsmanship skills are actually inferior to Gazef's. *
*Being a lolicon, Cerabrate feels sexual desire towards Draudillon, but she dislikes the situation. But as Crystal Tear is necessary to protect her kingdom from the onslaught of the Beastmen, she keeps her form as a young girl whenever she meets with him…
Seated upon the massive throne, Draudillon looked undeniably tiny. She bore the appearance of a prepubescent girl, her voice carrying the high, sweet pitch of childhood.
Currently, the existential crisis wrought by the Beastman invasion had been significantly alleviated, thanks solely to the powerful undead—Death Knights—rented from the Sorcerous Kingdom. Driving the invaders back was no longer a pipe dream; it was an approaching reality.
From a pragmatic standpoint, maintaining this childlike guise to evoke the protective instincts of her subjects—and to pander to deviants like Cerabrate—seemed increasingly unnecessary. However, the Death Knights were merely on loan. They were not the Queen's true power.
The Kingdom lacked the funds to pay for such high-tier undead. Instead, payment was made by granting the Sorcerer King "free usage rights" to a portion of their territory. It seemed likely the undead would settle there permanently, but compared to the alternative—having her citizenry devoured by Beastmen—this was a trivial price. Furthermore, the Sorcerer King had generously stipulated that the contract would only be finalized once the crisis was fully quelled.
One could say the Draconic Kingdom was finally getting back on track.
—Until today, when the envoy from the Council State brought earth-shattering news.
The ministers stood in dumbfounded silence. Cerabrate swallowed nervously, his Adam's apple bobbing. Draudillon herself nearly forgot how to speak.
"You... say that again. My great-grandfather... he is returning?"
"That is correct."
The envoy was a single man, a gloomy individual with the weathered look of a veteran. Though dressed in formal diplomatic attire, he made no attempt to conceal an aura of arrogant superiority.
His name was Eisen Rael.
"Your Majesty's great-grandfather, the Brightness Dragon Lord, maintains friendly relations with the Platinum Dragon Lord, whom I serve," Eisen stated flatly. "It was the Platinum Dragon Lord who instructed me to convey the news of his impending return."
"I see..."
Draudillon clenched her small fist beneath her oversized sleeves.
Fury boiled within her. She was furious at her great-grandfather. If he intended to return, why had he not done so sooner? Why had he not descended like a god from the heavens and wiped out the invading Beastmen with a single breath?
If it were the Brightness Dragon Lord, the Beastman armies could have been annihilated in mere moments.
"I apologize, Your Majesty, but your reign as Queen is coming to an end. The Brightness Dragon Lord is expected to arrive in approximately one month."
"I know... I do not covet this throne."
"That is good. Ah, forgive me, I may have been rude. This is my first time serving as a diplomat. In the past, I was merely a warrior who fought for the Dragon Lord's interests."
"Ah, is that so?" Draudillon replied with a tired, strained smile. "You are unilaterally announcing facts to me rather than negotiating, which is indeed rude. Furthermore, the fact that I must learn of my own family's movements through the Council State... is profoundly irritating."
"They are both members of the world's strongest race, after all."
"If you claim such kinship, why has the Council State stood idly by while my country faced annihilation? Though we are distant, and I did not formally request aid..."
"You are mistaken," Eisen interrupted, shaking his head dismissively. "If the Beastmen truly planned to destroy the Draconic Kingdom, the Platinum Dragon Lord would have intervened."
Draudillon's cheek twitched. The ministers who understood the implication wore expressions of utter distaste.
"Are you implying that our country's suffering was not severe enough to warrant the Platinum Dragon Lord's help?"
"Precisely."
"Hah... you admit it without even a veil of diplomacy."
"There is another important matter," Eisen continued, ignoring her outrage. "It seems Your Majesty has borrowed numerous undead from the Sorcerous Kingdom to resist the invasion. Is this correct?"
"It is. Hmph, your intelligence network is impressive."
"Our country has excellent ears; the Dragon Lord's gaze reaches everywhere. To the point: The Platinum Dragon Lord regrets this alliance. Those filthy undead must be eliminated before the Brightness Dragon Lord arrives."
"Understood. I will return them to the Sorcerous Kingdom immediately. Although breaking the contract will be difficult diplomatically..."
"Ah, there is no need for that."
"What?"
"The Sorcerer King seems to place great confidence in his Death Knights, hence this rental business. Hmph... Let him lose the Death Knights he rented to the Draconic Kingdom. Let them be destroyed."
"Hah?!"
Draudillon nearly jumped off her throne.
The court was sent into a panic; the Minister of Military Affairs wiped cold sweat from his brow, while Cerabrate frowned deeply, his hand drifting to his sword hilt.
"What?! Losing... you mean destroying them? Ah! My great-grandfather or your Dragon Lords could certainly achieve that, but how... how can such a thing be permitted! This is tantamount to declaring war on the Sorcerer King!"
"Hmph, please calm down, Your Majesty."
"Do not tell me to calm down! Do you understand the geopolitical ramifications?!"
The Draconic Kingdom was merely renting, not buying. Destroying those Death Knights would give the Sorcerous Kingdom a casus belli to obliterate her nation. The Kingdom of Re-Estize had been massacred over a mere grain convoy.
Her great-grandfather was indeed returning, but who knew how long he would stay?
"I refuse. For the safety of my citizens, as long as I sit on this throne, I will not choose a path of direct conflict with the Sorcerous Kingdom! Destroying the Death Knights is out of the question!"
"The Platinum Dragon Lord naturally wishes to avoid direct escalation as well. Preparations have been made... If the Death Knights are wiped out by the Beastmen, the Sorcerer King will have no grounds for complaint."
"Eh—!"
Indeed, if the Death Knights fell in battle against an enemy nation, the Sorcerer King could not blame the Draconic Kingdom. Moreover, if news spread that the invincible Death Knights had been destroyed, it would damage the Sorcerous Kingdom's reputation as a military power.
The Platinum Dragon Lord had calculated this cold-bloodedly.
But the key question remained: How could mere Beastmen eliminate a Death Knight?
It wasn't just simple foot soldiers. The Draconic Kingdom had rented a "Death Legion" consisting of six Death Knights, two Death Warriors, one Death Wizard, and one Death Priest—ten in total. Since their deployment, they had been an unstoppable force, liberating three cities.
"...The Beastman tribes do not possess such strength. They are not one of the superpowers of the Central Continent. It is impossible for them to eliminate a Death Legion... unless your Council interferes in secret."
"Oh my. As expected of Her Majesty."
"What exactly are you planning?"
"Hehehe, forgive me, but I cannot disclose operational details. Well then, I shall take my leave."
"Stop right there."
"I have much work to do—"
"I said, stop right there! Did you not hear your Queen?"
Draudillon stood up. She released the lock she kept on her biology, awakening the True Dragon blood flowing within her veins.
This bloodline did not grant her immense combat power, but it bestowed longevity and the ability to shift her form.
The little girl's figure began to swell. Her legs lengthened, her torso expanded, and her childish curves blossomed rapidly into womanhood. Her robes, enchanted artifacts designed for this specific purpose, resized along with her body.
In mere seconds, a tall, dignified, and voluptuous beauty stood before the throne.
Moreover—at this moment, Draudillon grew beautiful, obsidian-like dragon scales along her arms, calves, and the corners of her eyes. Her ears tapered to points, and her pupils narrowed into vertical slits that shone with an eerie, reptilian light. Faint dragon horns protruded from her luxurious hair.
"The... Black Scale Dragon Lord...!"
Eisen's body trembled slightly. Having served the Dragon Lords for years, he was instinctively sensitive to the pressure radiating from the blood of a World Enemy.
The Prime Minister seized the opportunity, dropping to one knee. The ministers quickly followed suit, amplifying the Queen's majesty. Cerabrate's kneeling was mechanical, his expression utterly distraught, as if his heart had broken.
(This guy... is he really that upset about seeing my adult form?! What is so great about little girls anyway...? Oh well, I'll ignore the lolicon for now.)
Draudillon's face was stern, her beauty revealing a fierce edge.
"Before my great-grandfather arrives, I am the sovereign of this land. Eisen Rael, I do not permit you to come and go as you please. What your Council is plotting involves the survival of my nation. Today, you will explain it to me clearly."
"I do not have the authority—"
"Then you will remain here as a guest until the Council sends someone who does."
"Detain me? Hahaha, you think you can keep me here? With that Adamantite adventurer? You overestimate yourself!"
"And I have been underestimated."
Draudillon tossed her hair and slowly raised her eyes.
As if responding to her will, an indescribable, heavy pressure suddenly emanated from her, instantly crushing the atmosphere of the throne room... no, it felt as though it enveloped the entire palace and the capital beyond.
Though invisible, this was not merely "presence" or "killing intent." It was a distortion of reality.
It was the awe of the World itself.
"I may lack physical combat power, but what if I were to unleash Wild Magic? Subduing a mortal like you would be child's play."
"The Origin—!"
Eisen's face contorted in rage and fear. "You would use the magic of the Dragon Lords here?! You... you possess merely one-eighth of the blood, and you dare to be so arrogant?!"
He likely wanted to curse her further, but fear choked the words in his throat. Draudillon smiled nonchalantly.
The Prime Minister narrowed his eyes. "Insolence! How dare a mere envoy speak such vulgarities to Her Majesty! Is the Argland Council State a nation of barbarians?"
Draudillon waved her hand dismissively.
"It is the land of the True Dragon Lords, after all. I doubt they are barbarians. This envoy surely understands my desire for the truth... You may all withdraw."
"Yes, Your Majesty. Please, question him thoroughly."
"Hey! Wait! Do not leave me—"
Ignoring Eisen's protests, the ministers followed the Prime Minister, filing out of the throne room. Draudillon remained silent for a moment, then sat back on her throne, suppressing the mysterious aura.
That was an aura that demanded souls.
If Draudillon wished to use Wild Magic, she required fuel. Unlike the True Dragon Lords who could tap into their own health or the world's mana, she had to absorb the souls of others. To cast a spell powerful enough to subdue him, she would need to sacrifice thousands of her own subjects.
Furthermore, she had no confidence that she could control such a blast. It was a bluff. A desperate gamble.
(Luckily, I bet correctly. This guy knew I could use Wild Magic, but he is ignorant of the cost.)
"Now, speak. Do not be shy. Drop the honorifics if they pain you."
"Hmph... Hmph hahaha... A mongrel may be a mongrel, but the blood is real...! Tch!"
Draudillon rested her chin on her hand, appearing unmoved.
"My great-grandfather... he is not like your Platinum Dragon Lord. Even if he returns, he will likely dump all state affairs on me as Regent. So in the end, it is still my headache. Tell me the plan."
Eisen chuckled darkly, then looked up with a sneer. "—'Crimson Storm.' Have you heard of them?"
"No. Who are they?"
"No wonder you live in ignorance in this corner of the continent. You are blind."
Draudillon's lip twitched. She did not consider life in the Draconic Kingdom "peaceful." Every day was a struggle against extinction. How could a foreigner understand?
"Crimson Storm is a high-tier mercenary group operating in the Central and Southern nations. Thanks to their teleportation mastery and special skills, they have a formidable record. And their true identity is—"
"I assume they are a black-ops unit that the Platinum Dragon Lord keeps to intervene in foreign conflicts?"
"How could the Platinum Dragon Lord dirty his hands with such trivialities? Use your brain. The Eastern Lands possess the 'Iron Cage Fortress,' which specializes in training various mercenary units. I, too, was handpicked by Lady Piglia—tch, enough said."
"I see... so you guided the Beastmen to hire this mercenary group to eliminate the Death Knights? Hey..."
"Hmph, do not worry. 'Crimson Storm' are merely henchmen; they are unaware of the Dragon Lord's will."
"What I worry about is the collateral damage! Just to slight the Sorcerer King, how many of my people will be dragged into the crossfire and die...!"
"That is none of my concern." Eisen turned and walked towards the door. "Consider it a necessary sacrifice. They are just worthless humans, after all."
"..."
Draudillon wanted to scream, but realizing she had lost control of the negotiation, she could only sigh.
"—Oh, right."
Eisen paused by the gate, his hand on the heavy wood. "Actually, I did not need to come here personally. I volunteered... because I wanted to see you with my own eyes. The one rumored to have inherited the blood of the True Dragon."
"...Is that so?"
"What a disappointment. Even more useless than I expected. No wonder the Brightness Dragon Lord abandoned this place. You possess the blood, but no power... What a waste."
Draudillon closed her eyes.
Though it wasn't outwardly apparent, Draudillon was many times older than Eisen. She was a hag in a young body. Yet, being criticized to her face still stung.
"Hey, did you know? In the Eastern Lands, there is a ritual magic that can splice dragon blood into a newborn, creating a 'False Dragonborn' with immense power. But their lifespan is short; they burn out and die by their thirties."
When Eisen turned his head, Draudillon was surprised to see his eyes had changed. Like hers, they now held vertical, reptilian pupils that glowed.
"You..."
"I am just one of those hypocritical, manufactured dragonborn. I wanted to see how outstanding a 'natural' would be... Hmph. In the end, you are just a mongrel born on a whim... I am far more useful to the Dragon Lords. Ironic, isn't it?"
So that was it. Was he jealous? Jealous of the curse of dragon's blood?
Draudillon felt a wave of nausea.
(Take it if you want it! Do you think this blood is a blessing?! How many times have I wanted to escape this fate—)
She gritted her teeth.
"A word of advice, 'Black Scale Dragon Lord.' If you do not wish to be used merely as a breeding sow or a tool, prove yourself. Otherwise, your ending will be tragic."
"Oh my. Do you mean me, or this Kingdom?"
"All of you... You idiots."
"Hmph. I return those words to you. Eisen Rael, a disposable tool of the Platinum Dragon Lord. Do not presume to lecture me. Get out."
Draudillon crossed her legs, half-closed her eyes, and waved him away as one would a pest.
"...Tch!"
Eisen pushed open the door and stormed out. He muttered something like "Remember this," but Draudillon decided it was merely the wind.
Perhaps.
With a glare, Eisen rejected the ministers' polite invitations to stay for a meal. In front of the palace gates, he unfurled a pair of membranous dragon wings and launched himself into the sky.
To vent his resentment and jealousy, he flew at full speed, the wind cutting against his face like knives.
(Damn it... damn it! That arrogant woman! She just got lucky with her heritage! I am clearly the superior—)
At that moment, the pendant against his chest grew hot.
It was an artifact crafted using the lost techniques of the Dragon Lords—a direct line of communication. It was rare, and only the most loyal servants, the "Dragon's Claws," were qualified to possess it. Unlike the Tier Magic spell [Message], which could be intercepted or forged, this connection was absolute.
(A message from the Platinum Dragon Lord?)
The jealousy vanished, replaced instantly by the servitude of a created being. Eisen halted in mid-air and grasped the pendant.
"Lord Platinum Dragon Lord—"
"Eisen Rael..."
"I am here!"
He knelt in the empty sky, bowing his head to the voice. He listened to the latest instructions issued by the Platinum Dragon Lord.
And then, his face went pale. The world seemed to stop spinning.
"You mean... The Sorcerous Kingdom... is currently destroying the Slane Theocracy?"