Chapter 590: Seasoned Racial Warrior, Blood Tax |
Breckton Kingdom, Hidden Altar.
The blood cocoon that had lain dormant for years began to tremble.
At first, it was just a slight vibration, as if something was slowly writhing inside. Then the tremors grew more intense, and fine cracks appeared on the cocoon's surface. Five-colored light seeped through the fissures, casting shifting shadows within the dark mountain hollow.
A low vulture demon's howl echoed from within the cocoon.
Then, a dragon claw covered in deep indigo scales pierced through the cocoon's shell. The scale shape was completely different now—narrow and blade-like, the edges lined with fine serrations.
The claw tore outward, and the blood cocoon made a sound like fabric ripping apart.
Another claw emerged.
Both claws grabbed the edges of the crack, pulling in opposite directions with all their strength. The cracks on the cocoon spread rapidly, covering the entire surface like a spiderweb.
"ROAR!!!"
Lamorein walked out.
His body was several times larger than before. His already massive frame now seemed even more imposing. Deep indigo scales covered his entire body, each scale quivering slightly, emitting faint crackling sounds as arcs of electricity danced across the surface.
What drew the most attention were his wings.
The wing membranes had become thick and tough, covered with lightning patterns branching like tree limbs, as if someone had imprinted the very shape of a thunderstorm onto them.
These patterns were not decorations.
They were glowing.
Silvery-white light flowed within the patterns, as if it could burst forth at any moment. Even the slightest trace of leaked energy filled the surrounding air with a scorching sensation, and bolts of electricity would spontaneously spark from time to time.
His dragon horns had also changed.
The iconic single horn at the tip of his nose had vanished, replaced by three pairs of curved horns extending backward from the top of his head, like a crown forged from lightning. Each horn was covered in densely packed runes.
The language of storms—an Authority innate to Storm Dragons from ancient times.
Lamorein lowered his head and looked at his claws.
He could feel the power flowing within him.
Storms surged through his veins, lightning lurked beneath his scales. With a single thought, he could summon a devastating Cataclysm-level Storm.
"Power... unprecedented power."
He murmured to himself, his voice echoing through the mountain hollow.
"This is the Mandate of Heaven. This is a Storm Dragon."
Lamorein knew he had achieved a qualitative leap.
From crown-level to Mandate of Heaven in a single bound—and becoming a true Storm Dragon in the process.
Among the seven colored dragons, blue dragons ranked seventh, but when compared among the several major true dragon lineages, their position was considerably higher.
Gold Dragons, Red Dragons, Silver Dragons, Iron Dragons, Amethyst Dragons... the average strength of those dragons at the same level was generally lower than that of Blue Dragons. Now, Storm Dragons ranked only below Gold Dragons.
He could feel his connection to this world growing tighter.
The entire sky had become an extension of his will.
Clouds, air currents, electrical charges—everything was within his reach.
"Do you feel it, my child?"
That voice spoke again, filled with satisfaction and joy, like a mother watching her child finally grow into adulthood.
"This is the power you deserve."
"This is the true form of a Storm Dragon—a walking calamity, the master of the skies."
Lamorein raised his head, gazing toward the Dome. His gaze penetrated the thick layers of rock as if seeing the sky beyond.
"Yes, great mother."
He acknowledged, his voice low and hoarse.
"I feel it."
"Good." The Chromatic Queen's voice became solemn. "Then, my apostle, accept your mission."
"Walk upon the earth and spread my glory."
"Establish my temples in every city, every village. Let all intelligent beings know of the Chromatic Queen's existence. Let them pray to me, make offerings to me, pay blood tax to me—offer blood and soul as sacrifice in exchange for my protection."
"This is your first mission."
Blood tax was the Chromatic Queen's way of claiming from her followers, especially from dragon followers. An evil god as notorious as she was—even the Five-colored Dragons were unwilling to genuinely believe in her from the heart.
But deities had many ways to gain faith.
For example, through fear.
Support a powerful apostle, force faith and blood tax demands, show tenderness to the obedient, bare fangs and claws to the defiant, obliterating them to dust and ash.
This was the most common method the Immortal Dragon Queen used to gain faith.
Lamorein fell silent.
He could feel something change deep within his soul.
It wasn't forced control, but a more subtle influence. His thoughts remained clear, his will remained independent, but on some level, he no longer completely belonged to himself.
After death, he would return to the Queen's divine realm, becoming her eternal servant.
While alive, his decisions would also be influenced by her will, like a puppet on strings.
But that was the price.
And he had known it before accepting.
"Great mother, I accept your command."
He said, his voice calm.
"The Helmod Dragonflight's kingdom will first establish your temples and spread your faith."
"My subjects will make offerings to you and pay blood tax. Your glory will echo across my territory."
"Good, very good."
The Chromatic Queen's voice was full of satisfaction.
"I knew you were a child worthy of trust."
But then, her tone changed, becoming dangerous.
"And there is a second mission, Lamorein."
"Please instruct me."
"The ruler of the Aola Kingdom, Garoth Ignas, the Scarlet Emperor Cangxing, the Red Emperor—he was once one of my most beloved children, just like you."
"But he refused my grace."
Hearing this, Lamorein's vertical pupils contracted slightly.
"Not only that—he showed disrespect to me."
The Chromatic Queen continued, the temperature of her voice dropping lower and lower.
"He rejected my grace, profaned my majesty. Such sins are unforgivable."
"I want you to destroy the Aola Kingdom and make him beg for my forgiveness."
"If he refuses to yield..."
The Queen paused, then continued.
"Kill him. Skin him, break his bones. Let his flesh and blood become offerings on the altar, let his soul suffer eternal torment in my divine realm."
"That is the price he deserves."
Silence.
Lamorein stood motionless, his lightning patterns still glowing, emitting faint crackling sounds, but his gaze had grown complicated.
"Mother, you want me... to deal with Garoth?"
He asked slowly.
"Yes."
The Chromatic Queen's voice returned to that gentle tone, but Lamorein could hear the unyielding certainty within it.
"He is your enemy, Lamorein."
"He stole the glory that should have been yours. He took away the dragons' reverence for you. Now you have power—go take back what belongs to you. Prove who truly deserves to lead the dragon race as their king."
Set the wolf to swallow the tiger.
One of the Chromatic Queen's favorite tactics.
When a most beloved child grew too rebellious, she would elevate other lesser children, granting them tremendous power to surpass her favored one in the short term—either forcing submission or destroying them outright.
The Chromatic Queen's will spanned countless worlds.
At this very moment, she was doing countless similar things simultaneously.
Lamorein lowered his head, looking at his claws.
The deep indigo scales gleamed with a dark light, the lightning patterns shimmering brilliantly. He could feel the surging power within him—this was genuine Mandate of Heaven power, something he had dreamed of before.
But strangely, he didn't feel the ecstasy he had imagined.
Instead, there was a hint of emptiness.
"I refuse."
These three words came from the Storm Dragon's mouth, echoing through the empty mountain hollow.
The Chromatic Queen's voice stopped abruptly.
Then, a low vibration spread through the air, like the oppressive weight before a storm. Light flickered, casting twisted shadows.
"What did you say?"
The Chromatic Queen's voice was still gentle—at least it sounded that way. "My child, you just accepted my grace, and now you want to defy my will?"
"Not defiance."
Lamorein raised his head, staring directly at a point in the void.
"Refusal."
"Garoth Ignas—he has the chance to become the hope of dragonkind."
"I know he cares about his own strength, not the strength of the dragon race. But what was the result?"
"The result was that under his rule, dragons raised their heads again. The result was that the entire Atlantis Continent talks about the majesty of dragons. The result was that those Metal Dragons, those hypocrites who call themselves noble, had to acknowledge his existence."
Lamorein said seriously.
"Great mother, I have lived for a thousand years. I have endured for a thousand years, just to see dragonkind become great again."
"Garoth's existence is good for the dragon race. I don't care whether he stole my glory—I only care about the result. And the result is that, whatever his intentions, he is gradually making dragons the masters of this world."
He took a deep breath, his voice returning to calm, but the determination in it remained undiminished.
"So, I refuse."
"As long as the Red Emperor himself does not make an enemy of me, I would rather go and die together with the Bronze Dragon King—obtaining a true Mandate dragon soul for you—than fight against him."
"If you want to take back your grace because of this..."
He closed his eyes.
"Then take it back. But I will not change this decision."
In Lamorein's view, almost all evil dragons cared too much about themselves. They were selfish, no matter how strong, they didn't care about the race.
The Metal Dragons were too hypocritical, always thinking about so-called justice and order.
Garoth was just right.
He had ambition, wisdom, and power. He had an indescribable charisma. Whether Five-colored Dragons, Metal Dragons, or other dragons, they would spontaneously gather around him.
This one thing destined him to lead dragons to glory.
This was something no other dragon could do.
The Chromatic Queen fell silent.
A divine apostle would be influenced by her will, but that didn't mean they completely lost their ability to think. Otherwise, an apostle completely stripped of free will couldn't do much for her anyway.
She sensed Lamorein's stubbornness.
He was a seasoned "racial warrior," firmly believing that Garoth's existence was good for the entire dragon race.
His conviction was so strong that it could not be changed even by the Chromatic Queen's will.
The silence lasted a long time.
The light inside the mountain hollow flickered. The air grew heavy. Lamorein stood there, motionless, waiting for the Chromatic Queen's judgment.
Finally, the voice spoke again, softly.
"You... remind me of those Storm Dragons from ancient times."
The Chromatic Queen said. "They were just as stubborn, just as proud, daring to speak their minds even to their own mother."
"This isn't stubbornness."
Lamorein said. "This is principle."
"Principle..."
The Chromatic Queen laughed softly, without any hint of anger.
"Fine, my apostle, my child. I appreciate your principle, and I respect your choice. But you must also understand—disrespect toward me must have consequences, or where would my majesty be?"
Lamorein said nothing, waiting for what came next.
"How about this."
The Chromatic Queen said.
"First complete your first mission. Establish temples in your kingdom, spread faith, collect blood tax. Let your subjects know their king has received a deity's favor. Let them pray to me, let me gain fertile soil for faith in this world."
"As for Garoth..."
She paused.
"You can go talk to him first."
"In the name of dragonkind's greater good, in the name of jointly facing external enemies, make him agree to establish my temples within the Aola Kingdom. If he is willing to compromise and acknowledge my status, then I can overlook his previous offenses."
Lamorein was silent for a moment.
"And if he refuses?"
He asked.
The Chromatic Queen didn't answer directly, instead asking a question in return.
"Lamorein, my child—can you tolerate a rebel who repeatedly profanes his own mother's majesty?"
Lamorein fell silent again.
He thought carefully about the question.
He thought about how the Chromatic Queen had already made a concession, changing from demanding the destruction of the Aola Kingdom to merely requesting the establishment of temples. If Garoth still didn't know his place, still rejected the mother's mercy...
From the bottom of his heart, he felt anger at that thought.
Countless lightning bolts shot out from beneath his scales, crackling inside the mountain hollow. A fierce impulse surged within him—to destroy that rebel, to defend the mother's glory.
This was the price of becoming an apostle.
His foundation was changing. The Chromatic Queen's stamp was being branded into his thoughts.
He was gradually becoming a loyal follower of the Chromatic Queen.
Still, Lamorein retained enough rationality. He was clear-headed enough to recognize that Garoth would not agree to having temples appear on his land.
"I..."
Lamorein hesitated, choosing his words carefully.
"Great mother, let me start with my own kingdom. Let me gather faith for you, establish temples, collect blood tax. Once things are stable here, I will go to Aola."
"If he refuses your mercy..."
The Blue Dragon's voice dropped low, speaking word by word.
"As your apostle, I will spare no expense to defend your divine majesty."
As he spoke these words, he felt something resonate deep within his soul—the apostle's oath, a promise to a deity, a confirmation of his new identity.
"Very good."
The Chromatic Queen's voice was unhurried, filled with satisfaction.
"I knew you were wise, Lamorein. You will not disappoint me."
"Go, my apostle. Let all the great dragons across this world know—their mother has returned. Let storms once again shroud this land. Let all living beings tremble in the lightning."
"This will be your era."
Lamorein bowed his head deeply.
The runes on his dragon horns glowed faintly, as if responding to the Chromatic Queen's blessing.
When he raised his head again, the Chromatic Queen's will had receded. The sensation of being watched disappeared. The mountain hollow returned to silence, leaving only his transformed body and power to remind him of what had happened.
He spread his wings.
The lightning patterns on his wing membranes lit up instantly, silvery-white light illuminating the entire mountain hollow.
He could feel clouds gathering over the entire Breckton Kingdom. A storm was brewing. The electrical charges in the clouds responded to his call. Air currents began to rotate under his will.
"Storm Dragon..."
Lamorein declared loudly.
"You will carry out the mother's will. Walk upon the earth. Spread the mother's glory."
He beat his wings once.
In an instant, his deep indigo body crashed through the mountain hollow, shooting upward. Rocks shattered under the lightning, breaking into fragments that scattered everywhere. Light poured down through the broken opening, gleaming off his new scales like metallic luster.
Lamorein soared through the clouds.
His wings spread wide, their span broader than before. Thick dark clouds had already covered the sky—the storm he had summoned, the extension of his will.
Thunder rumbled. Lightning flashed and roared.
On the ground, countless intelligent beings looked up simultaneously, gazing at the enormous entity in the sky.
The dragons of the Helmod Dragonflight reacted first.
They saw that familiar figure, but not entirely familiar. They saw wings covered in lightning patterns, a crown forged from lightning, a body more massive and majestic than before.
"It's the great Lord of Thunder."
"Mandate of Heaven? Our king has broken through to Mandate of Heaven!"
"This feeling is... a Storm Dragon?!"
The dragons cried out in shock, their voices filled with disbelief and ecstasy.
The humanoid creatures on the ground prostrated themselves, trembling. They didn't understand what was happening, but they could feel the suffocating pressure.
Lamorein heard these sounds.
He heard his subjects' astonishment, his vassals' cheers, the fearful prayers of the weaker creatures. Then he lowered his head, looking down upon his own kingdom and subjects.
From this moment on, everything would be different.
Temples would rise from the ground. Faith would spread like wildfire. Blood tax would become the norm. His will would intertwine with the Chromatic Queen's will. His kingdom would become the Five-colored Dragon Queen's stronghold in the Material Plane.
And Garoth...
Lamorein looked south, toward the direction of the Aola Kingdom.
"We will meet again, Garoth."
He murmured, his voice blending with the thunder.
"By then, I hope you will make the right choice."
"For dragonkind. And for yourself."
The storm raged across the sky. The Lord of Thunder's figure disappeared into the depths of the clouds, leaving only rolling thunder echoing endlessly above the Breckton Kingdom.
The dark clouds gradually dispersed. Sunlight once again fell upon the earth.
But everyone knew—this was only a temporary calm. A new storm had already arrived.