Chapter 612: Apotheosis Dragon, Dragon King Returns! |
The banquet ended, and night shrouded the royal capital.
The musicians' strings had fallen silent. The dancers dispersed in small groups of twos and threes. Lamps around the square were extinguished one by one. Aola citizens who had collapsed drunk beneath the long tables were dragged back to their lodgings, their arms slung over their companions' shoulders. The long tables were dismantled one by one.
The clamor settled down bit by bit.
The entire city fell into a deep slumber.
Garoth spread his wings and ascended into the night sky.
He slowed the rhythm of his wingbeats, letting his body glide in a smooth arc, slowly circling above the royal capital. His vertical pupils gleamed with an eerie light in the darkness. He lowered his gaze, sweeping his eyes across the land.
In the sleeping streets and alleys, scattered dots of firelight flickered like stray embers, flaring and dimming.
Further away, the fields on the plains glowed with a hazy silver-gray under the moonlight, silent and vast.
Then, a pale blue stream of light rose from below, coming to his side.
"Your Majesty, did you summon me up here for some training?"
Reinhardt asked, his voice laced with anticipation.
When it came to training with the Emperor, he was the only one in the entire Aola Kingdom who was genuinely willing.
It wasn't that the others weren't loyal to the Emperor. It was just that the intensity and pace of the Aola Emperor's training were far too high. No other legendary figure could withstand it.
Reinhardt was different.
He could keep up. Every time he honed his sword against a dragon's body, he always gained something.
Garoth shook his head slightly.
"This isn't the time for training."
His voice was deep and low. "We don't know when the great war will break out. Preserving our strength is more important than expending it."
Reinhardt was taken aback for a moment.
A great war.
When that word came from the Emperor's mouth, it carried a weight entirely different from when anyone else said it. He instinctively followed the red iron dragon's gaze.
To the west of Atlan.
At the edge of the night sky, clouds hung low.
Even on clear nights, an unyielding gloom shrouded the western horizon. Occasionally, lightning would tear through it, briefly illuminating the cities and wilderness crushed under tyranny, only to be swallowed by darkness again.
Reinhardt stared at the horizon, his pupils contracting in the night.
He had a vague guess of what was coming.
"Your Majesty... are we going to move against the Storm Dragon?"
he asked in a low voice.
The western kingdoms had suffered under the Lord of Thunder's oppression for far too long.
Exorbitant taxes, enslavement, massacre.
They treated the living as sacrifices, cities as cattle pens. The bodies of resisters were hung on wooden stakes until they dried out—men, women, and children alike. Crows perched on their shoulders, pecking at the corpses, impossible to drive away.
When Reinhardt had been in the west, he had witnessed too many horrors.
They were still unforgettable.
If he were a person of detached nature, he might think it had nothing to do with him, seal away those memories, and continue living his own life.
But in the heart of this Mandate swordsman, Reinhardt, there existed a certain heroic undertone.
This kind of thing was never spoken aloud, but it was always there.
He genuinely wanted to save the west from the Storm Dragon's claws and fangs.
It was just that he lacked the power.
As for asking the Emperor to dispatch troops to conquer the west, Reinhardt had considered it, but he had never actually spoken the words.
Because war was no child's play. Once it started, if it couldn't be ended in a short time, it would become a protracted war of attrition, dragging more and more Aola citizens into blood and fire.
He wanted to save some people, but he didn't want to trade the lives of others to do it.
These two thoughts wrestled in his heart, preventing him from making any request to the Emperor.
The red iron dragon adjusted the angle of his wing spread, saying, "Three-quarters of Atlan already belongs to Aola. Now, only the final piece of the puzzle remains."
He tilted his head slightly, turning his vertical pupils toward Reinhardt. "Whether it's in the name of salvation or to expand our territory, conquering the west is something Aola must do."
Reinhardt's brows shot up.
Joy surged in his chest, but it was quickly suppressed by reason.
"Your Majesty, the Storm Dragon worships the Chromatic Queen."
Reinhardt said, "His rule in the west is, to some extent, an extension of the Queen's will into the Material Plane. If our army marches into the west and pushes Lamorein into a corner..."
He looked into the dragon's eyes, speaking solemnly. "...what if the Queen also descends an avatar? Things might not end well."
In the past, Reinhardt wouldn't have considered this issue.
The descent of a deity sounded too remote, like a legend from a bedtime story.
But things were different now.
There was already a precedent.
In the recent Imperial War, the Beast of Might, worshipped by the orcs, had descended an avatar, directly intervening in the Material Plane. Although the outcome was bad, it had also served as a wake-up call.
But then again.
Among the countless deities, the Beast of Might was actually a rather inconspicuous one.
Unless one had specifically studied the orc pantheon, few knew of this deity's existence. His true title didn't rank high in the divine genealogy; he was at best a fringe god.
But the Chromatic Queen, Tiamat, was different.
Even illiterate commoners in remote villages and towns knew of this evil dragon god.
Her name and the stories about her were told again and again around countless campfires on countless nights.
The five-headed evil dragon, the one of a thousand colors that returns to the void, the mother of dragonkind... She was mythology itself, the most tangible evil that many mortals could imagine.
If it was her who descended an avatar, the variables would be far too great.
Garoth circled in the air for another half turn, then shook his head slightly.
"Don't worry about that. The Queen won't descend an avatar. At least, not casually."
Reinhardt blinked, his expression puzzled.
"Why not?"
he asked.
"For her, the cost is far too high."
Garoth's voice was deep and slow, unhurried. "Too many deities are watching her. Not just the good gods, but also the evil ones."
"She has enemies in the Abyss, enemies in Hell, and even enemies within the dragon gods themselves."
He paused for a beat, then continued, "If she dared to descend an avatar on Bernardo, it would mean exposing a part of her divinity to the Material Plane."
"She can't afford that risk."
"So, her support for Lamorein will, at most, stop at divine edicts, blessings, or some indirect means. She won't get directly involved."
Reinhardt pondered for a few seconds, then a look of understanding dawned on his face.
The Beast of Might had dared to descend an avatar for an Imperial war because he didn't have that many enemies watching him. He was nearly invisible on the divine map. The cost of his descent was relatively controllable, and the risk was also relatively manageable.
But the Chromatic Queen was truly infamous for her evil.
Her list of enemies was too numerous to count. Every old score dragged up was a blood debt. She also bore the title 'Enemy of the Gods,' and it wasn't for show.
Compared to her.
The so-called Beast of Might, the God of Brute Courage, was nothing more than a fledgling before a great villain. They weren't even on the same scale.
If the Queen so much as sneezed, a pile of gods would prick up their ears to listen.
Reinhardt's knowledge of the dragon gods wasn't that deep.
But since it was Garoth's judgment, he trusted it.
"Then, Your Majesty."
The human Mandate straightened his spine, saying, "No matter when this war begins, let me be the vanguard. For the glory of the Emperor, for Aola, and for the lives still waiting to be saved."
Garoth turned his head.
"There will be a time for you to fight."
He said, "For now, go back and rest. When the horn sounds, I need you to be in your best condition."
Reinhardt took a deep breath, suppressing the emotions churning in his chest.
"As you command, Your Majesty."
With that, he turned, transforming into a pale blue streak of light, flying down toward the city below, quickly disappearing among the jumbled, undulating rooftops.
The great dragon stopped circling.
He folded his wings, his massive body diving from the night sky, plummeting toward the dragon court.
Soon, he arrived at his treasure vault.
Gold covered the floor like a golden ocean, stretching from the entrance to the end of sight. Stepping on it produced a tinkling, clinking echo.
This wealth would be enough to drive any legendary dragon in the world mad with envy.
But it wasn't the most valuable part of the vault.
In the center of the golden ocean was a small mountain piled high with colorful gemstones, adamantite ingots, mithril blocks, and black oil crystals.
Garoth waded through the golden sea, stopping before the gem mountain.
Rubies, sapphires, emeralds, magic diamonds... His vertical pupils reflected the shimmering, colorful specks of light, but his draconic face showed no emotion.
Without hesitation, he lowered his head and began to eat.
Priceless treasures were crushed by his sharp teeth, swallowed down. Wave after wave of pure energy spread from his stomach through his entire body, flooding into his bones, muscles, and scales... eventually converging into the Dragon Pearl.
This process continued for a considerable amount of time.
Finally, the great dragon stopped. He gently patted the scales on his belly.
He closed his eyes, feeling the state within his body.
The Dragon Pearl was completely full. The energy density in his blood had reached its peak. There was even a faintly swollen feeling throughout his limbs and bones, like a bowstring drawn to its limit.
Garoth opened his eyes, sweeping his gaze across the treasures in the vault.
Compared to what he had eaten, the remaining portion hadn't decreased noticeably.
The golden ocean was still vast. The gem mountain was still towering.
If he wanted to eat all the wealth before him...
"It would take a long time. How did those Apotheosis Dragons complete their ritual? Oh, perhaps because they were poorer, with limited wealth, and only met the minimum standard."
He muttered to himself.
Deep within the Dragon Legacy, there was a clearly recorded, step-by-step apotheosis ritual specifically designed for dragons. And the entry requirements weren't particularly high.
[Apotheosis Dragon]
Set up the corresponding ritual formation, then eat all of your own treasure. All of it. Not a single piece left.
After that, a legendary dragon could leap to the Saint-level Apotheosis Dragon in a single night, free from all the troubles of twilight.
But very few dragons chose this path.
For the vast majority of dragons, the requirement to eat all the treasure they had amassed in their entire lives was more agonizing than death itself.
To dragons, treasure was never just wealth. It was more like their obsession, their pride, some kind of proof of their existence.
No dragon of sound mind would make this choice while in a clear state of consciousness.
Furthermore, although the Apotheosis Dragon path was powerful, it had insurmountable limitations.
It was stronger than a Mandate, but weaker than a true Saint or an Immortal. It was stuck in that middle ground.
It wouldn't die of natural causes. It didn't need to eat, sleep, or breathe. It seemed to have achieved eternity, but its power growth was completely locked.
It could no longer grow stronger through the accumulation of time. It could never stand shoulder to shoulder with those who had truly embarked on the Path of Immortality.
Dragons were naturally proud.
Choosing a path that destined them to be inferior to other races' powerhouses was worse than dying of old age.
Garoth also had no interest in apotheosis.
He took a deep breath, suppressing the turbulent thoughts.
Then he crouched down, resting his head on his forepaws, and closed his eyes.
At the same moment.
The deep sea.
The Bronze Dragon King opened his eyes.
His pupils, in the absolute darkness of the seabed rift, lit up, calm and cold.
His colossal draconic body lay prostrate in the deepest part of the rift. Thick layers of seabed sediment covered his scales, almost making him a part of this underwater terrain.
He had been here for far too long.
Then, he felt it.
The rift reaching from the Abyss into the Material Plane had finally disappeared completely. It had dried up, shrunk, and ultimately vanished entirely. The aura it had emitted was completely severed.
The Bronze Dragon King's vertical pupils contracted, then expanded.
The Deep-Sea Gate he had guarded for such a long time was now nothing but cold rock and ordinary seawater. The fissure that had once repeatedly torn at the bottom of the rift was now indistinguishable from its surroundings.
He knew better than anyone what this meant.
His task was complete.
The vows that had once bound him were also over.
He was no longer tied to this seabed. He had regained the right to leave this place.
Freedom!
This concept, forgotten for too long, shot through him like an electric current, from his skull to the tip of his tail.
Slowly, the Bronze Dragon King stood up.
Sediment peeled away from him. Thick deposits of sea rock and barnacles covered his dark cyan scales, shattering and falling off as his muscles expanded, revealing the gleaming metallic surface of the scales beneath.
His muscles bulged under his scales. His chest expanded. His lungs filled with a mixture of sea water and air.
He raised his head slightly, letting out a silent roar.
Crack!
One by one, holy vow runes ignited on his scales, shining like molten gold, densely covering the side of his neck, his flanks, and his wing bones.
His already deep aura surged upwards once again.
Powerful energy gushed from every gap in his scales, whipping up a massive whirlpool in the deep sea. The water spun wildly, churning up sediment that had been settled for who knew how many years, turning the entire bottom of the rift into chaos.
Few of the younger generations of dragons knew.
The Bronze Dragon King was a master of the Saint-Dragon path, with extremely profound skill in it.
To take a holy vow, to see it through to the end, and to receive the reward upon its completion.
This was the one thing he had never given up on during those countless long nights in the deep sea. And when he had carried out his belief and completed the holy vow that had bound him for so long, the feedback came as promised.
This reward wasn't enough to directly break through to Immortal.
But it was enough to push him to the peak of the Mandate rank, a place where there was no further room for progress.
Then, he spread his wings.
The water pressure formed two ring-shaped shockwaves, radiating outward from the seabed rift in all directions. The rock walls trembled. The sand and mud churned. The entire bottom-layer ecosystem of this sea area was thrown into turmoil in an instant.
Then, with a flap of his wings and a sweep of his giant tail.
His massive body shot upward like an arrow from a bow.
Wherever he passed, the seawater was forcibly pushed to the sides, creating a massive vacuum channel.
Surrounding schools of fish, giant beasts, and even some ancient magical beasts that had dwelled in the deep sea for a long time were all pushed aside by this irresistible force.
The sea surface.
Sparkling, calm, serene. Like a meticulously painted picture.
Moonlight scattered across the water, shattering into thousands of silver specks, gently undulating with the tiny waves. Everything was so peaceful.
Then, the picture was torn apart.
The water surface bulged violently, as if some colossal thing was pushing up the entire sea from below.
Immediately after, the water curtain exploded. Seawater shot into the sky. The water column refracted the moonlight, forming a giant fountain in the night sky. Water splashed everywhere, sparkling like crushed silver.
The Bronze Dragon King had already broken through the sea surface.
He hovered in the high sky, his dragon wings fully extended, blotting out the moon. Seawater cascaded off his scales like a waterfall, plunging back into the ocean below.
"Wind... air... night..."
The Bronze Dragon King closed his eyes slightly, breathing deeply.
The night wind rushed into his face, carrying the salty taste of the ocean and a hint of coolness, flooding his lungs.
Those sensations he hadn't felt for so long now surged into his senses all at once, making him feel that every single breath was a luxurious enjoyment. His scales opened slightly in the wind.
However, the Bronze Dragon King only indulged for a few seconds.
He opened his eyes, his gaze shifting from intoxicated to clear.
He had burst out of the sea not for pleasure.
The world was beautiful, but it also harbored too much ugliness. It needed dragons like him to purify and protect it. That was his mission, his reason for living.
The Bronze Dragon King raised his head towards the sky and let out a long roar.
The sound pierced through the clouds, tearing through the night sky.
The entire Raging Tides Dragon Domain trembled.
On the many islands around, dragons poked their heads out of their lairs, one by one.
Silver dragons, gold dragons, bronze dragons, brass dragons... Their gazes were first surprised, then turned to excitement and joy.
"It's the Dragon King! The Dragon King is awake!"
"Lord Sheffield has returned from the deep sea!"
"I knew it! I knew the Dragon King would never stay on that seabed forever!"
"... ..."
Legendary dragons rose into the air one after another.
The first to arrive was a crown-level gold dragon. His scales looked like molten gold in the moonlight.
He glanced at the still-choppy sea surface, then looked at Sheffield. Suppressing his emotions, he asked in a steady voice, "Dragon King, will you not guard the Abyssal Rift anymore?"
The Bronze Dragon King turned his head to look at him, his voice calm.
"The rift has healed. I have completed my vow."
Hearing this, even the crown-level Ancient Dragon found it hard to hide his excitement.
At the same time, more figures flew in from the direction of the Raging Tides Dragon Domain.
Dragons spread out layer upon layer, converging from all directions, forming a massive ring in the sky, encircling the Bronze Dragon King at the center.
"Dragon King! You've finally returned!"
"We've waited too long for this day!"
"Under your leadership, we, the Raging Tide dragons, will soar across the skies once more!"
The dragons couldn't restrain their excitement. Heavy, ragged breaths rose and fell.
The water column on the sea surface had long since quietly dissipated. The spray fell back onto the sea. Moonlight once again spread across the waves, as if paving a silver road for the Dragon King's return.
The Bronze Dragon King looked around at the dragons gathered around him.
When his gaze swept over them, even the Ancient Dragons involuntarily lowered their heads in respect.
They had waited for too long.
Some dragons had given up hope that the Dragon King would ever see the sky again.
But now, the legend had come alive.
The Bronze Dragon King looked at them, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly in a gentle arc. Then, his expression turned serious, becoming heavier than before.
"Silence."
His voice instantly overpowered all the clamor.
The dragons quickly folded their wing membranes, closed their mouths, and hovered in the air, their eyes burning as they looked at their king. The entire sky fell silent, with only the sounds of the sea breeze and the waves.
The Bronze Dragon King slowly circled once, allowing every follower to see his faceplate clearly.
"Evil is on the rise."
"During the years of my slumber, evil was on the rise. Justice has been absent for far too long."
His voice gradually grew impassioned.
And as the Bronze Dragon King's emotions changed, so did the sea surface.
One massive wave after another surged from the sea. Water splashed high into the air, even hitting the dragons hovering at low altitude, wetting their scales.
"Dragons of the Raging Tides Dragon Domain!"
The Bronze Dragon King raised his voice, saying, "I have summoned you to let justice echo under the sky once more! To thoroughly purify the sins of this world!"
In response came roars from all directions.
But the Bronze Dragon King didn't let the roar continue for long.
He raised a single foreclaw, and the dragons fell silent instantly. All sounds dropped away at the same moment.
"Look at this world."
The Bronze Dragon King's voice dropped, saying, "Evil dragons have established their rule over Atlan, treating the land as their own hunting ground. Although the Abyssal rift has vanished, its corruption has long since seeped into the earth. A cataclysm from the stars is spreading unchecked across Arotala. Empires are engulfed in blazing war, and people are suffering."
He paused, his gaze sweeping across every face.
"And what of our kin in the other dragon domains? They are stuck in their own ways, burying their heads in the sand, pretending this has nothing to do with them. As long as the fire doesn't reach their own lairs, they can turn a blind eye."
"This is the behavior of cowards, not the pride of dragonkind."
"But turning a blind eye... that is their business!"
The Bronze Dragon King's voice boomed like the waves, crying out, "We, the dragons of the Raging Tides Dragon Domain, must not fear the cause of justice. We must not fear fighting evil."
"If we retreat in the face of evil, what difference is there between us and evil itself?"
His voice rose again, like a giant wave crashing against a reef. "Justice has never been empty talk. It is shaped only by claws and fangs, by flames, by blood and sacrifice!"
As he said this, he gradually calmed his surging emotions.
His voice dropped.
"My kin, this is a path full of hardships."
He looked around, saying, "If any of you only want to protect yourselves, don't want to take risks, don't want to lose your precious lives, you may leave now. I will not stop you, nor will I hold it against you. I permit you to go."
"You can return to your lairs and live a peaceful life."
"But from now on, there will be no place for you in the Raging Tides Dragon Domain."
The sea breeze, carrying sea foam, beat against the dragons' scales.
Not a single dragon retreated.
Every pair of eyes burned with the same fervent light under the night sky.
Those who had stayed in the Raging Tides Dragon Domain were precisely the dragons who held to the Purification Faction's theories.
They had gathered here, year after year, month after month, precisely to follow the Bronze Dragon King. If they had just wanted to live in peace, they would have gone to another dragon domain long ago.
The crown-level gold dragon spoke up, saying, "Dragon King, we waited for your return not to turn our backs on you now. Besides, I've been waiting for this day until my scales almost faded."
A short, low chuckle passed through the dragon host, quickly replaced by solemnity again.
The Bronze Dragon King looked around once more and slowly nodded.
"Very well."
"Then it's time to let the world reacquaint itself with the metal dragons."
He began to issue orders, his voice crisp and decisive.
"Fenoris, Archer."
He looked at the two dragons.
Fenoris was a crown-level gold dragon. His aura was deep and heavy, not far from Mandate. His claws and fangs were sharp, his dragon breath blazing. He was among the most formidable of all metal dragons.
Archer was a crown-level silver dragon, with a more introverted temperament.
"Arotala. The orcs of Kantum are still wreaking havoc there. The cataclysm and the fires of war have not been extinguished. Those orcs see slaughter as glory and conquest as their mission. The people of that continent have already shed too much blood."
"You will lead one-third of the legendary dragons there."
"Uphold justice, resist aggression, protect the innocent. Stand on the side of justice. Save as many as you can."
Fenoris and Archer lowered their heads in the air, their voices booming, "As you command!"
"As for me..."
The Bronze Dragon King turned his head, looking in another direction. His gaze pierced through the night and the long sea route. The outline of a broad and silent continent was faintly visible.
"I will lead the remaining dragons to Atlan."
He paused, his voice slow and deep.
"The Red Calamity. Scarlet Emperor Cangxing. Garoth Ignas."
"He built an evil kingdom with disguise and deceit, enslaving the various races. But he paints it over as peace and prosperity. His cities are orderly, his army is disciplined, his people seem to live in peace and contentment. But it's all a facade."
"Beneath that outer garment lies a form of unprecedented great evil."
"And the Storm Evil Dragon, the Lord of Thunder, Lamorein."
"Backed by the Chromatic Queen, he imposes exorbitant taxes, acts with cruelty. His sins require no investigation; they hang on the city walls. Those dried-out corpses are irrefutable evidence of evil needing no explanation."
"And there is the potential danger of demons."
"The Abyss's gaze has never truly left this world. It is merely waiting for its opportunity in another form."
"We must purify this land!"
Two great evil dragons, and demons.
They were all the targets of the Bronze Dragon King.
Then, a silver dragon flew out from the ranks, coming to the Bronze Dragon King's side, slightly lowering her head.
"Two evil dragons, with vastly different natures."
"The Red Calamity wears the cloak of a ruler. He governs numerous races, and his rule is orderly."
"Across the entire continent of Atlan, a considerable number of races willingly submit to him. His reputation is excellent, and he has many allies. Some even say he is the greatest monarch in Atlan's history."
The silver dragon paused, then continued, "The Storm Evil Dragon is backed by a deity, acts with cruelty, and is naked, undisguised evil. He only relies on power and fear."
"If we face both of them at the same time... the risk is immense. My king, which one should we deal with first?"
As the silver dragon finished speaking.
A nearby brass dragon spoke up, his voice carrying a cunning tone.
"The Red Calamity and the Storm Evil Dragon both occupy Atlan. On the surface, they don't interfere with each other, each keeping to their own business. But in reality, they are like fire and water. A mountain cannot hold two tigers. A single continent cannot accommodate two overlords."
The brass dragon licked his lips, saying, "If we do a little instigating, let them fight to the death first, then we can reap the benefits. We can eliminate the evil with minimal cost. Haha, once they've both been weakened, we make our move."
"Two birds with one stone. Clean and simple."
The Bronze Dragon King turned his head and looked at the brass dragon.
"No."
"Justice cannot be delayed."
He explained, his voice unhurried.
"Every day the Storm Evil Dragon is delayed from being stopped is another day the innocent suffer."
"Every day the Red Calamity is delayed from being exposed is another day the lives he has deceived continue. The people of various races who have sworn loyalty to him believe they are following a wise ruler, when in reality, they are enslaved by a tyrant. They need to know the truth."
He said solemnly.
"To fight for justice, you cannot use the lives of the innocent as bargaining chips. If we choose to wait in order to reduce our own losses..."
"Tolerating evil is a desecration of justice."
"Letting two evils fight? That is the way of schemers, the act of a venomous snake."
"We stand on the side of justice. We should stand on the side of justice with integrity and honor. No underhanded methods. No sowing discord. And we must never use the flesh and blood of the innocent to pave an easier path for ourselves."
"We must win our fight against evil with honor and integrity. With our claws and fangs, our dragon breath, our blood."
"If we resort to any means necessary, then what difference is there between us and evil?"
In Sheffield's view, employing shady means in the fight against evil could indeed reduce many constraints and maintain justice at a smaller cost.
But it also came with a price.
If one persistently seeks shortcuts and uses any means necessary, it would only blur the line between good and evil, making oneself more susceptible to the temptations of darkness, gradually falling into corruption. For this reason, he refused to adopt any insidious schemes or methods.
One who stands on the side of justice should be open and upright.
The sea breeze blew.
The brass dragon lowered his head, the corners of his mouth drooping. The cunning look on his face receded like the tide, replaced by deep shame.
"Dragon King, I was wrong."
He said in a muffled voice, "My thoughts were too insidious, not honorable enough. Please punish me."
Sheffield shook his head slightly.
"It is not your fault."
His voice softened. He reached out a claw and patted the brass dragon's shoulder, comforting him, "Like I said, this is a path destined to be extremely difficult. Everyone encounters temptations on this road, shortcuts, moments where they want to compromise."
"You are not the only one. I have had them too."
"But in the end, I firmly believe that we can always hold onto our true intentions and choose the most correct path. Even if that path is full of thorns and flames."
The Bronze Dragon King had also faltered and wavered.
When he was in the deep sea, he had thought about, once he was free, letting the two great evil dragons wear each other down and winning with minimal cost. But this thought didn't survive for more than a few seconds before he drove it from his mind.
The brass dragon's body trembled slightly.
"My king... thank you for your understanding and forgiveness."
The brass dragon's voice choked a little, but he quickly steadied himself.
"I will always stand on the front line of the fight against evil! I will carry out your will! I will never raise such ideas again, I promise you."
The fire in his eyes reignited, burning more brightly than before, more determined.
Everything has two sides.
In the eyes of dragons who had the blood of evil dragons, the Bronze Dragon King was stubborn, self-opinionated, and had an extreme personality. His sense of justice wasn't a virtue; it was more like a paranoia, a fanaticism worse than an evil dragon's.
But in the hearts of metal dragons who shared his ideals, it was completely different.
The Bronze Dragon King was a tolerant, gentle, and most worthy leader to follow and trust. He was willing to give everything for the cause of justice. In some respects, he even held more prestige than the Gold Dragon King.
At this moment, the silver dragon spoke up again, asking, "My king, who should we deal with first? The Red Calamity, or the Storm Evil Dragon?"
The Bronze Dragon King didn't answer immediately. His expression showed deep thought. His vertical pupils contracted slightly. Then, facing the direction of the Atlan continent, he gazed into the distance.
He knew this would be a crucial choice.
At this very moment, he stood at a fork in the path of fate.
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