The End

Ingrid Garcés stood on the battlefield, clutching the scepter, her expression tense, her voluptuous body, wrapped in a pure white robe, trembling in the cold wind.

"On Amanata."

Ingrid whispered the name of God, seeking some solace in it.

Surrounding her were four tall, golden, humanoid armored figures, spirit guardians summoned by her divine spell [Devout Guardian], capable of holding off armies of thousands.

However, these guards could not give her even the slightest sense of security, because Ingrid knew that the terrible Red Dragon could return at any moment.

Suddenly, as if sensing something, Ingrid looked up in terror.

The surrounding space began to fluctuate violently.

"Sizzle—"

The two claws tore through space as if shredding paper, creating terrifying cracks with flames burning at their edges.

Immediately afterwards, the Red Dragon's huge, ferocious head emerged from it, its pale golden pupils looking down at her with a faint hint of a smile.

The almost tangible dragon's might filled the surroundings, and the huge shadow blocked the sunlight that was falling on her, making Ingrid instinctively want to escape, but she was unable to move at all due to the pressure.

Keosius spread his wings and said, "Your companion survived from my clutches, but he and the forces behind him paid a heavy price."

"And what price are you willing to pay?"

"Me, me"

Ingrid was speechless for a moment, but finally answered timidly.

"I am Honorary Bishop of the Fadlan Empire Church; the Empire should help me."

This Legendary Cleric did not fabricate the lie of the so-called "Chosen One" because she had personally witnessed how Desk Flamegold died because of the lie.

Red Dragon hates people who deceive him.

Keosius asked, feigning surprise, "The Empire?"

"Don't you know?"

"Your old emperor is dead, your Fadlan Empire has shattered into hundreds of pieces, and your dear gods are probably too busy to care about anything else—who would care about a mere Honorary Bishop?"

"Wh-what?"

Ingrid was struck dumb. She stood there, Big Mouth, her hand trembling as she held the Sun God Scepter.

She grew up in the capital of the Fadlan Empire. At the age of eight, she was chosen Cleric of the Amanata Church because of her excellent affability. By the age of twenty-five, she had been promoted to Legendary Cleric and became Honorary Bishop.

Throughout this process, the empire has always been her strong support, sheltering her from the storms of life.

Now, facing a seemingly invincible enemy, she no longer has the protection of the empire behind her, and she herself is in dire straits, facing a choice between life and death.

"I... I don't want to provoke you."

"Can you let me go?"

Ingrid felt extremely wronged, and her voice even carried a hint of a sob.

She chose to tell the truth and immediately begged for forgiveness.

Keosius lowered his head and grinned slightly:

"I know you're the only one on this team who's kept your head up, but that doesn't mean anything."

"Let me ask you again—what price are you willing to pay?"

As the Red Dragon lowered its head, Ingrid could feel the scorching air rushing towards her, along with the smell of sulfur.

Perhaps the next moment, the Red Dragon will open its mouth and devour her.

"Me, me"

At that moment, Ingrid thought of surrendering.

However, she is already a legendary Cleric, and if she easily changes her faith and submits to a specific being, she is very likely to be Divine Punishment.

Keosius raised his head again and said calmly, "Thirty years—I want you to stay in my kingdom for thirty years. Your divine magic can serve the Fadlan Empire, and naturally it can also serve the Embers of the Burned Kingdom."

He paused, a smug smile spreading across his face.

"Moreover, my kingdom does not reject any faith; even believers of the Fadlanites and Amanata can become Kingdom Citizen."

"Perhaps, in the near future, you will be able to return to your homeland openly, not as a prisoner, but as a bishop of the church belonging to the kingdom."

"This"

Ingrid's expression changed drastically; she understood the implication in Keosius's words.

That was the Fadlan Empire, which had dominated the Feanso Continent for a thousand years, and whose magical power far surpassed that of Anzeta. Yet, the Red Dragon was actually eyeing and coveting such a behemoth!

But now, her life is in the hands of the other party, and her chance of survival is fleeting.

She bit her lip lightly, her golden eyes filled with complex emotions, but she still made her decision.

"Greetings, Your Majesty Keosius."

Ingrid braced herself on her scepter and performed a standard audience with the king.

In that instant of bowing her head, a flood of emotions, including guilt and remorse, overwhelmed Ingrid. She was a genius who had grown up in the Imperial Church and served as Cleric in Amanata for her entire life, yet she was now serving a kingdom ruled by dragons! But she kept telling herself—at least I survived, didn't I?

"Very good."

"Ingrid, as a legendary Light Cleric, you should know the magic to Control Weather, right?"

"Yes, Your Majesty."

"Then let this sky shine again."

That's what Keosius said.

After such a long battle, even he was somewhat exhausted, and he didn't want to cast the spell himself.

After this protracted battle, the land has been ravaged and has lost its original appearance.

On the desolate wasteland riddled with holes, there were broken shrapnel, mountains of corpses, flowing rivers of blood, charred and re-solidified lava, and Ice Mountain about to melt.

The wide Inaki River and Oryol River were also stained red with blood, and severed limbs floated on their surface from time to time.

It was already evening, and the sky was getting dark.

Even the sunset was gradually fading away, about to blend into the night, while the biting cold wind was still howling.

"Call--"

The allied forces' mood was as dark and desperate as the sky, and even more so, filled with anxiety.

A suffocating atmosphere permeated the allied forces; their ranks were deathly silent, and no one dared to look at the distant Red Dragon.

These Northern Nobles witnessed firsthand how the legendary "Embers of the Burned King" defeated the Ancient Silver Dragon on which they had placed their hopes, and then killed the legendary adventurers they had recruited at great expense.

Even the "hero" who stepped forward, Grand Duke Leo, has disappeared.

"I wander with the north wind."

Somewhere, desolate and sorrowful songs echoed across the battlefield.

That is the "Song of the North," a ballad said to have originated when the Scania People fled to Anzeta. Later, whenever the White Dragon and Frost Giant invaded and people were displaced, the resilient people of the the North would always sing this ballad.

"Snow covers my body, and my beloved cannot recognize my face."

Viscount Luton joined in the humming, gazing at the ravaged land with a sorrowful expression on his face.

He knew that the the North, or rather the Northern United Kingdom, was about to perish.

That was an invincible enemy.

It is absolutely beyond human capability to match.

That Red Dragon was clearly the embodiment of natural disaster, Punishment from fate, and a chasm of the gods against their corrupt rule.

Suddenly, Viscount Luton looked up at the sky, his Big Mouth in disbelief, as did the other Northern Nobles who were still grieving.

Because it's dawn.