Mochuria and a Plea for Aid

The dimensional form of Mount Paradise is exceptionally wondrous, with an incredibly majestic mountain range rising from a truly boundless ocean, and each of its layers arranged in the order of the mountain's shape, totaling seven layers.

Here, justice, kindness, order, grace, and mercy are the eternal rules; vigilant eyes stand firm Contend Against all forms of evil; and all things reveal boundless beauty.

With each level ascended, the visitor's soul is refined and elevated; only kind souls can climb the Mount Paradise.

Upon reaching the very top of Mount Paradise, even the most benevolent and lawful beings will dissolve into the supreme goodness of this level, sacrificing their individual consciousness for glory—it is said that many Greater God deities reside here, but no one can confirm this.

"Whoosh—"

With pristine white wings unfurled, Divine Descendant Warriors clad in silver armor and radiating light soared into the air, wielding a greatsword as he rapidly ascended the Holy Mountain.

—He is Walter Graham, Angel Divine Descendant from the Material Plane. He has just delivered his token at Star Fortress and received help from the "messenger" Barachiel.

Now, his target is the second level of Mount Paradise, Mochuria.

In the Silver Heaven filled with the Subspace God Race, Walter wasn't particularly conspicuous; many more angels were flapping their wings and striving upwards.

Soon, accompanied by the whistling wind, he passed through Lucia's dark night sky.

"Whoosh—"

Instantly, golden light shone on his face, evaporating the evil and sins he had accumulated in the Material Plane.

Walter instinctively raised his greatsword and held it above his head like an umbrella to shield himself from the overly intense light that made him uncomfortable.

But soon, bathed in the light, he blankly put down the greatsword, closed his eyes, and felt everything. His tightly furrowed brows unconsciously relaxed, and even his soul was Purification.

"It feels so familiar."

This golden glow reminded him of the once-powerful Fadlan Empire decades ago, where he had felt the same intense and warm sunlight during his Ascension Ritual.

Walter opened his eyes. He was much calmer now, and the anger in his heart had completely dissipated.

He looked around at this unfamiliar plane and muttered to himself, "Finally here, Mochuria."

The second level of Mount Paradise, Mochuria.

The air here is thin yet full of hope, and golden light shines on everything, which is why it is called "Golden Heaven" by pilgrims.

Here, the hillsides are flat, the streams are swift, and there is lush vegetation everywhere. The highlands and passes provide ample living space for the Subspace God Race, the Gaitin Celestial Race, and other benevolent creatures.

Mochuria boasts a vast and magnificent mausoleum complex where the noblest Fighter find eternal rest, while the inhabitants of paradise sing praises of their glorious deeds on an annual Day of Remembrance.

Armories and parade grounds used by the Subspace God Race are spread throughout the entire plane, and Mount Paradise is used to summon troops when needed. The Protoss army often gathers and trains on this plane.

Bahamut's palace is also located here—which is Walter's destination this time.

Since his opponent is a Five-Colored Dragon, and the most powerful of them all is the Red Dragon, seeking help from the Metallic Dragon who opposes it is undoubtedly a good choice.

Walter spread his pure white wings and flapped them, soaring at full speed through the sky. After an unknown amount of time, he finally saw the palace in the distance.

Above the rolling clouds stood a magnificent, golden temple. Its windows were jewels inlaid in gold and silver, its walls were inlaid with copper and jade, and even its floor was refined mithril.

Metallic Dragon rings of Golden Dragon, Silver Dragon, Bronze Dragon, and Brass Dragon stood guard at the palace entrance, while countless benevolent Dragonkin fluttered about, and armored Dragonborn Paladin stood watch all around.

Even Walter, who had conquered the multiverse and was very knowledgeable, had never seen such a luxurious and magnificent palace.

He was stunned and exclaimed from the bottom of his heart, "Is this the Temple of Bahamut? It's incredible!"

At the same time, he secretly rejoiced, thinking that if he could get help from someone of this level, he would definitely be able to defeat the Red Dragon.

Walter folded his wings and, using his greatsword for support, knelt respectfully on one knee in the clouds.

He raised his head with a resolute expression and called out loudly, "Honorable and mighty Lord of the North Wind! I, Walter Graham, descendant of the Holy Fadlan, Duke of North Aisel, beseech you to bestow your assistance!"

Walter gazed intently at the distant palace, his eyes burning with intensity, flames seemingly dancing in his golden pupils.

"Whoosh—"

"This is."

Walter looked surprised, and a gust of cold wind swept up from beneath his feet, lifting the nobleman of divine lineage into the air.

Immediately afterwards, the cold wind shot straight into the sky, carrying Walter toward the temple high above the clouds.

The Dragonborn Paladin and Dragonkin along the way politely gave way, as did the gold and Silver Dragon Golden Dragon guarding the entrance, because they knew that the cold wind represented Bahamut's will.

The golden gate, engraved with Holy Symbol, slowly opened, and the cold wind carried Walter into the hall, allowing him to step onto the floor made of refined mithril.

In this hall filled with treasures, glittering gold and jewels, Walter stared intently at the ground, feeling somewhat nervous, afraid of unintentionally offending this benevolent dragon god.

Bahamut did not reveal himself, but his solemn and dignified voice echoed in the hall.

"So you are a descendant of the Holy Fadlan who, despite experiencing such a calamity, were able to maintain your pure and good soul, untainted by evil. You are quite remarkable."

"Walter Graham, would you settle on Mount Paradise and become my servant?"

Walter paused for a moment, then knelt on the floor and quickly bowed, replying, "Your Bahamut Your Majesty, I am honored to receive your praise. To be a follower of such a glorious and great being as you is an absolute honor."

However, I have my own responsibilities in the Material Plane, and hundreds of thousands of people in Fadlan are waiting for me, so I regret that I cannot comply.

His answer was firm and resolute, his voice as hard as steel.

Bahamut's voice seemed a little more distant, yet still quite gentle and calm. "A guest from afar, so—what brings you here?"

Upon hearing the deity's inquiry, Walter's face lit up with joy, and he quickly replied, "Your Bahamut Your Majesty, my territory is threatened by invaders from the north, so I wish to request your assistance."

As for my enemy, you should have heard of this name— Keosius Klauberwu Norikesius, a brutal and ambitious Red Dragon who has built a vast empire in the north and is eyeing the homeland of Fadlan.

I suspect he's involved in the Five-Colored Dragon Queen's conspiracy, and I hope you can lend a hand to help us repel the invaders.

Bahamut's voice held a hint of hesitation. "I admire your commitment to justice, but... I cannot offer you direct assistance."

I follow the teachings of the world's will and believe that deities cannot arbitrarily interfere in the affairs of the Material Plane. This is merely a war among mortals and has nothing to do with the Five-Colored Dragon Queen.

Hearing this response, Walter was somewhat disappointed, but he still said respectfully, "Thank you for your hospitality, Your Majesty. I will not disturb you any longer."

The people in my territory, the Fighter under my command, are still anxiously awaiting me.

"Good."

"Whoosh—"

Bahamut did not respond again, and another whirlwind blew in, instantly sweeping Walter out of the palace.

Walter gazed at the distant palace, but he was not disheartened. Instead, he spread his wings once more.

This request for help was just an attempt. Although the God of Good Dragons could not provide him with direct assistance, the Metallic Dragon who pursued order and justice could, and the Gold Dragon Council, which he had helped before, was the best choice.

Deep within Bahamut's palace, in the main hall that spans tens of thousands of hectares, lies an everlasting treasure trove, along with the remains of thousands of audacious thieves.

This is Bahamut's abode, usually accompanied by seven loyal and powerful Primal Metallic Dragon.

"He was a decent mortal, brave and kind, almost meeting all my requirements, but unfortunately—he embarked on a path that was destined to fail."

A platinum-gold dragon, long and winding, lay coiled on the throne. Its size far exceeded the comprehension of ordinary people, resembling a majestic mountain.

His entire body was covered in silvery-white scales that reflected a beautiful radiance, and his deep eyes were a grayish-blue like the heart of an glacier—this was Bahamut, the Platinum Dragon King, Lord of the North Wind, and God of Good Dragons.

A massive Silver Dragon, crouching at his feet and clutching a scepter in its claws, asked in bewilderment, "Your Majesty, do you mean..."

"Holy Fadlan is dead—it has no chance of being reborn ever since that presumptuous mortal chose to walk that path."

Without the help of the Sun God, it would be nothing short of a pipe dream for these mortals, who are gradually losing their power, to rebuild the Holy Fadlan.

The Ancient Gold Dragon casually picked up a crystal ball placed beside it, gazing at the image of Walter soaring in the sky within it, and said hesitantly, "But... Your Majesty, if that Red Dragon really goes south, won't it cause an irreversible catastrophe to the Material Plane?"

"Keosius is indeed a difficult fellow to control. Although he has the potential to become the Dragon King, he could also turn to the other side at any time."

Bahamut spoke slowly, and countless complex images immediately appeared in his blue vertical pupils.

Heaven, Elysium, the Beastlands, the Baator, the Abyss. Those deep eyes seemed to encompass all the Outer Plane within them.

"This is a last resort. It's much better to let a Dragons Ruling the Earth than to let the devil, the demon, and the Dragon Queen take advantage of the situation."

The Platinum Dragon stood up and spread its incredibly wide wings. "That mortal Walter was not wrong."

The Material Plane today can no longer accommodate a pure idealist.

Mochuria, the Glorious Residence, is the residence of every elected Gold Dragon Executive Officer. Inside it is an Astral Plane Color Pool that leads to the Gold Dragon Council in the Material Plane.

This luxurious mansion is made of solid metal and inlaid with gems and pearls everywhere, even its walls are plated with gold.

At the entrance of the mansion stood several young Golden Dragon clad in armor. They were all devout followers of Bahamut and were known by the dragons as "Axiom Guardian".

The current Gold Dragon Executive Officer is an Ancient Gold Dragon Krasus, who has served for six hundred years and enjoys extremely high prestige. He is revered by benevolent dragons as the "Gilded Sage".

Every century, this highly respected Gold Dragon Executive Officer would travel to the Material Plane to convene a meeting of Golden Dragon from all over the world to elect the next ruler and discuss and handle important matters.

Decades ago, Walter saved an Ancient Gold Dragon, for which the Gold Dragon Council owed him a favor, and Krasus had also made him a solemn promise.

"Stop, mortal."

At the entrance of the Glorious Residence, two Golden Dragon Guards stood in front of Walter, their metallic wings spread wide, their expressions haughty and indifferent.

Holding his greatsword, Walter stood firm and shouted in a resolute voice, "Lord Krasus, do you remember me? I am your friend and an ally recognized by the Golden Dragon Clan— Walter Graham from Holy Fadlan."

"Let him in."

The deep tone, like the sound of an ancient bell, allows one to feel the sedimentation of life and the baptism of time just by listening to it.

"Yes, Lord Krasus."

The two Golden Dragon Guards bowed their heads respectfully and obediently retreated to the sides.

Walter walked briskly along the road, which seemed excessively wide to humans, and soon arrived at the depths of the mansion, where the Gold Dragon Executive Officer revealed himself.

—It was an enormous Golden Dragon with a short face covered in thorns on its nose, two large, matte, metallic horns on its head, and dozens of whiskers around its mouth that looked like a beard.

The Ancient Gold Dragon also has very narrow, deep eyes; its pale golden pupils are like faded gold, exuding an aura of age.

The eyes and whiskers give this Golden Dragon an exceptionally wise appearance. The platinum crown on its head and the scepter carved with milky white nebulae and the Polar Star in its claws endow it with a noble air.

This is the current Gold Dragon Executive Officer, the powerful Ancient Gold Dragon, known as the "Gilded Sage" Krasus.

Krasus gazed at the divine offspring not far away with his pale golden eyes, seemingly having waited for a long time. He calmly spoke, "Long time no see, Walter. My friend, what brings you here?"

Walter gazed at the Golden Dragon and felt that Golden Dragon looked exactly the same as it had decades ago.

He gave a helpless bitter smile, and then said, "Lord Krasus, I have no other choice but to ask you—or more accurately, the Golden Dragon Clan—for help."

Krasus seemed to have expected this; he remained calm and asked indifferently, "Who is your enemy?"

"Keosius".

Walter answered truthfully, but he could clearly feel that the Ancient Gold Dragon in front of him paused in his breathing when he uttered that name.