Schemes and Invitations

Walter noticed Krasus's unusual behavior, hesitated for a moment, and then tentatively asked, "Lord Krasus, you don't want to be his enemy?"

The enormous Ancient Gold Dragon remained silent and did not respond, seemingly acknowledging this.

As the Archon, Krasus was aware of everything that had happened on the Prime Material Plane. He knew that if they tried to forcibly stop the Red Dragon, the Golden Dragon might pay a heavy, irreparable price, not to mention... "Alas."

Krasus sighed, stroking his long beard with his claws, then looked into the distance with a serious expression and began to speak slowly, "It's not that I don't want to help you, it's just that... that Red Dragon's identity is just too special."

He is the only dragon in nearly ten thousand years to possess the potential to become a Dragon King, enough to shake the future fate of the dragon race. Both His Bahamut Your Majesty and the Five-Colored Dragon Queen are trying to win him over.

Krasus's words were exceptionally sincere and undisguised, with no need for pretense.

The Ancient Gold Dragon often treated mortals with indifference, regarding them as mere dust. After all, in Krasus's eyes, their lives were fleeting, disappearing in the blink of an eye.

However, Krasus showed unusual respect for this noble descendant of the gods who had once been kind to the Golden Dragon, treating him as an equal.

Walter was not angry. He remained silent for a moment, then solemnly said, "Regardless of His Your Majesty Keosius's identity, in my eyes, he is just a brutal Red Dragon who wants to occupy my land and enslave my people."

Whether you offer help or not, I will not give up.

Hearing this, Krasus shook his head with a wry smile. He rubbed his beard and did not directly respond to Walter's words. Instead, he continued, "That Red Dragon is very intelligent. He is still young and possesses extraordinary power."

Therefore, he did not easily take sides, but cleverly maintained the status quo, standing at the intersection of justice and evil, at the balance point between order and chaos, becoming part of maintaining the power balance between the Metallic Dragon and the Five-Colored Dragon.

We have discussed this issue with several elders. Keosius is not as evil as rumored, but he is certainly not a benevolent person either.

He's like a crying child, using himself as a bargaining chip. Any action we take could tip the scales to the other side, throwing him into the arms of the evil dragon, which could bring even greater catastrophe to the world.

Upon hearing these words, Walter raised his head, looked directly into Krasus's pale gold vertical pupils, and said, word by word, "Lord Krasus, I originally thought that the Golden Dragon would take it upon itself to stop all the Five-Colored Dragon from committing crimes. Now it seems that I was somewhat naive."

Hearing Walter's pointed words, which were almost blatantly sarcastic, the Ancient Gold Dragon was not angry. He maintained a calm expression and gently tapped the ground with the scepter in his claws.

Instantly, scenes of catastrophe—the sky ablaze and the earth cracking—appeared before Walter, and the cries and screams of humanity echoed in his ears.

In the sky, a gigantic dragon phantom with five differently colored heads grinned menacingly, its wings Sky-Shading.

"This is."

Walter was somewhat taken aback.

"Walter, you are a hero. You should pledge allegiance to His Bahamut Your Majesty and fight against the impending catastrophe that may affect the entire Material Plane."

My friend, stop dwelling on a war destined to be lost. From that moment three years ago, the Holy Fadlan you served was utterly destroyed.

"No."

Walter gritted his teeth and said heavily.

"As long as I exist, as long as people remember the glory of the past, the Holy Fadlan will never perish."

Wherever the sunlight reaches.

A flicker of hesitation crossed his eyes, but he resolutely shook his head, gripping the greatsword tightly, veins bulging on the back of his hand. "All of this belongs to—the Empire!"

"Lord Krasus, I apologize, but I must return to the Material Plane, to North Aisel. The future you speak of is far too distant. All I know for now is that I must continue to fight for the Fadlanites."

Krasus sighed helplessly, looking at Walter with a gaze that was a mixture of pity and awe.

He admired the loyalty and courage of this Fadlan descendant, but he was too fixated on chasing after the fleeting illusions of the past.

The enormous Ancient Gold Dragon slowly stood up, spread its broad golden wings, and looked down at Walter.

"Walter, your character is enough to satisfy even the most discerning benevolent god, and I will always remember your kindness to the Golden Dragon."

Although I do not support your actions, I will consider your demands at the Gold Dragon Council and make them a matter to be addressed at the meeting. Perhaps some of your own kind will lend you a helping hand.

Walter's face lit up with joy, and he bowed and thanked him, "Thank you very much, Lord Krasus. I shall take my leave now."

He also knew that mobilizing the entire Golden Dragon was obviously unrealistic. Even bringing in one or two Golden Dragon would be a great help. Krasus had already done more than enough.

Krasus simply turned around and said softly, in a voice only he could hear, "Walter, my friend, I hope you'll still be alive decades from now."

The Ugo Great Prairie in the northeastern part of the Feanso Continent.

Here lies an endless expanse of grassland, carpeted in the purest gray-green. From time to time, a cold wind blows, causing the grass to ripple like waves.

"Waaah—"

The long howl echoed through the sky, mingling with the howling wind, creating an atmosphere of endless desolation.

In the distance, the silhouettes of several Worg appeared and disappeared in the wind, these terrifying beasts galloping across the grassland like ghosts.

On the backs of the Worg are orcs wielding Short Bow and long spears, clad in wild animal pelts; these are the most common light cavalry in the tribe— the Dire Wolf Cavalry.

Just then, a piercing sound came from afar.

"Whoosh—"

The arrows, gleaming with light, pierced the cold wind, cutting through hundreds of meters of space, heading straight for the Dire Wolf Cavalry.

"Ah."

A short scream rang out, and a bloody hole appeared between the eyebrows of an orc cavalryman. He fell straight off the back of the Worg and fell silent.

On a hillside several hundred meters away, Rhea remained calm and composed, her gaze serene, as if the enemy's death were a trivial matter.

The Half-elf was wearing light armor but no helmet. He simply tied up his long, pale golden hair neatly, which made him look quite capable.

"The seventy-eighth."

She spoke softly, then drew an arrow from behind her back, raised her silver longbow again, and casually aimed at the enemy in the distance.

"Whoosh—"

Another silver beam pierced through the air, precisely striking the orc's forehead and sending him to the Nishrek Kingdom of Gruumsh.

"Boss, that's an Elf archer! She seems to be alone, and she's already killed quite a few of our brothers."

Damn it!

"Cowards! You cowards! A disgrace to the Father God! You are not even as lowly Goblin, yet you are frightened by a Elf. We have hundreds of us, enough to chop her into mincemeat!"

The orc cavalry leader was furious. He blew his bone whistle and began to gather his men, preparing to surround and kill the Elf.

Just then, that familiar voice rang out again. The orc who had just delivered the message was caught off guard and fell off the back of the Worg, rolling several times on the ground.

"Watch out! Her arrows are very accurate!"

"Follow me! Surround her from all sides, kill her, and sacrifice that guy's pointy ears to the Father God!"

The orcs coordinated quite skillfully. After the order was given, more than thirty Dire Wolf Cavalry were nearby surrounded them from different directions.

"Go to hell, pointy ears!"

"The orcs will eventually take back everything!"

They raised their spears and roared incessantly, creating a noisy and chaotic sound.

"Ha, they actually delivered themselves to our doorstep."

Rhea showed no fear, her expression remaining cold and even revealing a slightly mocking smile. She simply and slowly put away her longbow and drew her silver sword from her waist.

The Half-elf's eyes shone brightly; as a vengeful Paladin, she could see the sins that clung to these orc cavalrymen: they had burned, killed, and looted, wantonly destroying a once peaceful Dwarf village for a few pieces of bread.

From the orcs' perspective, they might be heroes who saved their tribe and brought back precious food, allowing emaciated women and crying children to have enough to eat. But from the Half-elf's perspective—

A villain, an unforgivable villain.

Rhea's eyes sharpened. She held the silver sword tightly across her hand, placing it against her chest, and softly recited her former vow. "Show no mercy to the wicked!"

"Whoosh—"

In an instant, a silver light flashed in front of her, and a ring of light blades rapidly spread outwards from her, displaying the color of the afterglow of a setting sun, like a fierce storm.

Everything that blocked the path of the light blades—whether it was grass, trees, orcs, Worg, or even the dust in the air—was neatly cut in two.

Instantly, orc blood splattered in mid-air, and their severed limbs flew everywhere, staining the yellow-green grassland with bloodstains.

"Yes, it's her. It's definitely her!"

"Quick! Retreat! That pointy-eared one is Rhea, the Orc Butcher!"

Seeing the horrific scene, the orc cavalry leader trembled violently, even his hand holding the spear shook so badly that he almost dropped his weapon.

Upon hearing the name "Orc Butcher," almost all the orc cavalrymen screamed in terror. Without hesitation, they turned their wolves around and fled in the opposite direction one after another.

"Walk!"

"Don't look back!"

"Damn it, what bad luck! I had to run into her!"

For months, this Half-elf Paladin had been roaming the Ugo Prairie, killing thousands of orc Fighter and striking fear into their hearts.

Rhea earned the fearsome title of "Orc Butcher" by wielding her silver sword, even forcing the Orc Chieftain to make an exception that allowed people to run away if they encountered Rhea.

Rhea sneered and was about to continue the pursuit when a mixed whistling and roaring sound came from the distant horizon.

Upon hearing the sound, the orc cavalry leader turned pale and trembled violently. Even the Worg beneath him instinctively tucked its tail and let out a fearful whimper.

"This is... the Golden Reaper."

The orc uttered that forbidden name in a trembling voice, his face filled with disbelief.

It is said that when such a roar is heard, things are already beyond saving, and the orc's life is about to come to an end.

He looked up in despair and saw a golden figure appear high in the sky, growing larger and larger in his eyes until it enveloped him.

"Boom!"

The orc chieftain's vision was filled with scorching dragonfire. He looked down and saw his own body crackling and burning, about to melt—this was the last thing he saw before he died.

And so, the dragon that the orcs called the "Golden Reaper" swept across the grassland, swooping down from the sky and burning all the remaining orcs on the grassland to ashes with its scorching dragon flames.

The Ancient Gold Dragon circled in the sky a few times, letting out a powerful roar, before crashing down onto the slope, causing the earth to tremble slightly.

"Good day, Titus, you are still as powerful as ever."

Rhea sheathed her silver sword, bowed respectfully, and spoke in a cool yet respectful tone.

The enormous Golden Dragon folded its wings and looked at the Half-elf with its pale golden vertical pupils, then nodded slightly. "Good day, Ms. Rhea, you've made quite a name for yourself on the Ugo Prairie lately."

Rhea calmly replied, "Titus, compared to your contributions, this is nothing at all. I was merely doing my best to rid the world of evil."

To be honest, without your help, we probably wouldn't have been able to defeat that Orc Chieftain.

Golden Dragon walked over with elegant and light steps, and said with a smile, "Rhea, there's no need to be so formal. We've been comrades-in-arms for a long time."

Rhea smiled and nodded slightly, "I must say, it is truly an honor for me to fight alongside someone like Ancient Gold Dragon and to have your friendship."

Titus gazed into the distance, seemingly asking meaningfully, "Rhea, where will you go after the orc issue is resolved?"

"Of course, I'll go back to Serenia. Her Majesty Catherine is still waiting for me."

"You want to stage a coup and help that queen regain power?"

Rhea did not deny it, but rather said quite frankly, "The Senate's corrupt rule has lasted for too long and is already on the verge of collapse. They are just a group of leeches that depend on Human Noble and suck blood from the Sacred Tree."

Only the Elven Queen can lead Serenia to establish a new order, restore the dignity of the Elf, and move towards a brighter future.

Titus turned to look at the Half-elf and said earnestly, "Rhea, if you need my help, I would be happy to lend a hand. This world needs more rulers who follow the path of justice, such as Her Majesty Catherine."

Rhea raised her head and said solemnly, "Your Titus, on behalf of Queen Catherine and the hundreds of thousands of Elf people of Serenia, I would like to express my heartfelt gratitude to you."

"Aww—"

Just then, a familiar, slightly shrill dragon roar came from afar.

Titus looked up and saw a slender, rather small Golden Dragon gracefully flying towards him—it was Aurora, the young female Golden Dragon from the Eternal Order Realm Aurora.

She was panting and called out anxiously in the Draconic.

"Senior Titus! Senior Titus!"

"The Gold Dragon Conference is about to be held, and the teacher specifically asked me to inform you. You can't be absent this time."

Seeing the two Golden Dragon discussing clan affairs, Rhea tactfully said, "Titus, since you have other matters to attend to, I will take my leave and not disturb your conversation."

"Good."

After the Half-elf left, Titus, or rather Keosius, gazed at the young Golden Dragon flying towards them in the distance and murmured, "The Gold Dragon Council..."

A hint of amusement shone through his pale golden vertical pupils.