Capacity

Name: Lucia-Sancus

Race: Ancient Dragon (Royalty)

Level: 60

Attributes: Vigor 30, Focus 15, Endurance 15, Strength 25, Dexterity 20, Intelligence 9, Faith 15, Arcane 10

Skills: Ancient Dragon Combat Art (Unranked), Storm Swordsmanship (Unranked)

Legendary Abilities: Dragonblood Inheritance (Locked), ??? (Locked)

Inside the gently jolting carriage, a boy who looked about fourteen or fifteen stared, bored out of his mind, at the data panel in his consciousness. His gaze lingered for a long time on one particular attribute that had reached a towering 9 points, then he let out a gloomy sigh.

He had long silver hair that shone like frost and snow, and clear, ice-blue eyes flickering with a faint golden glow. Judged by human standards, this body could already be called perfect.

As expected, he had transmigrated—and into the world of Elden Ring, the game he had spent the most time killing time on this year.

As a diehard Tarnished with over two thousand hours of speedrunning and quick-kill experience in his previous life, he knew the hiding place of every divine weapon in the Lands Between, every boss's openings, and even which way every small mob in every dungeon faced their head and backside... He firmly believed that if he had transmigrated into the Tarnished era that matched his expertise, he could have carved straight through the Lands Between and become Elden Lord before the falling leaves even had time to bring word!

But to his surprise, he had neither transmigrated into the right era, nor become a Tarnished—he was not even human.

It was now Year 46 of the Golden Calendar. The great Elden Ring had yet to shatter, less than half a century had passed since Marika the Eternal, supreme ruler of the Lands Between, occupied the Altus Plateau and established the Golden Dynasty, and the earth-shaking "Ancient Dragon War" between the sky city of Farum Azula and the Golden Dynasty had only ended just over ten years ago. As for that bunch of demigods who would stir up chaos in the Shattering War of later generations, most of them were still brats in their teens.

And he himself, Lucia-Sancus, only son of the Dragonlord and the Dragon God, had somehow become the only ancient dragon demigod in the present world after hatching from a "Supreme Egg" said to have lain dormant for over a thousand years. Naturally, he had also become the legal first heir to the sky city.

Under normal circumstances, being born with top-tier bloodline power and holding inheritance rights to one of the top three major forces in the world should have been the kind of overpowered protagonist start that made any transmigrator wake up laughing from their dreams. Unfortunately, this was the world of Elden Ring!

According to the historical trajectory to come, not a single demigod of the Golden Age had any precedent of living like a proper person—assassinated, exiled to the sewers, driven mad after having their feet chopped off, devoured by a giant serpent, their body burned away and their soul housed in a doll, kidnapped by a pervert in their sleep, corroded by Scarlet Rot until only one hand was left... This was clearly the world's most dangerous profession, all right!

As for this sky city he had nominally inherited, after learning to fly in ancient dragon form, Lucia had once looked down from high above at the full view of Farum Azula. Although the floating megacity had not yet deteriorated to the state it would be in during the Tarnished era, judging from its drafty, hole-riddled exterior, the fact that it could still float in the sky without falling was already a miracle.

Even more absurdly, the harsh situation Lucia faced did not end there. Less than three months after he emerged from that damned dragon egg, the sky city received a state letter from the Golden Dynasty.

The letter first fully expressed the congratulations of Her Majesty Marika the Eternal and His Majesty Radagon, Elden Lord, on Lucia's birth. Then it spent a great deal of ink emphasizing the deep friendship between the two nations over the past ten-plus years since they had turned from enemies into friends. Only at the very end did the tone shift, revealing the true purpose of the state letter—

"Their Majesties, concerned by the present state of the Dragonlord's grave wounds and slumber, and by the damage and decline of the sky city, hereby invite Prince Lucia to the royal capital, Leyndell. The golden royal family will surely provide the prince with the finest education and cultivation, as well as warmth like that of blood kin, as proof of the precious friendship between our two nations..."

If one ignored all the nonsense before and after this passage, the other side's intention was obviously extremely simple: they wanted him to go to Leyndell as a hostage prince.

And so, less than two weeks after receiving the state letter, Lucia obediently set off on the journey to the golden royal capital—this really was not because he was a coward. The current sky city simply had no right to go head-to-head with the Golden Dynasty.

Over there, they had more demigod-level powerhouses than one could count on one hand, and heroes were as common as cattle hair. As for his own side, the Dragonlord had been sleeping and recuperating in the gaps of time and space ever since that great war a thousand years ago, the mother of dragons, Greyoll, had also been asleep in Caelid since then, and the high priest of the sky temple, Gransax, had died in Leyndell thirteen years ago. The two who could truly fight—Lansseax was serving as an ancient dragon priest in Leyndell and had barely returned to the sky city in ten years, so Lucia could hardly call himself familiar with her. As for her younger brother Fortissax, he was so close to Godwyn the Golden Prince that they might as well have been wearing the same pair of pants.

In this situation, if he wanted to refuse Her Majesty the Queen's "invitation," was he supposed to rely on his measly Level 60 combat power?

Lucia shook his head, pushing aside those vexing thoughts. Whether he liked it or not, he could not escape his identity as a hostage prince for now. As an awkward existence normally used as a bargaining chip in negotiations and killed as a sacrifice to the war banner in wartime, it was more practical for him to think about how to raise his strength as quickly as possible and find a way to survive in this situation.

Just then, the carriage slowed slightly, and the sound of hoofbeats drew closer outside the window.

"Your Highness, we've reached Vania Valley. Should we make camp here for the night, or pick up the pace and travel another fifty li to rest at Vania Town ahead?" the person outside the carriage respectfully asked.

Lucia opened the carriage window. A tall drake-scaled horse was keeping pace beside the carriage, and seated on its back was a handsome youth with gray hair and red eyes. He was one of the two guard captains of the sky city's diplomatic mission—the flying dragon Ekzykes.

"Make camp here. Tomorrow morning, we'll bypass Vania Town and go straight to Kallen City ahead to rest and reorganize," Lucia answered after brief consideration.

Not long ago, he had just looked over the route ahead. A distance of fifty li was no real trouble for them, but if a foreign diplomatic mission numbering more than five hundred had to be received overnight, it would be far too difficult for the small town ahead, which had only a thousand or so people.

"Understood." Ekzykes accepted the order and rode off, relaying it to the various units in front and behind. Very soon, the procession came to an orderly halt.

The accompanying flying dragon warriors spread out around the encampment to stand guard, while the knights methodically began setting up camp. About fifteen minutes later, Lucia was already seated before the freshly pitched tent at the center of the camp. A warm bonfire burned before him, and in his hands he held the warmed wine Ekzykes had just brought over.

"So, has everything throughout the camp been settled?" Lucia looked at this young guard captain. Judging solely by the boyish appearance that seemed similar in age to his own, it was impossible to imagine that the other party was an upper-ranked flying dragon whose strength placed him among the best even among heroes.

Ekzykes bowed slightly and said, "Reporting to Your Highness: the outer defensive works have been completed. The storm knights will stand guard in three shifts through the night. Thirty flying dragon warriors have been stationed in pairs at each defensive node. Elder Merrell and Elder Atok are stationed in the east and west sections respectively to ensure the safety of the royal tent."

Listening to his highly organized report, Lucia nodded repeatedly. Only at the end did he pause slightly, then raise his head and ask, "What about Guerel?"

"Uh..." Ekzykes halted awkwardly for a moment, seeming to carefully choose his words, then said, "Captain Guerel decided to station herself atop the hill beside the camp, to ensure she can keep constant watch over the situation within more than ten li nearby."

"Oh? She didn't say anything else?" Lucia asked casually.

Ekzykes's expression froze, and he smiled wryly. "No."

Lucia smiled noncommittally, set his wine cup down on the stone slab serving as a table beside him, grabbed the drake-scaled blade at his side, and rose. "Everyone was busy for quite a while just now, while I've been sitting here resting. There's still some time before dinner, so I'll trouble you to take me around for a look. Consider it my duty as leader to inspect and offer comfort."

"Yes." Ekzykes accepted the order succinctly. Compared with the many arrogant or stubborn dragons, he had always maintained absolute respect and obedience toward this young lord.

It was evening now, and the lukewarm, dim twilight spilled down from the pale-red sky. The surface of the Vania River glittered with rippling light, and even the meadows on both banks were dyed a warm greenish gold. The two slowly walked along the temporary roads laid out within the camp. From time to time, Lucia stopped by a tent where knights were resting and casually chatted and laughed with them as if making small talk. Ekzykes, meanwhile, always kept half a step behind him, his expression strict, saying nothing.

After he had toured most of the camp, Lucia headed out of the camp on his own initiative. When they passed through the heavily guarded gate, the storm knights at the sentry post were first startled, then all struck their right fists against their breastplates, offering their lord a formal military salute.

For these knights, who originated from Stormveil, the city of storms, and later lived in the sky city for generations, serving the dragons, "storm knights" was what they were called in this period, not the "banished knights" Lucia was more familiar with.

Farther out from the camp gate, the knights and flying dragon warriors they saw were all on duty, so Lucia did not stop to chat. He merely returned their salutes in silence, then led Ekzykes out.

The two proceeded counterclockwise along the camp's perimeter. The entire camp wall had been raised from level ground by the two elders using earth-element incantations, then reinforced with a layer of rock-hardening magic, making it already comparable in sturdiness to the walls of a small city. Knights in heavy armor patrolled back and forth atop the wall with weapons in hand, constantly vigilant of any movement outside.

This level of preparation could not be considered overly cautious. Escorting a prince of one nation to another country as a "hostage prince" was already a highly sensitive political event, especially when these two countries were two colossi that had still been facing each other in war just over ten years ago. There was no telling whether some third-party faction might try to seize the opportunity and stir up trouble.

Besides, although Vania Valley was already in the heartland of the Golden Dynasty, it was still quite some distance from Altus, the dynasty's core and the region where its control was strongest. Instead, it lay almost right next to Mount Gelmir, which remained turbulent to this day. If they really did encounter some demi-human tribes causing trouble or wandering troll clans, it would hardly be unusual.

After circling past the watchtower at one corner of the camp, the hill stood to the side—tens of meters high, with a view sufficient to cover more than ten li in every direction. When they reached this point, Lucia stopped, raised a hand against the rosy light to shade his eyes, and looked up. On a huge boulder at the edge of the mountaintop sat a slender, graceful figure with legs crossed.

She was a valiant young woman with a high ponytail and two drake-scaled tachi strapped across her back. Her actual age was as young as her appearance—only, that was relative to dragons. The upper-ranked flying dragon Guerel, two hundred and sixteen years old this year, possessed strength no inferior to Ekzykes, and was also universally acknowledged as the only choice for the next generation of the sky city's council of elders.

Her eyes were half closed, letting the evening wind lift the hair at her temples, yet her body remained as still as an extension of the boulder itself. Even though Lucia and Ekzykes had come within a hundred paces, she made no response at all.

At the sight, Ekzykes could not help feeling irritated. He stepped forward and said, "Your Highness, shall I summon Captain Guerel down to receive your orders?"

"No need. Let's go." Lucia shook his head with a faint smile, withdrew his gaze from the mountaintop, and continued along the Vania River.

The calm he showed was in no way a performance for political purposes, but a genuine indifference from the heart.

Over the past three months, he had more or less figured out the current internal situation of Sky City. Ever since the "Forbidden War" a thousand years ago, a war never recorded in the histories, the Dragon King had fallen into a gravely wounded slumber, and the Dragon God's whereabouts had become unknown. Sky City's core of power had, without dispute, fallen into the hands of the high priest Gransax. Then, after Gransax died in battle thirteen years ago, the affairs large and small of the Ancient Dragon Dynasty came to be jointly decided by the two priests Lansseax and Fortissax, the Senate, and the Council of Elders.

For more than ten years, this vast web of power, composed of two priests, seven senators, and forty-eight elders, had produced countless divisions and struggles over their differing attitudes toward the Golden Dynasty, whether friendly or hostile, and had further split into numerous factions of all sizes. Among these people were no few ambitious figures who tried to control him, as well as surrenderists who regarded him as a stumbling block. A case like Guerel's could at most be considered a third kind—they were loyal to the status of an ancient dragon demigod, but had not yet truly acknowledged Lucia himself.

To these ancient, proud, stubborn dragons who revered strength, they might be willing to give their lives to defend Lucia's life and dignity, but they would never truly submit before he displayed the bearing to match his status.

"Your Highness, in that situation just now, were you truly not angry?" After they had put distance between themselves and that hill, Ekzykes could not help asking.

Lucia, walking ahead, stopped when he heard this. With his back to Ekzykes, he said, "I more or less understand Guerel's attitude. She's angry that I accepted the Golden Dynasty's invitation and agreed to go to Leyndell as a hostage, isn't she? This 'wet-behind-the-ears' prince hasn't even proven he has the qualifications to be heir to the Ancient Dragon Dynasty, yet he ignored the opposition of many elders and made an almost humiliating compromise with another nation—in her eyes, that first impression must be rotten enough, right?"

Ekzykes froze on the spot at once, suddenly at a loss. "This... Your Highness, you must not belittle yourself. The decision you made was for the greater good. Priest Lansseax, and many elders as well—"

"It's all right, Ekzykes." Lucia turned his head slightly and interrupted the youth behind him with a smile. "I was neither mocking nor criticizing anything, nor did I mean to make fun of myself."

"At the end of the day, they need me to prove certain things, and I will prove them." he said softly.