The black dragon descended from the sky.
When he folded his wings, he set off a gust of wind, which swept the gravel and dead leaves on the ground into the air, spun around a few times, and then slowly fell back down.
Selivis·Guo Guogong, one of the few ancient black dragons on this continent, stood in an open space on the edge of Forbidden Land, lowered his head and saluted the red dragon lying not far away.
Valerirus is slightly larger than the Protector, and its scales are darker in color, like aged red wine that has been sleeping in the cellar for hundreds of years.
There was a newly healed scar on his left wing, extending from the middle of the wing membrane to the tip of the wing. His eyes were half-open, looking at the direction where the Protector landed.
"Your Majesty." The Protector's voice was low and hoarse, with an awkward tone that he had been accustomed to for hundreds of years, but at this moment he suddenly didn't know what tone to use.
"No, Selivis, you should call me Governor." Valerirus's voice was very calm, as calm as if he was talking about something that had nothing to do with him.
The Protector was silent for a moment. "Yes, Your Excellency the Governor."
A slight wind blew from the depths of Forbidden Land, bringing with it a damp, rotten smell, as if something died inside a long time ago and never came out.
The Protector's nose twitched slightly, Valerirus noticed it, but he didn't say anything.
"Then, what happened?" Lord Protector asked. He knew that the emperor had been beaten, that the throne had been changed, and that the new emperor was a golden dragon with three heads and an edgeless size.
But the version that came out of Valerirus's mouth was different from the version sent by the intelligence agency, Senate's official documents, and the rumors on the streets. He wanted to hear Valerirus himself say it.
"It's very simple. Caesar His Majesty's bodyguard beat me away, so he is the new emperor."
Valerirus's tone was still calm, so calm that the Protector was not sure if he was joking.
He looked at the newly healed scar on Valerirus's left wing and couldn't help laughing.
Selivis knows that the wound has healed. He is a black dragon, and his healing ability is stronger than the red dragon. But what he cares about is not the wound, but the process.
The order of Dragons is to respect the strong. Red Dragon Emperor lost to a more powerful existence and the throne changed hands. This is the rule of Dragons. You only need to accept it.
But isn't that process too simple?
He thought that the old red dragon could live for at least another thousand years, and that the throne of the empire would sit peacefully on Red Dragon Emperor's head for another thousand years.
Red Dragon Emperor will not fail. Red Dragon Emperor is irreplaceable. Red Dragon Emperor is the symbol of Vagrian and the reason why this country has existed for more than a thousand years.
"Several of your heirs have heard about this and are rushing to the capital." The Protector's tone was very calm, but he knew what the news meant.
The Dragon Princes, the children Valerirus gave birth to to different spouses in different eras, each inherited the blood of their father, and each had their own territory and their own ambitions.
They didn't dare to make trouble when the emperor was alive, but the emperor is gone. Now that he is gone, the throne is occupied by a golden three-headed dragon that appears out of nowhere.
Valerirus's eyes narrowed, not with anger, but with the helplessness of "I knew it would be like this".
"Go and watch them, don't let them do stupid things."
"Yes." Lord Protector lowered his head and paused, "Your Excellency, is there anything else I can do?"
Valerirus thought about it for a long time. "Go back and assist His Majesty in governing Vagrian."
"Yes." said the Protector, spreading his wings and flying, hovering in the air and flying towards the capital.
Valerirus watched the Protector's figure getting smaller and smaller, until he turned into a blurry black dot and disappeared into the gray-blue skyline. Then he turned his head and looked at Forbidden Land.
Forbidden Land is still very quiet, the seals are still very stable, and nothing has escaped from them. At least not yet.
To be honest, he was not particularly angry about the fact that His Majesty Caesar stole his throne.
Except for that stupid black dragon with no eyes that beat him away when it came up - that dragon struck too hard, and the injury on his left wing has not fully healed yet, and it will still hurt after flying for a long time.
But that is the matter of his subordinates, not the emperor's. Caesar His Majesty did not take action personally, which shows that His Majesty felt that he was not worthy of letting him do it himself. This is not a shame.
Being looked down upon by someone who is stronger than you is not called humiliation, it is called positioning. He has lived for so many years, and he no longer cares about this kind of thing.
Valerirus lay down, rested his chin on his overlapping front paws, and squinted his eyes to look at Forbidden Land in front of him.
The fog at Forbidden Land never dissipates. Even on the clearest days, a layer of gray-white fog hangs over that area.
He thought it was probably a thousand years ago. He was still young at that time - for Dragons, "young" is a relative concept.
He had lived for thousands of years at that time, but in Dragons's life cycle, he was more in the prime of life.
The serious injury he suffered was while exploring an ancient ruins. He didn't know what was sleeping in the ruins. He just smelled an aura that he had never smelled before and was so old that it made him instinctively feel uneasy. He should have withdrawn, but he didn't.
Curiosity killed the dragon.
He was hit by some kind of defense mechanism, and an almost fatal wound was torn open from his chest to his left wing. Blood gushes out from the wound, evaporates in the air, and turns into dark red mist.
He didn't know how he flew out. He only remembered the wind whistling past his ears and the ground tilting, rotating, and turning upside down in his field of vision.
He fell somewhere, not by his deliberate choice, but because his body could no longer hold on, his wings stopped flapping, and he just fell.
It is the resting place of a god.
Valerirus was lying there, the wound was bleeding, and life was draining away.
He looked at the sky. The sky was lavender. It was not black at night or blue during the day. It was the kind of lavender that appears before sunrise and after sunset, when the sun is still below the horizon but the light has already filled the sky.
It was beautiful, but he felt like he was going to die.
Then He came.
No, it's not "come", it's "wake up".
Part of his consciousness raised his head from his long slumber and sensed the vitality and passing temperature in the intruder's blood.
He healed his injuries and injected a bit of His power into his body. The power was not much, but it was enough for Valerirus to take him a step further.
He recovered from his serious injuries, and since then his dragon's breath has become more intense and his scales stronger.
Then He said, "Go... fulfill your clan's covenant..."
Valerirus agreed.
He told him that the place was in the east, in a valley surrounded by mountains, where there was sealed an existence that even He in his heyday could not completely eliminate.
He could only use his remaining power to suppress that existence there and wait for time to slowly wear it away. Valerirus asked how long it would take, and He said he didn't know.
Maybe it's thousands of years, maybe tens of thousands of years, maybe forever.
He flew to that Forbidden Land and found a small country near Forbidden Land.
The country is not big, the population is not large, and many races live together here. They support their king and live a life free from competition with the world.
Valerirus did not expel them or enslave them, he stayed there. He brought his fellow tribesmen and dependents to this land, used his power to protect this country, and used his majesty to frighten the enemies who coveted this land.
He became emperor, not because he wanted to be, but because the king of that country knelt in front of him and said, "Please protect us, your majesty" after seeing him repelling the invaders.
With his strength, the country does not have to worry about foreign enemies at all. Those neighboring countries that covet the empire's territory will retreat on their own after seeing the shadow of Red Dragon Emperor. There is no need to fight.
There was no internal trouble, because he did not dare. The people of the empire loved him, not because he was a good emperor, but because he was a powerful emperor.
Being strong is enough. Being big means being safe, being safe means being able to survive, and being able to survive means that nothing else matters.
But now, His Majesty Caesar makes him feel more at ease. Judging from the fact that he can let himself go and continue to serve as governor, the other party is a broad-minded emperor.
In other words, he has absolute confidence in his own strength, so confident that he doesn't care if an old red dragon who has snatched the throne from him will do something behind his back.
Because he knows that even small tricks are useless. His men can take care of you without him having to do it himself.
This is a good thing for Valerirus. It means that the future of this country will not be too bad. With such a strong person in charge, no foreign enemies will dare to come, and no one will dare to stir up trouble internally.
Peace will continue, prosperity will continue, and those living inside and outside the city walls can continue to live and work in peace and contentment.
Forbidden Land is still sealed, and Evil God is still sleeping. Now he only needs to guard Forbidden Land and wait for time to slowly wear away that existence.
It is very clean, no one will disturb him, there will be no more piles of documents, no more quarrels between nobles for him to adjudicate, and no more issues of succession to the throne for him to worry about.
When you are free, you can call Selivis to chat with him, and occasionally fly back to the capital to see what the empire he has governed for thousands of years has become.
Valerirus squinted his eyes and remembered what happened a long time ago.
That happened so long ago that he could no longer remember the specific year. He could only remember some vague fragments - the golden wheat field, the sunset, his mother, and the wind.
He is still a baby dragon. His scales are light red, like the petals of a peach blossom in early spring, not as deep as they are now. His wings are not strong enough, so he has to stop and rest after flying for a while.
His mother took him flying over a wheat field. The wheat field was very large, extending from the feet to the skyline. The golden wheat waves undulated in the wind, making a rustling sound like ocean waves.
The setting sun slowly sank in the sky, dyeing the entire sky orange-red, dyeing the entire wheat field dark gold, and making the color of mother's scales look like flowing magma.
He flew beside his mother, flying very slowly, and his wings flapped very quickly. He saw a path in the middle of the wheat field, and there were several children running on the path, chasing a wheat-colored ball.
An adult stood on the side of the road and shouted something. His voice floated along the wind, with a smile and gentle reproach.
There is a small town in the distance.
The town is not big, with gray roofs, white walls, and smoke rising from the chimneys.
Humans are working in the fields, elves are building ladders between tree houses, and dragonborn children and human children are chasing the same ball.
The smoke turned into pale gold in the setting sun, like thin ribbons, floating from the roof to the sky.
He felt at that time that this world was really lovely.
It's the kind of feeling that makes people want to see more, stay a little longer, and fly an extra mile. It's the kind of feeling that can be recalled over and over again in a long life without getting tired of it.
This is one of the reasons why he came here.