WHOOOOOSH—!
FLAP. FLAP.
The first dragon to emerge beyond the Ellar Kingdom’s barrier leisurely soared through the sky, its wings flapping.
Straight ahead, the dragon saw a massive snow-covered mountain. A majestic castle of white marble stood atop it, making the snowy mountain appear even steeper.
SWOOOOOSH—!
The dragon rapidly descended toward the castle. Twisting its body, it transformed in an instant into a human wearing a blue cloak.
WHIRL.
THUD.
When he stopped before the magnificent golden gate of the enormous castle, a deafening rumble sounded as the gate slowly opened.
CLACK. CLACK.
After passing through the vast, lengthy corridor, he spotted someone dining elegantly at a table in the distance. He bent both knees toward him and bowed.
“Lord Shavron, I have a report! Helmut and Baidola were swept into that bastard High Priest’s subspace and returned to Dragonia, while Pnekoa and Fram were killed in battle by a pointy-ear.”
Shavron set his fork and knife down on the table and burst into raucous laughter.
“Hahaha! Were they not Rerian’s subordinates? A pointy-ear killed them?”
“That is correct.”
“Were they killed by those elf Elders or Hellorn? They should not have had the strength to fight those summoned within the barrier after pouring all their mana into it.”
“That bastard Hellorn killed them.”
The laughter instantly vanished from Shavron’s face. He slowly turned his head and spoke in a low voice.
“I do not recall receiving any report that that bastard possessed such power.”
“Th-that is correct. Furthermore, he summoned petals with teeth.”
“Petals with teeth? Were they violet, by any chance?”
“That is correct.”
“Is that not the Flower of Death, that spirit bastard? Hahaha! Are those treacherous bastards daring to test me now? They failed to report something this important?”
“I will immediately send a telepathic message and investigate.”
Shavron nodded, gave a faint smirk, and spoke.
“Go at once. It seems a guest is coming.”
The subordinate pressed his head against the floor.
“Everything shall be as Lord Shavron wills!”
His body turned into smoke and gradually disappeared. Just as the smoke began to clear—
“He is dining! You must not enter!!”
CRASH—!
“You must not enter. Please stop!”
THUD. THUD. THUD.
Still snorting in fury and unable to calm himself, Rerian approached Shavron, who was leisurely eating his steak.
BANG—!
Rerian slammed his fist down hard upon the table holding the steak and wineglass.
CRASH.
The table shattered into pieces, and the plate of steak and wineglass fell to the floor and broke.
“How rude, Rerian.”
The moment he spoke, Shavron seized Rerian by the collar at a speed too fast for the naked eye to follow and pressed the fork in his other hand against Rerian’s throat.
DRIP. DRIP.
Drops of blood slowly fell from the fork at Rerian’s throat. Rerian drew in a deep breath, exhaled, and spoke.
“Why didn’t your subordinates help mine when the World Tree was right before us?”
Shavron abruptly seized Rerian’s head and yanked it backward, answering with a sinister smile.
“Would I have any reason to help you?”
THUD.
Shavron hurled Rerian to the floor, then casually tossed the fork down and spoke in an elegant voice.
“It seems you have forgotten my power, Rerian.”
“Are you disrespecting Lord Garn, the Dragon Lord, Shavron?”
HAHAHAHA—!
Shavron laughed as though the idea were absurd and ground Rerian’s hand beneath his foot.
“Unfortunately, hiding behind your father does not work on me. Your father, like me, belongs to the First Direct Generation descended from those whom the Primordial God personally created.”
“Gnnnnngh.”
Veins bulged along Rerian’s neck as his anger surged.
“Even if you remain neutral, didn’t you agree with killing the pointy-ears?!”
“Of course. I hate those pointy-eared bastards more than I hate your father.”
“With your Authority, you can easily enter the barrier!”
“Yes. I am the only one who can.”
Shavron slowly bent down and lightly patted Rerian’s cheek as he continued.
“But you see, exterminating them all at once... would not melt the deep knot in my heart.”
“The pact proposed by Indigon expired as of today! The First-Generation Spirit bastard has bloomed.”
“...The pact? Do you mean the pact stating that the First Direct Generation must neither attack the elves directly nor interfere in anything concerning them? I would prefer that pact to be extended forever.”
“Didn’t you say you hated the elves more than anyone else!!”
Shavron looked at Rerian and curled one corner of his mouth into a grin.
“The pointy-ears must become even more isolated. They must struggle even more desperately to survive. They must claw and thrash until the moment they are filled with more hope and anticipation than ever before.”
His expression soon became laden with murderous intent.
“Then they must die.”
As though crushed by Shavron’s murderous intent, Rerian’s lips trembled as he answered.
“As agreed with my father, the Fruit of the World Tree and the roots steeped in the Blood of the Primordial God—”
“I have no interest in them. However!”
Shavron straightened his back and elegantly dusted off his clothes with the back of his hand.
“If you ever request my cooperation as rudely as you did this time, I will side with Indigon instead of Garn and tear off your limbs first.”
***
“At last... at last! Is it true that the Flower of Death has bloomed?”
“However, just as you said, Lord Indigon, blood fell from the sky like rain, but it did not fall across every region of the continent!”
“Of course not. It has yet to blossom fully...”
Exuding a languid, decadent allure, Indigon stared at the colossal dragon fossil resting at the center of an altar upon which a formation had been drawn in blood.
“For now, the time Tario prophesied for the Flower of Death to bloom again was roughly correct. Until the Flower of Death blossoms fully, protect it so that no other bastard dares to kill it. Devote every effort to finding every last piece of Lord Kaor’s body, the one who once led our race to glory.”
“Understood.”
“The bloody rain that falls across the entire continent on the day the Flower of Death fully blossoms will be the blood of our ancestors that bastard devoured while it was alive. Lord Kaor’s blood will be among it. We must gather as much of Lord Kaor’s blood as possible and resurrect him.”
“What must we do to make the Flower of Death blossom fully?”
“The pointy-ear harboring the Flower of Death must grow stronger himself. Strong enough to slaughter dragons...”
“Should we abduct him and forcibly inject power into him?”
“I know you have waited a long time... but I forbid it. One wrong move, and the Flower of Death that appeared after thousands of years could wither before it blossoms fully. Lord Kaor’s body is the urgent priority, so find his scattered remains first.”
“I shall obey.”
CLACK. CLACK.
“I greet Lord Indigon.”
“Yes. What is it?”
“Garn has issued an emergency summons to every dragon.”
Hahaha!
Indigon gave a hearty laugh and nodded.
“The title of Lord is one that none but Lord Kaor should dare claim, yet Garn remains as insolent as ever. His little game of pretending to be Lord will not last much longer...”
“When do you intend to strike Garn, Lord Indigon?”
“Wait. Everything has its proper order.”
***
“Lord, the appointed time has arrived.”
Seated in the central chair in human form, Garn slowly looked over the other dragons.
“The seats at the front are empty, as expected.”
The others either deliberately averted their gazes or remained silent. Rerian, however, whose neck and right hand were wrapped in bandages, glared furiously at the empty seats and shouted.
“Shavron says he intends to uphold the pact proposed by Indigon. How long are you going to keep watching them?!”
At that moment, a woman with long orange hair seated near the front, close to the Dragon Lord, laughed loudly enough to shake the meeting chamber.
“Hahahaha! How insolent.”
At her laughter, everyone except the Dragon Lord and the person standing beside him tensed. Garn looked at her politely.
“Isena, you rarely even come to Dragonia. What are you doing here now? If you came merely to provoke trouble, then return at once.”
Despite his warning, she paid Garn no attention.
“I came to see what you usually do in these so-called meetings. Go on, then.”
The person standing beside Garn cleared his throat once before speaking.
“Ahem. We shall now begin the meeting. The first item concerns how the subordinates of the five members of the First Direct Generation, descended from those created by the Primordial God, and Lord Rerian’s subordinates dealt with the elves guarding the World Tree—”
Isena interrupted in a lackadaisical voice.
“Those two underlings of Rerian who died? I don’t care about the deaths of the whelps born to those vulgar collateral-line bastards who sprang up indiscriminately as the Primordial God died... The Flower of Death!”
She unleashed enough murderous intent to fill the meeting chamber and stared at Garn.
“The Flower of Death! I’ll kill the pointy-ear harboring that spirit bastard myself. Anyone else who lays a hand on him will die. Every last one of you. I’ll see that spirit bastard with my own two eyes!”
“So long as you do not touch the World Tree or its fruit, I do not care. Since you say you will kill him personally, may I take that to mean you agree with me and no longer intend to uphold the Pact of the Five?”
“I’ve opposed the pact from the beginning.”
She glared at the old man seated across from her.
“A majority opposed me, so I had no choice but to stand by and watch.”
The old man seated opposite Isena spoke in a feeble, cracking voice.
“Those who forget history will meet the same end history has already shown. Furthermore...”
Isena glared at the old man.
“How could I forget...? I watched with my own two eyes as that bastard killed and devoured my parents and siblings when I was young!”
He answered calmly.
“That is not what I meant. What happened then was brought upon us by our own greed. Did we not nearly face extinction because of it?”
At his words, Isena rose from her seat and released murderous intent with an unreadable expression.
“Isena. The meeting has not even begun. Withdraw your murderous intent.”
The other dragons watched one another nervously, unable to speak amid the increasingly heated atmosphere. The old man, however, seemed entirely unconcerned by Isena and continued.
“As I have said time and again, the war with the elves must stop. It is not too late, even now. We are only repeating a foolish history. More importantly, I would like us to stop the humans who worship us from using our names to prepare for war against one another.”
Garn rested an arm upon the chair’s armrest and slowly answered.
“Tario, I have always respected your opinion because you possess the prophetic ability to see the future. However!”
He raised one hand and rested his chin upon it as he continued.
“The World Tree was the first gift the Primordial God bestowed upon this continent, and we were born to govern all that the Primordial God created. Tending to the Primordial God’s legacy was the role of Hairi, the progenitor of the pointy-ears. Now that she is dead, is it not right that we shoulder that duty?”
Tario firmly shook his head and retorted.
“Are you dressing up your true desire to seize the World Tree with honeyed words? Are you sending countless people to their deaths because of your greed to absorb the World Tree’s mana, which contains the Primordial God’s strongest energy, and cultivate overwhelming power? After all this, can you still claim to fulfill your role as Lord—”
BANG—!
When Garn slammed the sole of his right foot against the floor, the ground trembled.
At that moment—
CLACK. CLACK.
From beyond the enormous, magnificent meeting chamber came the sound of someone approaching at a leisurely pace, followed by a terrified voice.
“A direct descendant of the great Lord Kaor, second in the hierarchy... K-Kghhh.”
CLACK. CLACK.
Indigon languidly dusted off his hands as he entered and looked down at the other seated dragons.
“Sorry. My handshake must have been too rough. It seems he died?”
He then looked at Garn, who sat alone in the center of the chamber, and grinned.
“Are your little power games fun, Garn?”