Chapter 551 - Resolve

In a certain Devil God cult’s base, a young man arrived.

The man looked like he had been through the wringer. His wounds were too many to count, minor and major. His clothes were in tatters. The rags around his waist couldn't even be called a cloth. With each step, he dripped blood on the floor. He was missing an arm and his face was half-gone as if something tore a chunk of it. Gruesomely, his brain could be seen from outside.

Other cultists saw the man, yet none dared to approach. His reputation preceded him.

The man had red eyes, and he was dragging a woman by the foot with his one remaining arm.

He walked and walked. Despite his condition, he showed no sign of pain. On the contrary, he was half-grinning, as if he was still basking in euphoric experience.

While daydreaming, before he knew it, he had arrived. Since his one good arm was occupied, he commanded the shadows to open the door for him before entering with a confident stride.

“Kito, my disciple. You have returned. Your work in Latias pleased the God of Fire and Destruction.”

“That’s what I do. War is a joy like no other.”

After a few seconds of silence, the two broke into a hearty laugh.

“Master,” Red Eyes greeted the older man properly.

He was Tequila Dragon. Grandmaster of the Warbringers cult. A Level 5 peak Pathseeker.

“Mmm,” Tequila nodded. “Sparrow’s Reach or whatever the city’s name has been turned into an altar for Chalchar. The other elders thought you’d only stir some chaos, not systematic destruction. Ha! That will show them! Bwahahaha!”

“A shame I can't kill the duke and duchess myself. I need to get stronger still.”

“Let the veterans do their job while you’re still growing, kid. That’s their role. So, why are you bringing her here? It’s rare for you to show attachment to someone you’ve defeated. You wanna hang her on your wall or something? I’ve never acquired the taste myself, but I can introduce you to one of our taxidermists.”

The man Red Eyes called master stroked his beard as he looked down on the unmoving young woman. She was still conscious, even though her sight was too blurry. She’d heard everything but she was powerless to act. Despite her will, her broken body was unable to respond, not even her tongue.

Traces of tears could be seen beside her eyes.

Ciel Valentine saw her parents slain in front of her eyes, her home burned to the ground, and her people slaughtered.

Her feelings were crushing her.

Unlike Red Eyes, Ciel didn't suffer bodily harm. Despite it all, her limbs were still there. There was no mutilation and she didn't look like a roadkill victim, but saying she was in a better state than Red Eyes was not a correct statement either.

“The rumored Valentine’s lass,” Tequila poked at the cracked gem embedded on Ciel’s chest. “Uh-huh, she’s got potential. I can see why those silver-robed nuns are fond of her. What happened?”

“The plan was to let the Empire boys draw the Duke Val’s forces, then let the other duke flank him. In the chaos, we Warbringers caused maximum damage... which I ignored most of.”

“As you should,” Tequila snorted and smiled.

“I made sure the forces of the Empire and Lucan duchy pay their share of blood in our war as offerings for our deity. They don't like us very much as a result but that always happens. At any rate, during the conflict, I battled this guy, a revenger spouting the usual bullshit. He was pretty interesting because Fate was pushing him hard towards me. Well, Fate or not, he still died when I chopped off his head. His name is Silverlight or something. Already fading from my memory. Then I battled her. She got no Fate pushing her back, but she’s proven to be more powerful than the other loser. She was good. Power, skill, heart, everything is top-class. She drew out the power of her Divine Weapon far above what I thought possible. That was a damn good fight.”

“So the arm and the...” Tequila pointed to his own head, specifically the part where Red Eyes’ was missing.

“A-yup. She’s the one. The closest brush with death I’ve ever had... But, I’m better.”

“Savor the feeling, kid,” Tequila reminisced about his own life-and-death battles.

“Of course. Now, as you can see, Master, my Aspect is what’s keeping me alive. The head injury is difficult, but it can be fixed. My arm, however, is lost forever. Not even regrowth with the elixir of rejuvenation is possible. Took the full brunt of her shiny sword,” Red Eyes shook his head.

“Yes, no medicine or power can fix your arm. Even time or causality reversal is not certain. You need at least Level 8 power, which I don't have. A shame, that. Prosthetic? Or do you want a monster arm graft or the like? Either way, your combat power will take a hit.”

“I’m thinking of a better option. Her.”

At first, Tequila thought Kito wanted the girl’s arm to replace the one she had obliterated, but the old dog of war realized the true meaning the next second.

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Tequila grinned.

“You want to dye the Church’s prized little pet black. Pervert her values and drench her in sin. Break then mold her like clay, over and over again until-”

“Until she’s a living, breathing replacement for the arm I lost. Poetic, is it not?”

“Hahahahaha! Not bad, kiddo, not bad! But not enough. Put your seed inside her. Breed her. She’s got excellent lineage. The potential of the union between you two is too enticing to pass up.”

“Mmm, perhaps later. She is too ‘white’ now for my taste.”

“Suit yourself,” Tequila drank a glass of his namesake liquor before he crouched down and moved Ciel’s face until their eyes met. “Excited about your future, Church girl?”

Ciel had special sight; she could see the color of a person’s aura based on the amount of their sin or virtue. She didn't need to have the sight to know how evil these two people were.

With difficulty, Ciel replied.

“You... will... never... break... me...”

“Challenge accepted,” Red Eyes Kito said. “I pray to your Goddess, don't make it too easy for me. It takes away the fun.”

***

Croix Ash Latias wondered how things could go wrong so fast?

He went from a prince to a pariah in one day. It was an insidious trap, through and through.

The Grand Prix was a wash, so he attempted to distinguish himself in the war while defending his country, as was his duty.

It went reasonably well. Peace talks with the Empire might even be possible. Croix planned to go back to the Sinclair Academy afterward, after spending some time with his family in Stormberg.

Because he was accused of being Sophia’s poisoner, Stormberg was plunged into a hopeless battle. His beloved mother died. The harsh but kind aunt perished. The loyal knight that he had known since childhood with a semblance of a father figure, Alfred, also gone.

Even Sophia, her painful death that Croix had to witness, brought him horror. Croix had known the Chancellor’s granddaughter since they were little. That sweet girl was his childhood crush.

Despite their political standing that divided them, somewhere in Croix’s heart he had hoped they could be together somehow.

Now, the sight of her dying moment was seared into the back of his eyelids, among other terrible nightmares.

Why must she die in excruciating pain because of some vile poison? She didn't deserve it!

As swift as the wind, Celestine made full use of the chaos, besmirching his reputation while elevating herself. With the backing of Lucan Duchy, it gained incredible traction. This propelled the princess’ reputation to the moon.

Avel once taught him to look at the biggest beneficiary. They were the most likely culprit.

Was it really her? Croix still couldn't believe the Celestine he met could do something like this.

Disgraced and wounded, Croix made his way to Archion Volcano, sort of ancestral land for the royal family.

He was hunted. Others put a bounty on his head. The things he had, or Falmerion himself. True Dragons were priceless. Bounty hunters, criminals, law enforcement, glory-seekers, errant knights, cultists... Croix fought them tooth and nail.

Some claimed they wanted to take him into custody to protect him, but he didn't trust them.

It was difficult, it was painful, but he didn't stop. When he was outmatched, he ran. People died so he could escape, so he could live. If he died, then it was like their sacrifice was for nothing. Croix couldn't bear it. It was just... so sad.

In the past, whenever he went through bad times, there were always others. Friends and comrades.

Now, it was just him and the heavily wounded dragon. Falmerion had done his best and had turned small and helpless. Without Croix, he would die too.

So much responsibility. Therefore, even if Croix walked until his feet were bloody and tears on his face, he still kept going forward.

He missed his friends greatly.

Finally, he reached Archion Volcano and the Ancient Red who made the place his home and sheltered Croix under his wings. The trespassers swiftly turned to ash. Not even a Level 5 dared to provoke the anger of a True Dragon, especially one as old and powerful as Archion the Red Skies.

Archion helped Falmerion recover; meanwhile, Croix faced his grief, his future, and himself.

Nine days later, he made his decision.

“A King I wish to be,” said Croix to the great dragon’s face. “Never again do I want to lose my loved ones because of powerlessness! The chaos in Latias has to cease immediately and the power of a King is needed! Archion of the Red Skies, partner of my ancestor, do you find me worthy!?”

And the dragon answered thus: “Show me your strength, whelp.”

The fallen prince faced the dragon in combat for seven days and seven nights. After finally nicking one of the dragon’s horn, he entered the Realm of Fire to further prove his mettle.

One day later, Croix returned. For him, it was one year.

Falmerion, now healed, welcomed his partner with affection.

Archion, seeing the Level 3 peak human whelp, the burning will inside that small frame, very briefly, gave a look of approval.

“Now you’re worthy of a crown.”

The Ancient Red fully extended his wings, which reached fifty meters from tip to tip. Utilizing a very powerful magic, he coalesced light from the sun and fire from the volcano to one point, forming long ribbon-like shapes as they came together.

A great magic was at work, an endeavor so great its ripples could be sensed from across the Human Dominion.

The prominent figures of the Estellian Church and Silver Legion who were busy preparing the crusade and the tournament could feel it.

The leaders and powerhouses of the Free People Coalition, the Zetel Sultanate, and the Harkelan Empire shifted their gaze.

Archion’s work gained attention from beyond, too.

A King of Beast to the west stirred.

A Creature from a watery depth.

A Phoenix who was grieving for her daughter.

An Immortal in his cultivation cave.

An Emperor on his throne of bones.

Of course, the most impacted were the people in the Latias Kingdom. In the evening sky, it was like rivers of light were converging on the volcano.

For they witnessed history come again. Legends told about how the founder king of Latias obtained his crown. Today, they had seen it with their own eyes, in all its glory and wonder.

Many Latiasi wondered: could it be? Had a king finally risen?

Knights from old knightly orders knelt in the direction of the volcano.

A certain princess’ face, in the middle of politicking, turned sour. The duke’s daughter beside her knew the inevitable conflict to come and her heart grew worried.

Under the same sky, a certain villain looked upwards and smiled.

“Huh. Would you look at that? Way to go, kid.”