Beneath the Red Dragon

Chapter 860: Apex_3

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Chapter 860: Chapter 149: Apex_3

These warriors were clad in armor that shone with Magic Radiance, their longswords, sabers, and spears keen and bright, each warrior seeming to blaze with boundless light.

It was said that, in the bounties offered by the Southern Nobles, within the Golden Empire each Giant Dragon Lord’s severed head could rival ten of the richest cities in worth.

And the head of the Giant Dragon Karon Gogomola was valued even higher—worth an entire small kingdom complete and whole.

Yet no one believed that the Golden Empire had squandered infinite resources and immeasurable wealth to array such a formation out of fear that its Emperor and Dragon King might suffer an assassination.

The Gogomola Dragon Group were no longer hatchlings lacking a powerful parent’s protection; they had become a presence that shocked and terrified the whole Northern Continent.

At the indication of the King of Black Dragons Rosani, the guarding warriors withdrew their weapons, and Brass Dragon Holister stepped forward toward the vast Dragon King, meeting that dense, impenetrable darkness within his gaze.

“Good day, exalted King of Black Dragons, His Majesty Rosani. Perhaps you still remember me, I am…” Brass Dragon Holister offered heartfelt respect to the Dragon King of the Golden Empire.

Rosani crouched upon a mighty pillar of rock, and gave a cordial response to this Brass Dragon who had many times carried tidings to the Golden Empire.

“Go on then, Holister, my friend, the Empire’s friend, and Karon’s friend,” Black Dragon Rosani said gently. “I must personally receive a King here, and so cannot accompany you.”

A merry smile appeared upon Holister’s usually cold face. He answered the Black Dragon, then, tail swaying, slowly paced toward the lone sea‑cliff in the distance.

The terrain upon the island was scored with ravines; it seemed the warriors of the Golden Empire had roughly tidied it, carving out a wide, level avenue leading straight toward the solitary peak on the northern shore of the isle.

He walked against the flow of towering Giant Demons, aloof Dragon-men, proud Centaurs, crude Ogres, graceful Elves, Bloodthirsty Jackal-Wolf Men, wild Barbarians, lithe Naga, solemn humans, and cold Beastmen—this host of Warriors in such numbers and varieties that even a Giant Dragon could not count the races with a single glance—as they climbed that lone peak.

From the sky there drifted down the chatter and laughter of Giant Dragon hatchlings.

“That is a Brass Dragon, is it not?”

“So it appears—but we must not rule out the possibility of some other Giant Dragon variant whose form is similar. Do not judge an uncertain factor by first impressions and fixed notions; that is a lesson our teacher taught us.”

“Heehee, you are so clever.”

“Tch, you Green Dragons do love your sly little jibes.”

“Hahaha, I recall that within the family, there has never been a Brass Dragon, has there?”

“Right, right—ask Achilles, that foolish fellow who cannot fly. He should know far more of family matters than we do!”

Brass Dragon Holister did not find these hatchling voices noisy in the quiet air; he felt instead that a vitality he had never known before was unfolding before his eyes.

He ascended the summit platform hewn out by Giant Dragons; upon these mountain masses, hardened by sea winds and the ceaseless wear of sun and storm, there still remained many ferocious, terrifying claw‑marks left by Giant Dragons.

He passed over the broad ceremonial grounds laid out by Dragon Descendant maids and Elf Maids, and on the outermost platform he beheld three figures seated and standing.

Here, Brass Dragon Holister could already hear the faint, ethereal songs rising from the sea before the cliff’s edge; he knew these to be the songs of Sea Demons.

It seemed that even those ever‑mysterious, rarely seen Sea Demons had been drawn to this grand convocation, offering on The Sea their wondrous song as tribute to that Emperor sitting there in An Jing majesty.

Gazing into the distance, a line of words suddenly rose in Holister’s mind: “If one does not climb the cliff, how can one behold the supreme splendor of all mountains laid low before one’s eyes?”

He shook his head, casting such stray thoughts from his mind. He did not belong here; he had ascended only by virtue of being a friend, and thus should not harbor attachment.

“Dragon Emperor, His Majesty Karon Gogomola,” Brass Dragon Holister spoke softly.

Then the Dragon Emperor turned, bared a row of gleaming fangs, and said with a quiet laugh, “Oh, my friend, welcome.”

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