Chapter 694: The Red Emperor Has Arrived, and Peace Has Come

Garoth descended from the sky.

As his body dropped, a layer of radiance suddenly rippled across the surface of his scales.

As the light flowed, the thirty-meter-long dragon form rapidly shrank and transformed. By the time he landed on the long corridor, he had fully shifted into a tall humanoid form, landing without a sound.

His dragon scales transformed into a suit of dark red and black robes.

His build was powerful, with broad shoulders and a wide back. A head of black hair hung loose and unbound. Two pairs of prominent dragon horns crowned his head like a regal diadem, and a dragon tail covered in crimson scales trailed lightly behind him.

Though he had assumed humanoid form, the imperial dignity belonging to the Dragon Emperor remained undiminished in the slightest.

In fact... because of the unique nature of his draconic transformation, his current humanoid form was, in some ways, even more imposing and awe-inspiring.

The gazes of every living creature in the vicinity were unconsciously drawn to where he stood.

He strode toward the Elven Queen.

The surviving elders dared not make a sound. They lowered their heads and parted to both sides, clearing a path.

Garoth ignored them all.

"Lead the way, Queen."

He stopped before the Elven Queen and said, "I'm quite interested in the Nausil specialties you mentioned."

His towering frame blocked out the morning light, casting a long shadow that nearly enveloped the queen's slender figure entirely. The elves stood no taller than his chest, and she had to tilt her head back slightly just to make out the face hidden in shadow.

The queen's heart gave a violent thump.

The panic of being approached by an apex predator, the yearning toward standing at the ultimate limit of power in the Material Plane, the sense of insignificance before the majesty of a Dragon Emperor... All these emotions mingled together, leaving the Elven Queen's heart restless and uneasy.

Still, she was, after all, the sovereign of a nation.

Though her true status could not compare with the Red Emperor before her, she was no ordinary elf. Her will was resilient enough.

Issezeia quickly steadied herself.

"Please, follow me."

She spoke, then personally led the way.

Garoth gave a slight nod and followed behind her.

The two crossed the long corridors of the Moon Court, rounded several clusters of silver trees blooming with white flowers, and then proceeded slowly along a white stone path covered in vines and moss. By the roadside, a few low-growing laurel trees were blossoming with pale yellow flowers.

There was no denying it—Silverbranch City's scenery was quite distinctive.

Along the way, Garoth seemed like a first-time visitor, occasionally glancing around, leisurely appreciating the sights, his pace neither hurried nor slow.

Issezeia had been quietly observing the Red Emperor's reactions the entire time.

Seeing the appreciation in his eyes for Silverbranch City's beauty, she felt slightly more at ease.

At the very least, this Dragon Emperor was not a savage creature who only knew destruction. He could appreciate beauty, which kindled a sliver of hope in her heart.

Before long, the two arrived at a reception hall standing apart from the main palace.

It was a structure that lived in symbiosis with nature.

White stone pillars entwined with spring vines supported the dome, open on all four sides.

Above, a canopy woven from branches and leaves; below, a carpet of green grass still bearing morning dew. A clear stream wound through the center of the hall, its bed paved with smooth pebbles, where several silver fish darted freely among the stones.

Between architecture and nature, there was no boundary here.

"The three great empires of old each had their own character."

Garoth strolled into the hall, his gaze sweeping the surroundings as he remarked casually, "Halden hangs above the clouds, lofty and aloof, severed from the mortal world below. Kantum was the opposite extreme—nothing but plunder and destruction toward the land, leaving only wasteland wherever it went."

He paused, looking up at the dappled light filtering through the branches overhead, a hint of approval in his eyes.

"Only Nausil advocates coexistence with nature, blending seamlessly with mountains, rivers, and forests."

"That much is evident from the style of your Silverbranch City and royal court."

Hearing these words, the Elven Queen smiled, a trace of pride surfacing on her face.

"Protecting the environment and safeguarding nature has been a tradition of Nausil since its founding."

"Every elf is taught from birth to remain closely connected to all living things. We are not nature's masters—we are merely a part of it. The trees give us shade, the streams give us clean water, and we repay them with equal devotion."

Garoth nodded.

"Your ancestors had foresight."

He shifted the topic and continued, "At the very least, faced with such a naturally beautiful place, I would find it difficult to bring myself to destroy it."

Issezeia's breath caught, her heart tightening.

But she quickly adjusted her expression, once again donning a composed smile.

"I thank you for your mercy, Your Majesty."

"I believe that one who can maintain order across a dragon empire cannot be a violent being who lets rage burn freely. Fury may raze a city, but it can never forge an empire that endures for centuries."

She said.

"Oh?"

Garoth raised an eyebrow.

He turned his head toward the Elven Queen, wearing an ambiguous smile, and said, "The one standing before you just personally destroyed Kantum—reduced an entire empire to scorched earth in a single night. And you have this much confidence in me?"

The Elven Queen smiled. "That confidence originally came from Thalamond."

"You should know him, Your Majesty. He is the most righteous and powerful knight of Nausil."

"But what you may not know is that he told me more than once that the emperor of Sacred Aola is a noble being possessed of true knightly spirit."

I have a knightly spirit?

Since when?

Garoth remained expressionless and asked, "Thalamond—what is this knight's current situation?"

The Elven Queen said, "Back when we were purging the rage beasts and cleansing the curse, he always fought on the front lines, standing in the most dangerous positions, never retreating. As a result, he suffered severe curse erosion himself. Now that the curse has erupted anew, Thalamond chose to enter secluded meditation to avoid losing control."

So that's why this elf knight was nowhere to be seen.

He'd been affected by the curse too.

Garoth wasn't surprised; it was only to be expected.

He changed the subject and said, "They say elves cherish life above all, so I'm curious—how do elves view my destruction of the orcs?"

"Kantum brought it upon itself."

The Elven Queen met his gaze and answered, "The Orc Empire lived by plunder and took pride in destruction. They were the greatest disruptors of order on Bernardo. They ravaged a once-fertile continent beyond recognition and never contributed a single thing to this world."

"With all due candor, if Nausil had possessed sufficient strength, we too would have annihilated such an empire that only sows chaos, to eliminate the threat once and for all."

"What you did is what we wished to do but could not."

"If you seek an assessment, I believe two words fit best—efficient. You very efficiently cleared away these pests."

Indeed. Efficient.

The corners of Garoth's mouth curled upward into a smile.

This was undoubtedly a very positive evaluation, and one that suited his tastes perfectly. The Elven Queen was clearly clever, knowing exactly what words would please him most.

Just then, an elf servant walked across the grass beside the stream, bowed, and presented Silverbranch City's local delicacies.

One was a shallow jade cup holding a pale golden liquid, two silver-white petals floating at its rim; the other was a white jade plate stacked with several thumb-sized white fruits, their skins crystalline, a faint glow visible within the pulp.

After setting the items down, the servant departed.

From start to finish, the servant never once raised their eyes to look at Garoth.

Even though he was in human form now, the scene above the Moon Court had already spread among the royal attendants. Everyone knew this dragon was walking fire and ash—he could reduce a city to scorched earth with a single thought. No one dared steal even a glance at him, afraid their gaze might invite some unforeseeable consequence.

If I wanted to pick a fight, this would be the moment—"How dare you not look at me? Are you insulting me?"

Garoth thought to himself.

"Relsa flower wine, and white fruit from the Moonspring Valley."

Issezeia introduced them to him. "The flower wine is brewed with Silverbranch City's signature silver blossoms, sealed for a millennium before the cask is opened. The white fruit grows at the source of the Moonspring, ripening once every few centuries. It's cool on the tongue and best for dispelling fatigue."

Garoth picked up the jade cup and took a sip.

The flower wine flowed down his throat—initially a crisp sweetness, then an extremely faint herbal fragrance rising from the root of his tongue, finally settling into a thread of warm comfort slowly sinking into his chest. He then picked up a white fruit and placed it in his mouth. The skin burst at the touch, cool juice flooding his palate.

A refreshing, invigorating sensation welled up from within.

These items weren't purely for satisfying cravings.

Even for a legendary, they would offer some assistance in raising one's life level. Unfortunately, he was already a genuine immortal, so eating these now mainly served to taste them; nothing else of substance would come of it.

"Not bad."

"Better than I imagined. Very refreshing."

He gave a simple assessment.

Issezeia followed up on his words. "If you enjoy them, Your Majesty, you could stay in Silverbranch City for a while longer. There are many local delicacies for you to sample."

"Though the elven people hold you in great awe, they would also warmly welcome the arrival of the Master of Aola."

"We elves have always been hospitable."

Hospitable... wasn't it supposed to be aloof?

It was commonly said that the elves were a truly free-spirited and scattered race, with no concept of social niceties woven into their very bones.

When other races wished to visit Silverbranch City, regardless of their background, the elves would typically show them no courtesy whatsoever, rarely accepting outside visitors. Forget hospitality—simply not being given the cold shoulder was already considered quite decent treatment.

But that was how they treated others.

Right now, the Elven Queen's attitude toward him was clearly a world apart from those rumors of cold detachment.

Before absolute power, any tradition or habit could be redefined.

Meanwhile, under the Elven Queen's gaze, the black-haired figure with crimson pupils slowly shook his head.

"Though I would very much like to accept."

"My time, however, is not abundant."

With that said, the tall dragon-man bearing two pairs of dragon horns pressed his lips together, and his demeanor underwent a subtle shift.

The leisurely atmosphere in the hall evaporated without a trace.

The black-haired emperor straightened slightly in his seat. In his calm, gentle eyes, majesty rose like an incoming tide.

With that single, ordinary gesture—so mundane it defied description—he seemed to transform back into the great dragon hovering above the sky vault, imperious and inviolable.

"Small talk ends here."

"Issezeia, the conversation that follows will determine my view of Nausil."

He fixed his gaze on the Elven Queen and asked, "Can you speak for all of Nausil?"

Issezeia's heart skipped a beat.

Coming back to herself, she asked internally.

Can I represent Nausil?

True power in Nausil had always rested with the council. She, as queen, was a nominal sovereign—a symbol, without real authority, and had never possessed the qualification to represent Nausil.

By that standard, she should honestly answer that she could not.

But... the council elders clearly held no weight in the Red Emperor's eyes. Otherwise, he wouldn't be speaking with her like this...

In his view, those so-called elders would probably only annoy him.

The Elven Queen was quick-witted. She hesitated for only an instant.

Because she knew full well that whether she could truly represent Nausil no longer mattered. What mattered was whether, in the eyes of the one before her, she had the qualification to represent Nausil.

She raised her head, her twin moon-like eyes meeting the emperor's, the hesitation in them gone.

"I can."

"I am the queen of Nausil. I can represent Nausil."

She said, her voice ringing with conviction.

Garoth gave a slight nod.

At the very least, this Elven Queen had not flinched at the critical moment, had not shirked responsibility, nor attempted to stall with ambiguous answers. That earned her a measure of recognition from him.

"If you can represent Nausil, then matters become much simpler."

"I have only one question, and you, Queen of Nausil, need only answer—yes or no."

He gazed into the queen's eyes and asked, "Can Nausil accept the rule of Sacred Aola?"

The moment the words left his mouth, silence fell over the hall.

The stream babbled, silver fish swam, yet Issezeia felt as though the entire world had gone still in that instant. She could even hear her own heartbeat.

She had, in fact, guessed roughly what the Red Emperor intended to ask.

From the moment he had arrived, she had been mentally prepared.

But that was a far cry from actually facing it.

The elven race was born free-spirited, averse to restraint.

In the blood of elves flowed a natural resistance to the very concept of being ruled. Nausil had stood for so many years without ever bowing its head to any power. To them, freedom and tradition were things they had always prided themselves on.

And now, a Dragon Emperor from another empire was demanding that she, in the name of her queen-ship, hand Nausil over.

She should refuse, firmly.

But...

The Elven Queen's gaze traveled past the stream and branches, looking out at the sky beyond the royal court.

The entirety of Bernardo had already been engulfed beneath the great dragon's wings.

Atlan had long belonged to Sacred Aola, serving as the foundation of this dragon empire. The scorched earth of Thalassia was still emitting wisps of smoke, being settled and taken over.

Three continents—two were already gone.

Only Arotala remained outside the Red Emperor's grasp, like the last lonely island in a storm, with the tempest closing in from all directions.

She was not naive enough to believe Nausil could resist.

The elven people might be free-spirited, but their warriors were indeed valiant. Each had been cultivated over centuries, the cream of the crop, unafraid of any war. Yet the empire was in chaos from the curse's erosion, uprisings still smoldering across the land, riddled with wounds. The immortals' condition was concerning...

Even if they wanted to resist, it would be difficult to muster effective strength.

And more importantly, she knew well that the Red Emperor would not give her much time.

The Dragon Emperor before her was not cold or cruel in his bearing.

On the contrary, he was gentle in demeanor, appreciative of Silverbranch City's scenery, willing to taste Nausil's specialties, to jest with her, even nodding in approval while she spoke. He gave her a feeling of tolerance and benevolence.

But the Elven Queen harbored no illusions whatsoever, would never mistake this gentleness for indulgence, or think him an easy-going sovereign.

Those who thought so had long since turned to ash.

Beneath that composed countenance lay an absolute will that brooked no defiance.

And most importantly...

She knew the Red Emperor inevitably required a result.

Nausil had its own intelligence channels regarding the ancient Primordial Waste.

Issezeia knew that in the deep void, an ancient and terrifying existence was drawing near to Bernardo.

At a juncture of life and death for the entire world, this emperor intended to clean up every variable before that moment arrived. He would not permit any dissenting voice to exist on Bernardo.

Putting herself in his shoes, Issezeia felt she would make the same decision.

If she were the Red Emperor, facing a catastrophe capable of destroying the world, she too would sweep away every hidden danger before the war.

But although she understood the consequences clearly in her mind, as time trickled by drop by drop, she thought of many things yet found herself unable to speak. It was as if a wad of cotton was lodged in her throat, refusing to let the words out.

Until a gentle breeze swept through the hall.

A green skirt materialized at the stream's edge. Verdant Leaf Rendering Wind stood silently among the water plants.

She first turned and gave a slight nod to the Red Emperor, also an immortal existence, as a gesture of respect, and said, "Mighty Scarlet Emperor Cangxing, this is not our first meeting. Welcome to Nausil."

Her bearing was neither servile nor overbearing.

Though she knew full well she was no match for this dragon, and if he wished her dead, she could not hold out for long.

But immortals had their pride.

Having lived through the long ages, weathered great storms and waves, she would not allow herself to appear overly humble before another immortal.

Otherwise, death would be preferable.

Garoth was not surprised by the elf immortal's appearance.

In fact, the moment he had arrived, he had sensed the gazes of the immortals upon him, knew where they were. But he had paid them no mind.

Moreover, Garoth was not the type to be aggressively overbearing. Facing the elf immortal's greeting, he nodded calmly and said, "I believe the Queen of Nausil can make the decision on your behalf."

Had that not been the case, Verdant Leaf Rendering Wind could have appeared the moment he raised his question, interrupted the conversation, and personally negotiated with him as an immortal.

But she had waited until the Elven Queen sank into the silence of an impossible choice before showing herself.

The primary reason was that she could not be certain she was still in her right mind.

Garoth's True Eye saw through appearances. On the elf immortal's body, he perceived the frenzied flame burning fiercely—and even without seeing it, his familiarity with and sensitivity to the frenzied flame would have revealed its presence.

My mutant form has been optimized, but I still maintain mastery over the frenzied flame.

These frenzied flames eroding the immortals—I should be able to strip them away as well. Even if I can't cure them completely, at least I can weaken them somewhat...

Garoth pondered thoughtfully.

Meanwhile, Verdant Leaf Rendering Wind gave a slight nod, then turned her gaze to the Elven Queen.

"Make your choice, Issezeia."

"The council is useless in times of crisis. In the state that Spring Dawn and I currently find ourselves, we too are hard-pressed to make the right decision."

"But you—you are the queen of Nausil."

"At this critical moment, the future direction of Nausil is yours to decide."

Issezeia looked at the empire's pillar by the stream, then closed her eyes and drew a deep breath.

Accepting rule meant paying the price of freedom. The elves would have to obey the laws of Sacred Aola, submit to the will of a foreign emperor. For a people who had been proud for countless years, this was undoubtedly a bitter pill to swallow.

But given Sacred Aola's style, Nausil had a strong chance of maintaining its current state.

If they refused to the end, what awaited them was likely annihilation.

And if they resisted halfway only to be forced into submission, the result would be even worse—losing both their dignity and their bargaining power, with a very uncomfortable situation to follow.

Most critically, on the planet Bernardo today, no one could defy the Red Emperor's will.

He was already unstoppable.

Halden's submission proved this; Kantum's annihilation proved it as well.

The deliberation lasted only a brief moment.

The Elven Queen simplified the complex problem and reached her final decision.

She opened her eyes, the twin moons now holding nothing but clarity.

"Yes."

"Nausil can accept the rule of Sacred Aola."

She said in a low voice.

The moment those words left her mouth, the heavy burden that had pressed upon her shoulders for so long seemed to fall away in an instant. Issezeia's entire body relaxed, as if a great weight had been lifted.

Sacred Aola was a nation that revered order. The Red Emperor's reputation preceded him. As his enemy, one's situation was always miserable. But other nations under his rule fared quite well.

Take Halden, for instance.

Many had been watching the fate of this former cloud-borne empire, and Nausil was no exception.

The Elven Queen knew that after Halden fell from the clouds, Sacred Aola not only refrained from kicking it while it was down—it had embraced them, even granting them the right to reestablish their nation.

Today, Halden still preserved its culture and traditions, merely becoming a component under Sacred Aola's governance.

Nausil's relationship with Sacred Aola was far better than Halden's.

There was no reason accepting its rule would result in cruel treatment.

The only issue was that the elven people would likely be greatly dissatisfied. Freedom had flowed through elven blood for ages; they would not easily accept a fate of being ruled.

Dissenting voices would emerge across the land—calls to vote her out of the queenship, for instance.

But Nausil's chaos was already severe, with martial law in effect. These problems wouldn't amount to much trouble.

Garoth smiled slightly.

"Excellent."

The emperor's voice turned gentle once more. "I knew you would make a wise choice. And since you are willing to trust Sacred Aola, Sacred Aola will repay that trust."

He looked at the Elven Queen and said slowly, "I can guarantee that under Sacred Aola's rule, Nausil will retain a sufficient degree of autonomy. Moreover, on that foundation, it will also enjoy the benefits of Sacred Aola's Star Network and other creations."

"As for your forests, traditions, and way of life, the empire will not interfere excessively."

"All I require is Nausil's loyalty—and its order."

With that, he gave a light chuckle and said, "Of course, your council will need to be cleaned up. At the very least, I don't want my will to require lengthy deliberation before it reaches Nausil."

Issezeia listened, and the tension in her spine gradually loosened at last.

She knew the Red Emperor's words always carried weight.

The dust had settled.

However, once she fully relaxed, a thought inexplicably surfaced, and she couldn't help but ask, "Your Majesty... I'd like to ask an inopportune question. What if I had said no just now?"

"What would have happened?"

Garoth picked up the jade cup and drained the remaining flower wine in one go.

He glanced at Verdant Leaf Rendering Wind and said offhandedly, "Your two immortals would probably have been the first to die."

The elf immortal said frankly, "I don't doubt you could accomplish that."

Garoth continued, "Then your royal court..."

He stopped mid-sentence, then smiled at the Elven Queen.

"In any case, I may not be an evil dragon, but for those who choose to stand against me, the outcome tends not to be pleasant."

His words were not cold, even somewhat gentle.

But Issezeia felt as though she could clearly see from those casual words the scenes that had never come to pass.

The blood of immortals, a burning royal court, and another rain of meteors falling upon Arotala... A chill slowly crept up her spine.

It was a long while before she finally let out a soft breath.

"Thankfully."

The Elven Queen said, "I chose correctly."

Then, as if reminded of something, she continued, "Our people of Nausil will likely find this news hard to accept at first. Thousands of years of independence changing overnight will be a tremendous shock for many elves."

"But please, do not treat them harshly. They simply are not accustomed to being ruled."

Her gaze was earnest as she looked at Garoth. "Give me some time. I promise I will make the people of Nausil come to recognize Sacred Aola."

Harshly?

No need for that.

Garoth said, "No matter. On this matter, all Nausil needs to do is cooperate fully and connect to Aola's Star Network."

The Star Network was a product of a new era.

Of course, "new era" here referred not to technology.

In truth, whether Halden or Nausil, empires that had stood for countless years on Bernardo all possessed the technology and resources to build a Star Network at their peak. With the knowledge and wealth at their disposal, one could even say they could produce a Star Network with ease.

The problem was, they lacked the mindset.

Even if they built something like a Star Network, they would only turn it into a strategic tool reserved for the upper echelons, rather than popularizing it for everyone to use.

For elves, whose traditional way of life was, if anything, rather austere—

The impact of the Star Network would be absolutely tremendous.

Garoth did not elaborate further.

He raised his hand and extended his palm toward the elf immortal by the stream.

Verdant Leaf Rendering Wind was momentarily startled.

The next instant, her body gave a violent jolt.

Hum!

Strand after strand of dark crimson flame, invisible to the naked eye, was stripped from her brow, her chest, her limbs and bones. Then, like fireflies drawn by an unseen force, they traveled across the surface of her skin, converging, being pulled out, and vanishing entirely into Garoth's outstretched palm.

The curse.

The frenzied flame that had lurked within her body for years, robbing her of peace day and night, was being extracted!

Verdant Leaf Rendering Wind's eyes went wide.

She could feel it—the burning rage that had endlessly churned and whispered at the depths of her consciousness was receding at lightning speed.

Light.

Unprecedented lightness.

"You..."

She raised her head and blurted out, "You can dispel the Primordial Wastes' curse?!"

"To be precise, it's not dispelling."

Garoth withdrew his hand, his fingers curling closed as the invisible frenzied flame merged into his body. "It's absorbing. These frenzied flames now reside within me."

His gaze swept over the immortal and the queen as he said, "Since Nausil has submitted to Sacred Aola, I naturally cannot stand idly by regarding matters here."

With that, he rose to his feet, black hair cascading down, dragon horns standing proud.

"Let these curses and this fury be borne by me. This is my duty as a ruler."

Both the Elven Queen and Verdant Leaf Rendering Wind were momentarily stunned, their impressions of the Red Emperor deepening anew.

A short while later, in a quiet chamber deep within the royal court.

Another elf immortal, Spring Dawn's String, sat cross-legged at the center of layer upon layer of sealing formations. He had been affected by the curse even more severely and had been forced to seal himself away temporarily.

Garoth entered the quiet chamber and did the same.

The elf's tightly shut eyes opened. For the first time, clarity returned to those bloodshot pupils.

However, Garoth knew full well.

The two immortals had been eroded far too deeply. The frenzied flame had nearly become entangled with the very source of their power. He could draw away the surface flames, but he could not uproot the residual poison buried in their foundations.

Treating the symptoms, not the disease.

To truly cure them, the only way was to eliminate the source of it all—the ancient Primordial Waste approaching from the deep void.

Afterward, Garoth walked out of the royal court.

He hovered above Silverbranch City, resuming his true draconic form.

His crimson wings unfurled with a thunderous crack.

The next instant, the red iron dragon transformed into a bolt of crimson lightning piercing heaven and earth, streaking across the sky above the royal court, racing toward Nausil's vast territories.

With him at the center, an invisible great net spread out in every direction.

Across the land.

Countless frenzied flames hidden within the hearts of elves, as if hearing their sovereign's call, converged into the sky, streaming from all directions toward the crimson figure sweeping across the heavens, devoured wholesale into his body.

Wherever the red iron dragon passed, the frenzied flame dissipated.

Elves who had been consumed by rage snapped back to their senses, standing bewildered in place as if awakening from a long dream.

Before long.

As the crimson lightning completed its final circuit above Nausil's skies, the curse that had plagued this empire for so long, that had nearly dragged the entire nation to the brink of collapse, was cleansed.

Though a few stragglers remained.

But scattered sparks of ember could no longer stir up any waves—Nausil could handle those on its own.

Silverbranch City, above the Moon Court.

Issezeia tilted her head back, watching the crimson figure tear through space and vanish. The last shadow of gloom in her moon-like eyes faded away.

Once again, she felt immensely grateful that her choice had been correct.

"The news of accepting Sacred Aola's rule hasn't been officially announced yet. Perfect—this event can serve as a warm-up, reducing the initial chaos."

She pondered, already thinking of a suitable slogan.

The Red Emperor came, and the curse left; the Red Emperor came, and peace arrived.

Simple. Direct.

And most importantly—it was the truth.

At the same time.

Beneath the deep night sky.

A vast ocean stretched between Arotala and Atlan, but for Garoth, who could tear through space, it was no more than a single breath.

When he stepped out of the spatial rift, the ground beneath his feet had already become Atlan's territory.

He looked up at the sky and, among the sea of starlight, spotted a light point that seemed unnatural—and it was growing larger, as if drawing ever closer.

The Egg of Catastrophe. Omens of Myriad Disasters.

Before long, this Ancient One would arrive at Bernardo.