Chapter 435 : The Temptation of the Dragon

Chapter 435: The Temptation of the Dragon

Marquis ‍​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​​​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌​​‌​​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​​​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​​‌​​‌​‌​​​​​‌​‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌‌‌​‌‍Wallace was furious.

After ‍​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‍years of development, his territory had only just reached the point where it could export goods and generate some revenue.

The ‍​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‍population had more or less recovered, and at the very least, there was now enough surplus labor to sustain the lifestyle of the noble lords like him.

But ‍​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‍the sudden turmoil caused by these green-skinned Orcs had directly cut off the trade route that ran north of his territory to the York Territory.

It ‍​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‍had taken great effort for his territory to begin profiting from trade and collecting taxes—only for these blue-skinned bastards to intercept it. How could he possibly tolerate that?

He ‍​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‍immediately gathered his army and charged toward the Northern Regions.

As for whether this decisiveness carried with it intentions of looting or extortion, that was hard to say.

Although the North was poor, it was, after all, a unified kingdom.

Yet Marquis Wallace realized he had been terribly mistaken.

These green-skinned bastards were unexpectedly strong. Even without armor, they could go toe-to-toe with his elite warriors. Among them were not just one or two Tier Five beings.

In just one clash, his warriors were utterly shattered by the Orcs.

This shocked Marquis Wallace.

He hadn’t expected that in just a few short years of peace, the very warriors he once led in the Eastern Crusade had become so degenerate.

He admitted the Orcs were strong, but their reckless charges shouldn’t have been able to break through his elite formation.

If the Orcs hadn’t halted at the border and refrained from pursuit, it was possible his entire elite force might have been wiped out.

After gathering the remnants of his defeated troops, Marquis Wallace reformed his lines and stood off against the Orcs across the border.

The Orcs, to their credit, maintained discipline. As long as Marquis Wallace's men didn’t step across the line, the Orcs simply howled.

But the moment anyone crossed even half a step, the Orcs would charge like mad beasts.

He had no choice. He couldn’t win, but at this point, Marquis Wallace didn’t dare retreat.

Who knew whether the Orcs' restraint was genuine? If he withdrew, they might flood into his territory and plunder it.

When he was younger, Marquis Wallace had heard many tales of the Northern brutes raiding south.

But this standoff couldn’t last forever.

Marquis Wallace hesitated—should he ask Marquis Richard of Adrian for help?

Although he was closer to the Diocese of Rod, the Church only recognized its own doctrines.

If the Orcs truly invaded, the Diocese would not hesitate to send troops. But although Marquis Wallace claimed the Orcs had disrupted his trade route, he knew full well it was his own men who had first crossed into the North and caused the incident.

Though others had sent people as well, he was simply the unlucky one—being the neighbor, he had to bear the blame.

As for the trade route, it originally ran through the North. It was only because the area was temporarily without a lord that merchants had freely come and gone. Now that it was cut off, the Church’s logic wouldn’t view it as an act of aggression.

If the Northerners were willing to negotiate, the Church might even demand that Wallace pay tolls for using the Orc Province's roads.

How could Marquis Wallace accept that? Every gold coin had been earned through painstaking effort—there was no way he would hand them over so easily.

But just as he hesitated, the sky suddenly darkened.

Is the weather changing?

Marquis Wallace looked up.

No—it was a massive living creature. A dragon!

His eyes widened. He had once planned to sell dragon-related intelligence for gold, but before any deal could be struck, the Northern Regions had openly announced the discovery of the Giant Dragon Mountain Peak. His information had instantly become worthless.

He had bitterly regretted his greed ever since.

But now—a real dragon had appeared.

A living dragon!

Flying right above his head!

Though—

The dragon seemed... rather weak?

Marquis Wallace narrowed his eyes in suspicion but still gestured for his troops to stay alert.

It wasn’t so weak as to be captured easily, but it was far less intimidating than the legendary Fantasy Species.

To be precise, it gave him a similar feeling to Marquis Richard’s Dragon-Eagle.

In both size and threat.

Tier Six.

Marquis Wallace was certain the dragon above him was a Tier Six creature.

And what did Tier Six mean? At the very least, if it came to a fight, he wouldn’t necessarily lose.

Even without a Holy Relic, he was a genuine Tier Five. Among his troops were more than twenty knights.

The only thing he regretted was that his Holy Relic had already been surrendered. If he still had it, he might even consider attacking.

But for now, he held back.

Seemingly just making a brief appearance, the dragon circled above once, then flew over to the Orcs and circled them three times.

Then, Marquis Wallace saw the Orcs retreat.

Once their figures vanished, the dragon landed in their midst.

Its massive form shook the earth upon impact.

Marquis Wallace stepped forward and locked eyes with the dragon.

In that instant, he felt the dragon’s eyes were like a human’s.

"Marquis Wallace, your men have invaded my territory." The voice came from the dragon’s throat. Though deep and thick, Marquis Wallace recognized it—it was Aen.

Aen had a dragon under his command?

Or… had Aen become the dragon himself?

Marquis Wallace recalled the Northern storybooks they once laughed at.

Tales of the Northern Dragon, Ismir—

They had mocked the idea. A merchant being praised as a dragon?

But now—

"No, I have not transformed into a dragon. These are my children." Aen's voice emerged again, as if reading Wallace’s mind.

Marquis Wallace squinted, hiding his thoughts. He said, "They’re your… people?"

Aen replied, "They are my dogs."

Marquis Wallace curled his lips and said, "Congratulations, Your Majesty Aen, on acquiring such strong hunting hounds."

Aen said, "They have yet to earn my recognition."

Marquis Wallace asked, "Then, is His Majesty Aen here to settle scores for those unrecognized hounds?"

Aen replied, "No. I simply want Marquis Wallace to know that the Northern Region has been designated as the Orc Province—my dog-rearing grounds."

Marquis Wallace said, "Is this a warning? Don’t forget, you signed a trade agreement with me."

Though only symbolic trade had occurred after signing—Northern goods weren’t essential to Wallace’s lands, and Wallace didn’t have much to sell to the North either.

Northern furs and ores were mainly bought up by Greenwood’s merchants.

Aen said, "I haven’t said anything about breaking the agreement. My merchants will still come to Wallace Territory. But the Orc Province has its own rules, and since Marquis Wallace has encountered them, I believe you understand—they are not rational creatures."

Marquis Wallace let out a cold laugh.

He understood clearly—Aen was saying that this land now had an owner. If he dared act as if it were still unclaimed, he risked being torn apart by these Orcs.

But what could he do? He couldn’t defeat the green-skins.

He could ask Marquis Richard for help, but even if they won, the cost would outweigh the benefits.

Still—

Marquis Wallace cast a greedy look at the dragon’s body. The dragon let out a low growl, and the breath from its nostrils froze the grass.

"Of course I understand. But my caravans conduct business with the Diocese of Rod. I need a route that bypasses that wasteland," Wallace said.

"Perhaps you can negotiate with Marquis Richard," Aen suggested.

"Heh, fine, fine. Then I’ll discuss it with Marquis Richard," Wallace laughed loudly.

"Thank you for your understanding." With Aen’s voice, the dragon lowered its head slightly.

As if bowing to Marquis Wallace.

Then, the dragon spread its fleshy wings and flew north.

Marquis Wallace narrowed his eyes, watching until the dragon disappeared from view before ordering the retreat.

Back at Wallace Fortress, he hesitated but ultimately didn’t consult the bishop. Instead, he dispatched multiple messengers to the south.

They carried news of the dragon.

The news of a Tier Six dragon spread swiftly through Greenwood. If not for the guidance of the Bards’ Guild, it might have overshadowed the events at the Golden Radiance Estate in York Territory, ruining Baron Belair’s plans.

Even so, for nobles with power, the news stirred them to action.

It was a dragon, after all.

Marquis Richard’s Dragon-Eagle was awe-inspiring. Since those small Dragon-Eagles and Griffins had flown into the Royal Castle, it was no secret that Marquis Richard was forming a Sky Knight Order.

Sky Knights—obviously more dominant than ground-bound knights.

But both beasts were tied too closely to Richard. He wouldn’t sell either.

While his power remained overwhelming, no other nobles dared pressure him.

But now, with a dragon in the North, thoughts began to form.

And their thinking was crude and direct—

War threats.

If the Northern Kingdom once dared to venture south into Greenwood, why couldn’t Greenwood nobles head north for a "hunt"?

Moreover—

With the Senate having replaced noble administrations in the southwest, many feared the Senate's actions.

Compared to suffering under both the Senate and Bishop Marl, the nobles in Greenwood’s east would rather lead their knights north for a fight. As for their territories—let the Church officials manage them. Their presence hardly mattered.

Ideally, when they returned, the Senate's chaos would be over.

Or better yet—the Church and officials would be at each other’s throats.

Still, only minor nobles took such decisive action.

Marquises and Earls stayed put.

They had orders from the Senate.

When the Senate noticed these nobles mobilizing, some Senators proposed suppressing them, forbidding them from leaving.

Senator Puniel was still battling dark creatures in the dungeons beneath the Northwind Mountains—what if those left behind got attacked?

Agamemnon had been about to issue an order—but after a conversation with someone, he refrained.

This puzzled the other Senators, but Agamemnon didn’t explain, and none dared to press him.

All these minor nobles gathered in Wallace Territory, which made Marquis Wallace both excited and anxious.

He hadn’t expected such intense repression within the kingdom.

With this momentum, the number of nobles in his territory neared what it was during the Night of Doyle. Nearly a hundred knights gathered, and the allied force of elite warriors approached four thousand.

Frightened, Marquis Wallace sought confession from Bishop Dominic.

After a sigh, Dominic assured him the Senate had no plans to unleash anything here, which finally set his mind at ease.

Then, while eagerly discussing how to catch a dragon over a few cups of honey wine, whether truly drunk or merely pretending, they began talking about how to divide the spoils.

Regardless, their core goal remained the same: capture a live dragon, breed it, and like the Dragon-Eagles, mass-produce flying mounts to form a Sky Knight Order.

This idea was met with unanimous support from the knights.

In short, while the nobles dreamed and the knights approved, morale soared.

But before launching their hunt into the North, they sent envoys.

They first intended to negotiate. Failing that, they would fight.

And under this guise, they also sought intelligence on the dragon.

Yet for the bishops, such efforts were unnecessary. A Revelation was all it took.

"Those dragons are born from divine outflow. After being carried by Dragon Souls, they take on draconic form. They are not magical beasts. They are akin to Fantasy Species. Unlike those born from the world, these dragons are born from gods. Their mothers are different," Jeven explained to Olivia.

"So, are they strong? How do they compare to Crulud?" Olivia only cared about strength.

She had quickly grown bored of the castle’s Dragon-Eagles and Griffins.

Those Tier Three beasts couldn’t keep up with her in battle and were mere toys to her.

"If Crulud faced one, the battle could last a day," said Jeven.

"Sounds pretty good," Olivia grew eager.

"What I meant was—Crulud would be eaten over the course of that day," Jeven clarified. "It would take the dragon about half an hour to kill Crulud. The rest of the day would be spent eating."

"I want it!" Olivia declared, her domineering voice revealing her satisfaction with the dragon.