Chapter 436: Meeting of Two Kings
Northern Region, Platinum City, Pale Castle.
A powerful pressure permeated the castle—the pressure of a dragon.
Even though some might label it merely as a “Tier Six” dragon, this aura alone was enough to overwhelm most of those inside the castle.
After all, it was a dragon, and one that the King had personally ridden back to the castle.
The Northern Dragon, Ismir—the ballads sung by bards over the past few years had now become reality. The moment the dragon appeared in the skies above Platinum City, it had truly become a symbol of the North.
The dragons once seen in the trials of wolf, bear, and dragon were no longer myths—they now stood before all, visibly real.
But the legends of the Supreme King had been suppressed by Zeke through control of the bards.
After all, with proper planning, even a dragon of this level could be slain by a few Tier Five powerhouses or a group of Tier Four warriors led by a Tier Five.
Naturally, such a symbolic dragon could not be left outside, which was why even the castle’s chefs were all Tier Four warriors.
"Didn't expect you'd actually bring back a dragon," Zeke said with a tone of astonishment.
Aen acted very much like a man of the North, tearing off a chunk of bear meat with a bold bite.
The taste was mediocre at best—the previous chef had already been carried away.
Under the dragon’s pressure, the Tier Three chef had barely managed to prepare dinner for the utterly exhausted Aen before collapsing unconscious.
The food now prepared by the Tier Four warriors was just about edible.
"It’s far inferior to a Phantasm dragon. You call it a dragon, but it's really just in the shape of one," Aen mumbled as he chewed.
He had taken several days to recover, though his body still felt hollowed out. He needed to replenish his energy desperately.
"But this pressure is undeniably real—and it even breathes," Zeke replied.
"I’d prefer to call them wyverns rather than dragons or great dragons," Aen responded.
"That may be how you see it, but others disagree," Zeke said. "When you flew back into the castle riding that dragon, everyone in Platinum City fell to their knees, crying out your name, calling you the Northern Great Dragon."
"Or perhaps you are the true great dragon, and they are merely wyverns beneath your wings."
Zeke’s words were less flattery and more teasing, laced with emotion.
With the arrival of real dragons, the Dragon-Worshipping Cult he had fabricated no longer seemed like fiction—it was now entirely plausible.
Moreover, with these two Tier Six dragons present, the Northern Region would enter a period of absolute peace. No threat would dare to stir unless they wished to see Aen soaring into their lands, unleashing ice and fire to obliterate all.
Three Tier Six beings capable of descending anywhere in the Northern Region within a single day—this was an overwhelming deterrent.
"Perhaps. But in birthing them, I’ve also seen the end of my life," Aen said.
Zeke froze.
"I may not last as long as you said I would," Aen repeated. "And with each all-out battle, I draw closer to that end."
Zeke opened his mouth, then finally asked, "How much longer?"
Aen answered, "Perhaps only the bishops know. The Lord gave me a mission in this world."
The excitement that had surged in Zeke’s heart due to the dragons quickly faded.
Their appearance certainly brought him joy—but Aen’s mention of his dwindling lifespan filled him with sorrow.
It wasn’t only the thought of Aen’s death that troubled him, but also the problem of what would become of the two dragons afterward.
Given the unrestrained dominance and pressure they radiated, Zeke did not believe they would easily submit to others.
"This is troublesome," Zeke murmured.
"It is—but it’s also a blessing, is it not?" Aen replied.
Zeke sighed. "At least for now, it is."
Aen wiped his mouth and laughed. "You should learn from Bazle. He only wants to challenge the dragon. He doesn’t worry like you do."
"And honestly, you're acting far too un-Northern."
Zeke gave a bitter smile. "If I were as Northern as he is, then what of the future of the North?"
"I don’t want to say that it’s solely because of me that the North is where it is today—that would be an insult to all those who have worked alongside me to reshape this land—but as the one who mediates between all, I cannot be as pure as he is."
Aen praised, "No need to be so modest. You should act like a true Northerner—take pride in your achievements instead of hiding from them."
After a pause, he continued, "When I rode the dragon, I looked down upon the North from the skies. My gaze reached far—so far that from the Platinum City in the west of the kingdom, I could see the Giant Dragon Mountain Peak in the east."
"In that moment, I truly felt how vast the world is—and yet how small. The North is the same: vast, yet small."
"And the only measure of it all—is our heart."
"Zeke, stop lowering your head. Lift it. Look to the sky, look to the distance."
"Or rather—would you like to ride the dragon's back, to feel the freedom and thrill of soaring through the heavens?"
Aen ended with a question.
Zeke was moved.
But really, who wouldn’t be?
That was flying into the heavens.
Yet he still said, "That’s a dragon. With its pride, would it let a weakling like me ride it?"
Aen laughed. "They’ve submitted to my will."
Zeke smacked his lips, then said, "Then let it be a reward for the future—when I regain my courage to fight. If anyone should ride a dragon, it should be a warrior like Bazle. As for someone like me, who uses his mind, the courage to fight is no longer in my heart."
Aen shook his head. "Even now, you’re thinking about creating faith?"
Zeke replied, "The North needs sacred dragons. It’s a tradition stretching back to ancient times, and it ties perfectly into the Dragon-Worshipping Cult."
"The North is a land of warriors, and that is the only source of pride for this barren land. Thus, the highest honor must belong solely to the warriors."
After a moment’s hesitation, Zeke continued, "Please forgive my impudence, but Greenwood has griffins and dragon-eagles—they’re preparing to raise sky knights. Could your dragons do the same—produce sub-dragon breeds?"
Aen nodded without hesitation. "If you need them."
Zeke visibly relaxed and said, "If possible, those sub-dragons should be raised to at least Tier Five."
Aen burst into laughter. "You really know how to seize opportunity."
Zeke smiled and said, "Didn't those people in Greenwood always say Northerners were just savage barbarians? Their aerial mounts are only Tier Three, so Northern wyverns must be stronger. Icefield Wolves are Tier Three, Snowfield Berserk Bears are Tier Four, so dragons must be Tier Five."
Aen nodded and said, "Then we’ll raise Tier Five wyverns. And this beautiful lady—she must have come to the North at this time for news of the dragons as well."
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Zeke’s expression vanished in an instant, his face turned grim as he drew his sword, his gaze darting swiftly around the hall.
Yet he saw nothing.
With a trace of confusion, he looked toward Aen.
Noticing Zeke’s gaze, Aen stood up, his expression growing even more serious.
"‘Father bestowed upon me a Blessing. Except for a few special individuals, only the bishops of the Church or those not weaker than me can perceive my presence, so he can’t see me,’" said Olivia, who had appeared there.
"‘Even the world’s feedback caused by my actions is rendered reasonable by this Blessing.’"
As she spoke, Olivia stepped to the long table and casually swept her arm across it, knocking the candlestick onto the floor.
The crisp sound of clinking rang out clearly.
Aen glanced at Zeke—whose eyes still reflected nothing but confusion, as if he hadn’t seen the candlestick’s fall, nor heard a sound.
Receiving Aen’s glance, Zeke’s expression grew even uglier.
Aen took a deep breath and said, "‘I am Aen Ismir, King of the North. Tell me your name and identity, or I shall deem this an act of provocation.’"
A faint tremor could be felt through the air outside, followed by the roar of a dragon.
Olivia slightly lifted her chin and replied in an even more arrogant tone than Aen’s, "‘Olivia Corleon Lundex—King of Greenwood.’"
Aen’s eyes narrowed slightly. "‘Lundex? Are you King Pegira’s child?’"
Olivia answered, "‘Technically, I’m that old thing’s grandchild. His blood runs through my veins. But the only father I recognize is the Pope of the Church of the Sanctuary—Corleon. He is also my godfather.’"
Aen’s vigilance receded, and the tremors outside gradually ceased.
If it had merely been a matter of the name "Lundex", he would have remained wary—but with the involvement of the Pope, that was unnecessary.
After all, the world was never short of clever people.
He sat back down and gestured to Zeke to lower his guard. Then he said, "‘I didn’t expect the mysterious King of Greenwood to be such a beautiful lady.’"
"‘No helping it. That old thing was incompetent, so all he left was me and this bloodline,’" Olivia said bluntly. "'So I had no choice but to be king.'"
Such direct words, lacking even the slightest respect for King Pegira, caused Aen to inhale sharply. He felt he might have let his guard down a little too early.
Olivia continued, "‘I haven’t officially taken the throne yet. Father insists I must wait until I’m sixteen—an adult—before claiming the title.’"
"‘But I believe that, facing you, the King of the North, it is only respectful that I speak to you as the King of Greenwood.’"
Aen raised a mug of wheat beer from the table and said, "‘To the King of Greenwood.’"
Then he drained it in one gulp.
He then asked, "‘So, the King of Greenwood, having arrived in the North under such a Blessing, what brings you here?’"
Olivia replied just as directly, "‘I heard there were dragons in the North, so I came to catch two to play with.’"
"‘Father gifted me the Five-Colored Dragon Knights on my birthday, but those aren’t real dragons—dragons that can soar through the sky. They’re merely dragon knights.’"
"‘That fool Richard sent me griffins and dragon-eagles, but they’re too weak. Not fun at all.’"
"‘While these two dragons may not compare to true Phantasms, they suit me better.’"
"‘Father wants me to act like a girl, not go around fighting. And since you used to be a merchant, name your price.’"
Olivia spoke with striking boldness.
Aen’s eye twitched. Thinking of her godfather, he forcibly suppressed the urge to respond in the North’s traditional manner and instead returned to his old habits from his days as a merchant.
He said, "‘Dragons are symbols of the North—not items for trade. I must decline your request.’"
Olivia smiled and said, "‘I’m merely giving you a chance to name your price—not negotiating.’"
Aen’s face slowly grew cold. The air outside began to tremble once more. The roar of a dragon rang out clearly, and finally, it felt as if something massive had landed on the castle itself.
Several translucent windows were suddenly blocked. Dark dragon scales could be seen, and a dragon’s eye larger than the window stared in.
Aen said, "‘King of Greenwood, are your words not a bit too overbearing?’"
Olivia clenched one fist and said, "‘If I were truly overbearing, I would’ve just taken them. At the very least, I’ve now learned to ask their owner first—and I’m willing to offer a good price. I believe I’m already being merciful.’"
Her ruby-red eyes stared proudly at Aen, and within them sparkled something like excitement.
Aen fell silent. He understood her implication.
She truly wanted the dragons, and her desire to buy them was genuine. Her domineering temperament was real as well—but hidden within all this was the intention to fight.
This woman… with her aggressive and warlike spirit, she was more suited to be king of the North.
"——" Zeke once again searched the room but saw nothing amiss. Yet outside, dragons were already crawling over the castle, and their gaze was filled with fury.
Clearly, just the exchange of words had revealed that this visitor bore no goodwill.
Moreover, the fact that he couldn’t even sense her presence sent a chill through Zeke’s heart.
But, unable to perceive the opponent at all, he could only look toward the now-silent Aen.
Aen was deep in thought.
Olivia did not rush him. She simply sat atop the long table, one foot on a chair, watching the two dragons outside with great interest.
Olivia could feel that both dragons were watching her in return.
That meant—they were indeed beings on par with her.
This trip was worth it.
Not only had she found two toys to her liking, but also a worthy opponent.
She had heard that the King of the North was quite valiant—but she also knew that, before claiming the throne, he had merely been a merchant. So she had never imagined that the King of the North would be a Tier Six existence.
But now——
Olivia thought, this time, she might finally get a satisfying fight.
Back then, the previous King of the North had beaten her and then promptly died, leaving her with no chance for revenge.
Although this Aen wasn’t the same man, he was still the King of the North. Accepting the challenge left by the former king was only natural.
"‘Let us decide this in the way of kings,’" Aen said at last.
"‘Let’s fight. If you win, then they’re yours. I won’t take a single coin.’"
Aen no longer intended to haggle.
That merchant-style bartering had no place at the level of kings—especially when facing someone absolutely domineering.
Rather than entangle themselves in petty bargaining, it was better to meet the challenge head-on.