Defeating the World with the Power of One Dragon!

Chapter 191: The Fall of the Old King, The Awakening of the New

The iron dragon's whispers echoed in her ears.

The human princess remained silent for several seconds before finally shaking her head. "Lothrian is the crown of the federation, the heart of nations. Even under the shadow of those behemoth empires, this land still shines with undying radiance."

She gazed at the silhouette of the royal capital beyond the window, the towering magic spires and bustling streets reflecting a resolute light in her eyes.

"The Holy King forged the kingdom's glory, but his departure won't topple these spires. Lothrian's foundations run deeper than you imagine."

Elina still held hope for the Lothrian Kingdom.

In her eyes, though the Holy King had fallen, the kingdom's legacy remained. Once they weathered the pain of losing their sovereign, with centuries of accumulated wealth and resources, the Lothrian Kingdom could still dominate the federation nations.

She said to the iron dragon, "I understand your meaning."

"But look—the war hasn't even begun, yet the royal family already anticipates danger, taking the lead in reducing expenditures and redirecting resources toward the military."

"As long as we don't wait helplessly but actively confront potential threats..."

"I believe with the kingdom's accumulated strength, we can surely navigate this turning point and stride toward an even more glorious future.""Lothrian once took pride in the Holy King, but in days to come, the Holy King's spirit will take pride in Lothrian."

The iron dragon rubbed his rounded belly, muttering, "Reducing expenditures... does that mean my provisions remain unchanged except for the Moonlight Dew?"

A single day of his meals could consume decades—even a lifetime—of an ordinary person's savings.

Cutting expenses?

Likely just empty words.

"Elina, as royalty, you know precisely how extravagant the royal family is. My very existence is proof—this isn't something that can change overnight."

The iron dragon cared deeply for this human princess before him.

"Don't wait until disaster strikes to regret," he said, voice laced with concern. "Come away with me, Elina. I'll protect you. Never forget my identity—I am a noble and mighty dragon, leader of the Iron Hybrid Dragons! Even in monster-infested wilds, I rank among the apex creatures."

Hearing this, Elina stared at the iron dragon.

Gordon the Iron Dragon had lived in pampered comfort; years of peaceful luxury had long dulled the savage ferocity inherent to his kind.

Yet as he spoke those words—

His eyes transformed into cold vertical slits, spines rising sharply across his body as overwhelming draconic pressure radiated from him.

A dragon remained a dragon.

No change in living conditions could reduce him to some docile house pet. When needed, his claws and fangs could still gleam with deadly edge.

Elina showed no fear of his dragon might.

Years of companionship and growth had made her regard the iron dragon as family rather than mere pet or playmate.

Seeing the usually lazy, gluttonous dragon reveal this aspect of himself, she suddenly smiled gently. "Gordon, now you look like a true dragon."

Gordon huffed. "What do you mean 'like'? I am a dragon!"

"Yes, you are. Born with wings to soar skies, yet confined to court because of me." Her smile gradually faded as she met his gaze directly. "Gordon... do you desire freedom? If you wish it, I can release you from court. You could return to wilds or journey wherever you please."

"Not unless you come with me."

The iron dragon persisted: "Life in wilderness lacks court's comforts, but holds its own charms. You might even grow fond of it."

Elina sighed.

She shook her head slowly. "It's not about preference."

Her expression turned complex. "I was born a princess—indulged by father and siblings, enjoying kingdom's resources, wanting for nothing."

"Now the kingdom stands at a turning point, its most critical hour."

"I cannot only remember I'm a princess during times of pleasure, then abandon my home when storms gather."

"Royal blood flows in my veins, Gordon. When the palace's final torch gutters, you'll find me atop the highest spire—wearing either crown of victory or shining as its most brilliant extinguisher."

"The people shall never see their princess flee battle."

Pausing, the human princess enunciated each word: "Whatever befalls the Lothrian Kingdom, I love this land beneath my feet, and will stand with it unto death."

The iron dragon fell silent.

He wanted to say—what difference could your staying make?

A princess without real power, a mascot's role—remaining changes nothing, only risks death, or worse.

But seeing the determination in Elina's eyes, he swallowed those words.

"Gordon, you should go."

"I'll provide ample wealth, send you wherever you wish."

Elina spoke softly.

Yet the iron dragon shook his head. "I'll remain... until the end."

Then added: "But that wealth you mentioned... don't think this gets you out of it."

Elina laughed and nodded, then leaned quietly against the dragon, finding strange peace in his scales' cool touch.

Gordon spoke no more, savoring this tranquility.

Only his eyes flickered thoughtfully, draconic face no longer its usual lazy slackness, mind racing on how to protect himself and Elina amidst coming chaos.

As a Young Adult Dragon, he possessed considerable power.

But against kingdom-level entities, this meant little.

Royal guards averaged Life Level 10+, with captains exceeding 15. Legends moved openly and in shadows.

Likewise, those coveting Lothrian's territories and wealth were no trifles. Even an adult dragon would struggle here, let alone one not yet fully matured.

Soon after, Elina departed the dragon's quarters.

Pondering deeply, Gordon concluded his only recourse was—when war inevitably reached Lothrian's capital—to spirit the princess away regardless of her wishes, then vanish into Ser Wilderness.

Suddenly—

Inspiration struck.

Thinking of Ser Wilderness reminded him of dragonets raised alongside him.

He knew fragments about Garoth's recent activities.

During dull court hours, he often perused federation bulletins, especially draconic news.

One report caught his eye—a Red Iron Hybrid Dragon slaughtering nobles and plundering gem mines.

Considering their rarity and matching age, he felt certain this dragon dubbed "Wings of the Skyrend" and "Death's Harbinger" was none other than his brother Garoth.

While Gordon enjoyed courtly comforts, Garoth had grown into a notorious dragon gracing federation headlines with such resounding epithets.

It once filled him with envy—believing had he not been taken to human lands, he too could have earned such renown.

"Garoth was always the wisest and strongest among us."

"He must be a Lord Dragon now, with territory and followers."

"Perhaps I could pay some price to contact him, seek aid—at least have someone meet us if we flee to wilds."

The iron dragon mused silently.

Though he lacked immediate means to reach Garoth, Gordon felt no urgency.

The Holy King's death remained fresh, news still spreading. Outwardly, the Lothrian Federation appeared calm.

His fears wouldn't materialize overnight—there was time for planning.

Besides, luck often favored him.

This predicament might resolve itself unexpectedly.

"Might as well eat first."

"Afterward, I'll train and digest—no more laziness."

The iron dragon coiled his tail around a bell, summoning servants with food.

Time flowed inexorably—two more years slipped by unnoticed.

New Calendar 249 (Bernardo's empires marked era's start from first starship's launch, symbolizing interstellar exploration's dawn).

Now three years since Lothrian Holy King's death, news had spread universally.

The Lothrian Kingdom officially announced his passing, holding a state funeral where envoys laid flowers and eulogies, praising his achievements while mourning his departure.

Every federation kingdom and duchy memorialized their founder.

The Holy King had been their pillar—establishing the federation, ending southern nations' conflicts, ushering peaceful prosperity.

Respect for him came genuinely.

Yet honoring the dead didn't equate to honoring his weakened kingdom—they merely suppressed ambitions temporarily.

The federation now moved through heavy atmosphere, nations showing no open friction, but silent undercurrents stirred.

Convergence Lands, Dragon Valley.

Shortly after funeral bells ceased across southern kingdoms...

While roses at the Holy King's tomb retained final fragrance...

Deepest within Dragon Valley's caverns, untouched stone cracked after ten motionless years.

As the old king fell, the Red Iron Dragon who'd slumbered for a decade finally stirred—opening eyes revealing pupils darker than deepest night.

PS: Month's end—seeking monthly votes!