novelraw Chapter 506: Crowned Legendary, Domain of Time
Chapter 506: Crowned Legendary, Domain of Time
Lothrian Kingdom, Valdo, within the royal court
Late at night, the city had shed the daytime clamor and ostentation. Patrol guards in light armor moved with muffled footsteps, and the corridor of the royal court held only the quiet glow of magic lamps, casting the stone pillars and hanging banners in half-light.
The king’s bedchamber lay deep within the royal court.
Raymond lay on a wide velvet bed, sleeping soundly.
He was in his prime, his features resolute. Even in sleep, the lines between his brows still showed traces of fatigue from state affairs, yet the composed bearing forged by long command of a powerful kingdom was not hidden by slumber.
“Your Majesty! Your Majesty! Urgent military news! From Theo!”
Sudden, urgent knocks and shouts extinguished the quiet in the bedchamber.
Raymond snapped awake, the last vestiges of sleep evaporating instantly.
He did not respond immediately. He remained on his back, inhaled deeply, then slowly exhaled.
A foreboding sense rose in Raymond’s mind.But he knew that as king he could not lose his composure at any time.
He sat up. His silk nightclothes made a slight rustle. He smoothed his slightly disordered garments, brushed a few strands of hair from his brow, then looked toward the door and spoke in a steady voice.
“Enter.”
The bedroom door opened from outside. The head chamberlain looked anxious, and behind him hurried a bedraggled messenger.
“Your Majesty!”
The messenger’s voice trembled. He bowed his head and spoke very quickly, “The Kingdom of Theo… Silverglow City was attacked!”
Raymond’s gaze froze.
The messenger swallowed and continued the report, “Garoth Ignas, that Red Emperor… he descended from the high sky, within one minute consecutively broke through Silverglow’s two major protective arrays, stormed the throne hall, captured King Torfin alive, and then… then left as he came, without a scratch.”
Raymond sat on the bed’s edge, motionless.
Blood seemed to stall inside him for a moment, then surged, pounding at his eardrums.
It took him several seconds to fully absorb the astounding meaning of that sentence.
“Captured alive?” he repeated the key words, “In Silverglow City? The Red Emperor… personally?”
Absurd.
That was the first clear feeling to rise in his mind.
Theo was a crucial piece in Lothrian’s new federation plan, a key pawn to contain Aola’s expansion and to assert Lothrian’s authority.
Not long ago, he had, in the name of Lothrian, expressed concerns to the Red Emperor and hinted that restraint was expected.
How dare Aola?
How could that red iron dragon, Garoth Ignas, dare?!
After Lothrian had clearly made its stance known, Aola did not seek negotiation or de-escalation. Instead it chose the most brutal and direct method, overturning the board.
This was not only an attack on Theo, this was a trampling of Lothrian’s prestige!
“Not long ago… I just spoke with him.”
Raymond slowly rose, walked to a low cupboard, poured a glass of water and drank: “He rejected the new federation’s alliance invitation, and now he has snatched away the king of our ally Theo…
“This dragon is utterly lawless, unbridled!”
“He truly… does not regard Lothrian in the least!”
A surge of deeply offended anger sprang in Raymond’s chest, burning his reason.
He could almost see that red iron dragon’s arrogant vertical pupil, hear the mockery embedded in its deep voice.
Lothrian’s millennia of glory, the achievements of the generations of prior kings—was this to be so lightly scorned in his era by a beast?
He took a long breath and slowly exhaled, repeating the cycle three times, forcing his tumultuous emotions to calm.
He must not act rashly.
Anger would not solve the problem.
The Red Emperor… Garoth Ignas.
Since founding Aola, this legendary dragon had repeatedly done the unthinkable; he could not be measured by ordinary standards for kings or leaders.
He was a dragon, a powerful and willful evil dragon.
Raymond had a strong premonition.
If this incident could not be handled properly, if Aola as an aberrant troublemaker could not be settled, then his painstaking plan to rebuild the federation and restore Lothrian’s former glory would likely suffer a fatal blow, perhaps even be snuffed out.
He set down the cup, turned to the head chamberlain and the messenger, his face once again wearing the calm of a king.
“Convene an emergency privy council.”
“Immediately summon the commander-in-chief of the military, the chief of intelligence, the foreign minister, and…”
He paused slightly, his gaze darkening, “Please request Ancestor Sodrian to come.”
Sodrian—this name seemed to carry some magic: the head chamberlain and the kneeling messenger both shuddered slightly.
The chamberlain bowed deeply. “Yes, Your Majesty.”
He turned swiftly, signaled the messenger to follow, and the two hurried out down the corridor, disappearing into shadow.
Raymond stood alone in the center of the bedchamber. Outside the window the night remained heavy.
He opened the slightest crack and cold night wind rushed in, sharpening his thoughts. He looked at Valdo’s sleeping silhouette, the distant watch towers blinking watchfires.
“Red Emperor… troublesome fellow.”
He muttered softly.
Half an hour later, in a small confidential council chamber.
The atmosphere was grave. Lothrian’s important ministers gathered.
An allied king captured alive—this event would have enormous repercussions.
The military commander was the first to break the silence.
“This is a declaration of war! A naked declaration of war!”
“Aola did not attack Theo to strike at Theo alone, they have slapped Lothrian in the face! To capture an allied king alive in his own throne hall… has history ever seen so outrageous and vile an act?”
“We must respond with the utmost force: immediately send legions to the Theo border, and issue Aola a final ultimatum demanding the unconditional release of King Torfin, along with a public apology and reparations! If they refuse…”
A cold light flickered in his eyes, “Then we march at once and crush the Aola Kingdom!”
Across from him, the chief of intelligence, a sharp-eyed middle-aged woman, spoke.
“Send reinforcements? And then what?”
“Full-scale war with Aola?”
“Aola is no longer what it was. Their number of legendaries may not match ours, but each one must not be underestimated. They have added two dragon legendaries, and the Red Emperor himself… is a terrifying dragon beyond ordinary measure.”
“Direct conflict with Aola would disrupt our plans and exhaust the strength we have been amassing to rebuild the federation.”
“That would do Lothrian no good.”
The military commander frowned. “Do we just sit and watch? What credibility will the new federation have then? How will other kingdoms view us?”
“A leader who cannot even protect an allied king—who would truly follow such a leader?”
He turned to the far end of the long table where King Raymond sat, silent.
The king had changed into formal attire. His hands were folded on the table, his expression calm as still water, betraying little.
“Your Majesty, I insist we must show strength immediately!”
The commander said in a grave voice: “Dispatch troops to Aola, strike hard so they feel pain, and let the other kingdoms see how strong Lothrian truly is and why they should follow us.”
Raymond did not answer at once. He lowered his gaze and reflected quietly.
Then the oldest-serving foreign minister spoke slowly.
“We must act, yes.”
“We cannot be indifferent about Theo’s plight. But how we act requires strategy.”
He leaned forward slightly, his cane resting at his side.
“First, we must be clear: Aola Kingdom, at least nominally, remains our ally. The old treaties are still in the archives; until the alliance is formally broken, we should not treat them entirely as an enemy.”
“Second, consider another angle.”
“The Red Emperor’s brazen seizure of King Torfin is ferocious, yes, but it has put Aola and himself in the moral wrong.”
“Today, if the Red Emperor can deal with Theo’s king in such a way; tomorrow, will he use the same method against other kings or leaders who displease him?”
He paused, eyes glinting. “But this actually benefits us.”
The king looked at the foreign minister.
For a long silence, the minister smiled and then spoke: “Fear is a powerful adhesive.”
“Some kingdoms were wavering over joining the new federation, hesitant and doubtful of Lothrian. At this moment, they may sympathize with King Torfin’s fate and feel a strong sense of crisis.”
The foreign minister said warmly, “What Lothrian needs now is a target big enough to make other kingdoms wary or even fearful.”
“That will draw them closer to the protection under Lothrian’s banner.”
“The Red Emperor and his kingdom are playing that role for us.”
He looked to the king and continued, “Therefore, Your Majesty, our primary strategic objective should not be an immediate military clash with Aola. Instead, we should exploit this incident to diplomatically and in public opinion isolate Aola, accelerate consolidation of the new federation internally, and bring those frightened kingdoms quickly into our fold.”
“As for Theo…” Minister Isan lifted his teacup and sipped lightly.
“With King Torfin captured, Theo will inevitably erupt in turmoil. We can act quickly to support a reliable, pro-Lothrian candidate to stabilize Theo and prevent collapse or civil war.”
“A stable Theo dependent on us can serve as our stepping stone or shield.”
To Lothrian’s leadership, Theo’s value lay in its ability to check Aola. At Aola’s founding its footing was unstable and enemies surrounded it; Lothrian was happy to support it then, hoping the northern beast would gnaw at Theo and weaken the Reebos-aligned kingdoms.
Lothrian had gotten what it hoped for.
But who could have foreseen that under the Red Emperor, Aola would expand at a shocking pace and begin to influence Lothrian in return?
Times had changed.
Theo had transformed from an adversary to a necessary ally to restrain Aola.
Debate continued.
The clash was mainly between advocates of a strong military response and proponents of gradual diplomatic influence.
King Raymond listened quietly, his expression thoughtful as he weighed pros and cons.
Soon, a soft cough sounded.
Everyone almost simultaneously looked up toward the source.
Unnoticed before, the closed door opened slightly.
A figure stepped from the dim hallway into the chamber’s bright light.
He appeared very young.
About seventeen or eighteen, he had a youthful face, smooth black hair, calm brows, and clear eyes that nevertheless seemed tempered by long years. At his waist hung an inconspicuous, weathered small round shield and an old-fashioned long sword. His attire was plain.
The shield and sword bore many fine cracks and even small chips.
They looked as if they had accompanied the owner through countless brutal fights—weathered but never forsaken.
At the instant this youthlike figure entered, an indescribable, peculiar sensation enveloped everyone.
It felt like… a thickening.
As if the light, the flow of air, even the transmission of sound around him slowed and clarified. Light cast a halo at his side; the trajectories of floating dust were visible to the naked eye.
Sodrian Lothrian.
A member of the royal line, an ancestor of King Raymond, a being over four hundred years old.
He was hailed as the “Crowned Time Warden,” and was the strongest existing figure in the Lothrian Kingdom.
Under him, during the postwar rapid development period, another relatively young crowned figure had arisen, but neither power nor seniority could match Sodrian.
Two crowned legendaries coexisting in one era—this was part of the confidence behind Lothrian’s attempt to recreate its glory.
“Ancestor, you have come.”
King Raymond rose from his seat and slightly inclined his head in respect, using a formal address.
The other ministers also stood and bowed.
In public, Raymond was the king and handled affairs of state, but Sodrian Lothrian was the undisputed anchor of the kingdom—an uncrowned king.
If Sodrian wished to involve himself extensively in governance, he could have taken the throne.
But not every legendary possessed universal talents like a Holy King who excelled in many domains.
Sodrian had devoted almost his entire life to honing martial craft and ascending in realm; he had little interest in tedious state matters and freely admitted he was not skilled in them.
His role in Lothrian was more that of a lofty guardian.
Sodrian walked with unhurried steps and stopped not far from King Raymond.
“I am roughly aware of what happened in Theo.”
“The Red Emperor, Garoth Ignas… he is even more unpredictable than your father foresaw, and a decidedly dangerous existence.”
His voice sounded somewhat hoarse, at odds with his youthful appearance.
Raymond’s heart jolted. “Ancestor, on what basis do you judge this?”
Sodrian considered briefly and said, “His legendary rank may not be extremely high, yet he pierced two protective arrays guarding the throne hall and captured a king alive.”
“In terms of destructive capability, he surpasses our human crowned legendaries.”
“Moreover, he likely possesses abilities that break magic or anchor space.”
At these words Raymond pressed the most crucial question: “Ancestor, if you personally confronted him, would you have confidence?”
Sodrian was silent for several seconds.
Then he looked at the king again.
“Until I truly meet and clash with him, I cannot give you a definite answer.”
“On the legendary battlefield, variables are too many—rank, domain, traits, race…and even the environment and luck at the time can decide the outcome.”
He shifted tone slightly.
“However, since I enjoy the devotion of generations of Lothrian and live in the realm built by predecessors, kinsmen, and descendants, I naturally bear the duty to safeguard Lothrian’s continuity and prosperity.”
“Your father, the previous king, O’Brien.”
“Before he died, his evaluation of the Red Emperor was complex—he admired the dragon king’s power and wisdom, yet keenly sensed that one day this dragon might stand opposed to Lothrian’s interests and become a grave trouble.”
“Therefore he entrusted a charge to me before his death.”
Sodrian’s voice dipped and took on gravity as he continued: “If, after serious judgment, a future king concludes that the existence of the Red Emperor has become a major threat requiring elimination…”
“Then I will spare no cost to personally organize and carry out a decapitation strike against the Red Emperor.”
“Spare no cost.”
He spoke those words lightly, but a chill ran through everyone present.
That likely implied battles beyond conventional limits, perhaps even a readiness for mutual destruction.
Raymond’s heartbeat quickened, his eyes flashing with complex thought.
Decapitate the Red Emperor?
Although the ancestor did not promise certainty, having uttered a vow to spare no cost, Raymond believed that should he truly commit, the Red Emperor would find it hard to survive.
Sodrian Lothrian, the “Crowned Time Warden”—this title was not won by chance.
Sodrian’s path to legend was not built on a rare bloodline or a hidden profession.
He had started as the most ordinary of shield-and-sword warriors, following a common warrior progression.
That path often seemed mediocre among peers.
But Sodrian refashioned the ordinary into the extreme.
Through daily, yearly repetition, in countless dull dawns and deep nights, he honed sword and shield craft to an astonishing degree. He had decent talent, and the kingdom’s resources supported his steady rank growth.
At the moment he ascended to crowned rank, his domain was enhanced.
The once unremarkable shield-and-sword fighter underwent a fundamental transformation, glimpsing and seizing a fragment of power that could interfere with the dimension of time!
Though only a sliver, it was sufficient to remake him.
In shield technique, Sodrian could extend his domain onto the shield’s surface.
If he could block an enemy’s strike just before it struck the shield, the effect was not only absolute defense, but could reverse all damage back to the attacker, injuring them instead.
In sword technique, the domain’s effect was even more wondrous.
If he could evade an attack at the instant before it landed, his domain would alter time’s flow, making his own time move relatively faster. His perception would follow the change, allowing him to unleash counterattacks at unimaginable speed.
...
These effects demanded timing so precise it bordered on obsession—no errors allowed.
Yet Sodrian had reached peak mastery, catching those fleeting perfect moments in the blink of an eye.
Or perhaps…
It was because he already possessed such extraordinary skill that upon achieving crowned rank the domain's enhancement aligned with him.
Peak technique plus a crowned domain infused with the secrets of time.
This combination made him Lothrian’s most unbreakable shield and sharpest blade.
“The Red Emperor, though mighty, his physical form akin to a natural disaster, would likely find it hard to gain advantage against Ancestor Sodrian who can meddle with time; he might even be countered… time’s power is simply transcendent.”
Raymond’s thoughts churned.
“If Ancestor could further break through to the Mandate of Heaven level, in combat he might even be more terrifying than the Holy King ancestor.”
“Alas,” he sighed inwardly, “time is merciless. After crowned ascension Ancestor’s appearance and bodily functions returned to youth, but his true lifespan did not increase—he cannot hope for the Mandate of Heaven domain.”
He gathered his scattered thoughts and refocused on the immediate crucial decision.
Decapitating the Red Emperor could resolve Aola’s variable once and for all.
Given Aola’s distorted structure that relied heavily on the Red Emperor, losing that dragon would cause the kingdom to collapse and fragment.
Then the most dangerous thorn among the Romania nations would be gone.
But what next?
The foreign minister’s words echoed again.
Aola and the Red Emperor’s existence furthered Raymond’s grand plan to rebuild the federation.
If the Romania nations continued as they were—each paying lip service while being duplicitous—when would he ever see Lothrian’s resurgence?
Would he live to see that day?
Conversely, if there existed a powerful, savage, unruly common enemy like the Red Emperor who continuously stoked fear among neighboring kingdoms, making them feel their security threatened… their desire to seek shelter and band together would surge.
Lothrian would naturally be their first choice.
The federation’s cohesion might therefore form faster.
Use the blaze the Red Emperor ignited to temper the federation Raymond sought!
...At that thought, the resolve in Raymond’s eyes replaced earlier hesitation. He lifted his head and looked at the crowned ancestor standing before him, his face now decisive.
“Ancestor Sodrian.”
“My father’s dying instruction to you was necessary and a responsible safeguard for our kingdom, but…” he continued, “I believe decapitation should be our final option, not our first response.”
Sodrian listened quietly, his youthful, delicate face unchanged—neither approving nor opposing.
Human life is so short. Having immersed himself in cultivation to pursue higher realms within his limited lifetime, he lacked interest in intricate statecraft and would not presumptuously interfere when the reigning king and his council reached a decision.
He was Lothrian’s guardian, not its policymaker.
“Decapitation plan—put it on hold for now.”
Sodrian glanced at the king and added calmly, “Raymond, you are king; your judgment steers the realm. If at some future moment you change your mind and decide the Red Emperor must be eliminated…”
“Then come tell me.”
After saying this, his figure gradually blurred and vanished from the council chamber.
A few ministers looked at one another, then all eyes settled on the king.
The meeting resumed and began finalizing specific action plans.
When the final plan was set and people dispersed, the deep night outside had begun to give way to light; dawn approached.
The king climbed a stairway.
When he reached the top tower terrace of the royal court, the sky already showed a clear wash of early light. Night receded like a tide; Valdo city gradually awakened in the dawn, its outlines crisp.
“Red Emperor… the blaze you have kindled suits my purposes. Let us see who can better master the flames to achieve their aims.”
The king stood in the morning wind, eyes sweeping the vast land.
In the rising light, there seemed to be a fire burning in his gaze.
It was called ambition; it was called desire for greatness.