What? My queen sister has already taken down the Elven Royal Capital, Dewensen?

This was the most shocking news Silver Dragon Violet heard upon her arrival in Granyel.

Originally, she had been hoping to follow in her queen sister’s wake. Even if she couldn’t personally avenge her father with her own claws, at least she’d be able to witness an epic battle of grand scale.

But now… Dewensen was already conquered?

Although taking down a royal capital didn’t necessarily mean a complete victory in this war, its significance was undeniable.

For Dewensen was the place where her father, David Uthos, had ‘fallen.’ It was also the ‘Martyrdom Land’ where he shattered that scarlet star to unlock the Dragon Mad Lock.

His death, along with the fall of The Slaying King Star, was the spark. It swiftly spread like wildfire, uniting the disparate Chromatic Dragons and even the previously opposing Metal Dragons under a single banner. This ignited the great war of draconic vengeance against the Elves.

Whenever Violet thought about this, a sense of loss mingled with an ineffable pride. This pride would swell within her, making her want to devour a massive meal on the spot and then show off the two tons of whale jerky she carried.

When Violet, having finished her snacks and now humming tunes from her homeland, Dragon Island, reached the skies above Dewensen, she was startled by an Elf’s agonizing scream.

She saw a so-called ‘Elf King’ still wearing his crown. His dragonfly-like wings had been brutally torn off. A Black Dragon had strung him up upside down with city defense chains and was now smashing him against the already battered treehouses of Dewensen, reducing them to debris.

Meanwhile, the Chromatic Dragons lining the path, especially a group of Celestial Red Dragons with distinct Astral Plane features, let out excited Dragon’s Roars. They spitefully breathed out bursts of Dragon Breath, scorching the so-called Elf King.

Violet, who had received no shortage of political education from her mother, Alicia, could only sigh wistfully.

Twenty-five years ago, Elven Queen Arasya declared war on the dragons and was subsequently killed by Violet’s father in full view of everyone. Afterward, the High Elves underwent a series of overt and covert struggles for the throne of Elariya.

The crown changed hands several times, eventually landing in the grasp of an Elf King from a clan of Winged Elves from another plane.

However, no one anticipated that this hard-won throne would become the focal point for the dragons’ unleashed fury. Indeed, beyond the Elves themselves, his name was hardly remembered by any of the dragons.

And the highly efficient conquest of the Elven Royal Court… the Celestial Sed Ponga played an indispensable role in that.

Without divine intervention, no civilization’s capital city could withstand the saturation bombardment of the Celestial Red Dragon Clan of Sed Ponga pouring out in full force.

Overcoming this obstacle amidst countless difficulties was likely the most important work that my sister, Satilaesa, had painstakingly carried out over the years.

Violet knew the Sed Ponga Red Dragons were distant kin to her father; she even suspected her own blood might carry a trace of these Celestial Red Dragons. Yet, surrounded by such a large group of Red Dragons, she, a Silver Dragon, instinctively tucked her tail between her legs. This amusingly timid yet endearing behavior naturally elicited laughter from the assembled dragons.

Violet’s eyes immediately pricked with tears. Nevertheless, she tenaciously and bravely lifted her head, flying towards Dewensen’s Royal Capital. Her approach immediately aroused the curiosity and interest of some Red Dragon warriors; a few even licked their lips, their eyes glinting.

“Whose Dragon Whelp is this? Even a young dragon dares to enter the battlefield?”

“Whose whelp could it be, anyway?”

Leading the way, Brittany glanced back, revealing a nostalgic yet ferocious smile. “Of course, it’s the descendant of a hero, the daughter of David Uthos—Violet. Dare to lay a finger on her and see what happens.”

The group of Red Dragon pirates from Sed Ponga immediately showed their reverence in unison; even the cruelty that was initially second nature to them transformed, each one vying to appear more ‘amiable’ than the last.

As for the Red Dragon with a somewhat peculiar interest in the younger ones, it immediately shrank its head, afraid of attracting the attention of the others.

Fearless of death itself, these Red Dragon pirates, who lived on a knife’s edge, knew one thing. If word got out that one of them coveted *that* particular descendant, his fate would be ten thousand times worse than death. Brittany alone, not to mention the warriors at her side, would make him regret ever being hatched.

The various brutal games of the Red Dragon pirates could shatter the worldview of any ordinary creature.

Examples included forcing a dragon to eat itself starting from the tail—a practice known as the ‘Greedy Dragon’—hurling one onto the glacial cliffs of the Northland to be used as a dragon-shaped skateboard, or finding an unfortunate Blue Dragon to stuff into its cloaca for ‘electroshock therapy’ on its eggs, among other inventive cruelties. This process would continue until they were deemed thoroughly reformed—reborn as proper dragons, so to speak.

「Meanwhile, Violet flew towards the Elven Royal Court in Dewensen, now firmly in dragon hands.」

Within the Royal Court, David’s eldest daughter, the Yellow Dragon Satilaesa, was lounging. She lay lazily, like a great cat, in the grand hall that had once belonged to the Elf King. Lifting a claw, she toyed with the surprisingly small Mithril throne clutched in her grasp. Then, she turned her gaze to the center of the hall, where an Elf Mage was crammed into an iron cage by the dragons.

This was Menekver, the Court Mage of Dewensen. He was the primary power broker who had advised four Elven Kings of Elariya. Even after the death of Queen Arasya, he had effectively commanded the Elven Kingdom’s military forces.

He was also the chief strategist who had caused the dragons plenty of trouble over the years.

His ‘capture’ was one of the main reasons the dragons were so jubilant.

Only Satilaesa expressed her doubts, looking at the elderly mage.

“Why didn’t you escape?”

Theoretically, a seasoned legendary mage, especially an Elven legend who had lived for over six hundred years, wasn’t someone she could have captured if he hadn’t essentially ‘given up on escaping.’

The old mage in the cage let out a wistful smile.

“With Dewensen fallen, where else could I flee to?”

Satilaesa’s expression showed she had expected as much. She then asked a question that made all the dragons present, as well as the Elven captives behind them, stare in astonishment.

“Is this the reason why you chose to help us? Because you had already foreseen your own defeat?”

Menekver showed a look of reminiscence.

“This isn’t what I foresaw, but what was fated.

“Originally, when Arasya orchestrated her own death, we Elves still had a glimmer of hope for victory.

“But when your father also sacrificed his life to prevent the descent of The Slaying King Star, everything became inevitable…

“With The Slaying King Star gone from the skies and the shackles of the Dragon Mad Lock broken, the dragons’ return to the stage of civilization and power under his will was only a matter of time. This is an eternal, inherent disparity.”

Satilaesa nodded slightly, partly agreeing with this statement.

After all, Elves were considered ‘silver beings’ by humans, despite an average lifespan of merely seven hundred years. Dragons, however, lived for at least a thousand years, and their attributes utterly surpassed those of Elves. They were the true ‘gold beings’ at the apex of the food chain.

Then, Menekver spread his hands and continued.

“Since the outcome is already determined, what I had to do was shorten the process of this war as much as possible.

“That’s why, over the years, I have systematically sent the pro-war Elves to the battlefield, allowing them to return their souls to Afando.

“Meanwhile, all the qualified Godchosen have been defeated by you, one by one.

“Your Highness Satilaesa, as you wished, the entirety of Elariya no longer has… any forces that can oppose your reign.”

Upon hearing these words, the Elven captives standing behind the Court Mage were utterly dumbfounded. Their expressions seemed to scream, ‘We subjects were ready to fight to the death, so why has Your Majesty surrendered first?!’ Immediately, they began hurling intense insults, many of them quite vulgar and personal.

Even Satilaesa, the beneficiary, felt somewhat… well, she could barely understand his line of thought, but she could never agree with it.

If their roles were reversed, even in the most hopeless plight, she would fight for her kind until the very last moment.

It would mean nothing more than… death and the annihilation of her clan.

She believed her father would have made the same choice.

Unable to understand him, Satilaesa was even less inclined to thank a ‘traitor,’ but still, she asked,

“So, what do you wish to obtain from me? Oh, and I must inform you upfront: due to my father’s death, I must kill you to complete my vengeance.”

Menekver seemed as if he had long resigned himself to his death. Or perhaps, this was merely a predetermined part of the destiny he had spoken of. He looked up, not without pride, at the majestic Yellow Dragon before him and finally voiced the hope and vision he held in his heart.

“To my knowledge, Princess Satilaesa, before your father passed away, he sired a child with Grand Duchess Mirillian of the Silver Wheel.

“I hope… Your Highness will bestow upon this child the title of Crown Prince. If you proclaim this to the entire Continent, the Conservative Faction of Elves in Elariya will all pledge their loyalty to you. With that, this war would essentially be over…”

In that moment, even the Elves who had been cursing him were stunned into silence.

If so, wouldn’t the relationship between Elves and Dragons revert to how it was in the Dragon Era? Or perhaps, even progress further?

However, Satilaesa on the throne suddenly burst into loud laughter, continuing until she seemed too tired to laugh anymore. Then, she turned to the Court Mage.

“Mr. Menekver, aren’t you… a bit too naïve? Do you truly believe the mere continuation of a bloodline can quell a war? Can it cover up the Elves’ betrayal? Can it erase nearly thirty thousand years of your kind’s continuous persecution of dragons? And what on earth makes you think that we dragons fear war and death?”

“Of course, I understand all that,” Menekver replied with an indifferent smile. “But sometimes, sentient beings only need a glimmer of hope. With just that bit of hope, they won’t set foot on a path of ruthless desperation.”

Satilaesa’s smile faded.

“I’m sorry, I cannot grant this absurd request. Even now, my younger sister still hasn’t deigned to hatch from her egg. I cannot, therefore, drag her into the vortex of power without her consent. This too is a teaching from my father. I am proud, yes, but not so proud as to do such a thing.”

As Menekver closed his eyes in pain, Satilaesa continued.

“However, Grand Duchess Mirillian of the Silver Wheel did indeed spare us many unnecessary battles and deaths. Therefore, I will issue an order: the territory of Saeolus shall be designated a ‘Land of Noncombat.’ Any Elf who lays down their weapons and enters it will not be further slaughtered by us.”

Menekver took a deep breath and handed over a list of resistors compiled through magic. “Thank you for your kindness, Princess Satilaesa. Granyel is yours now.”

“Alright, how do you wish to die?” Satilaesa asked kindly.

“I only wish… to go to Hell,” the Court Mage said in utter despair.

“As you wish.”

Satilaesa flicked her tail. The Sword of Sovereignty, an emblem of Elven royalty, flew from its stone pedestal. It twirled through the air and, with a DING, embedded itself in the floor before Menekver.

Prayers state that those who commit suicide are not entitled to ascend to the Divine Realm.

However, this Court Mage, already nearing the end of his life, did not hesitate to pull the Sword of Sovereignty, once owned by Elf Queen Arasya, from the ground.

Then, under the complicated gaze of dragons and Elves alike, he thrust it into his own heart.

“Ah…” As Menekver exhaled his last turbid breath, he looked up through the iridescent, stained-glass dome of the throne room towards the sky. Suddenly, an expression of profound terror crossed his face, as if he had witnessed something truly horrifying.

“No…”

In that moment, it was as if he had…

Seen…

The true Hell.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep