Chapter 5: Primal Dragon King
Midnight, Empire—Nacho Salaman trudged into an inn, looking like he’d just lost a fight with a tornado.
After exchanging signals with the innkeeper, he was led upstairs to a private room.
Standing at the door, he knocked tentatively and cleared his throat, mustering up as much respect as he could manage, “Lord Andi, I have returned.”
A deep male voice came from inside, “Come in.”
“Yes, my lord.”
Nacho pushed the door open, and the innkeeper, picking up on the vibes, closed the door behind him and shuffled away.
Inside the room, the man known as Andi sat at a balcony table, legs crossed and gazing into the heavy night, looking like he was contemplating life, the universe, and everything.
A teapot sat on the table, steam curling up like it was having an existential crisis.
Nacho stood at the entrance like it was the entrance to a dragon’s lair—fearful and unsure. He couldn’t step foot inside without further instruction from Andi.
After a moment of silence that could curdle milk, Andi finally began, “Blay, Jagers, Hammy, Felix, Walton, Kaira… plus the earlier losses of Rave and Star. Since handing this mission to you, we’ve lost eight Dragon Kings. So, tell me, Nacho, is it really that difficult to k*ll Leon Casmod?”
Nacho’s whole body froze. He swallowed hard, being extra cautious—like trying to sneak past a sleeping dragon.
Eyes wide as saucers, sweat sliding down his forehead, Nacho finally managed to reply, “It was an accident, my lord! I swear I watched him vanish into a space rift. Who knew he’d be back…”
“I don’t believe in accidents, Nacho.”
The subtext: quit wasting my time with your excuses.
Nacho bit his dry lip and bowed, “I’m sorry, my lord, it was my oversight that… caused these losses.”
Andi snorted, then shifted gears, “Come sit down; I made tea.”
“Yes, my lord.”
Now given the green light, Nacho stepped into the room and made his way to the balcony.
He plopped down on the opposite side of the tea table, still vibrating with tension.
“You’ve had a rough journey, drink some tea to soothe your throat,” Andi said, still avoiding Nacho’s gaze like it was a particularly aggressive dragon.
“Yes, my lord.”
With both hands, Nacho picked up the teacup and took a tentative sip.
The tea was already lukewarm—not exactly prime sipping conditions.
But Nacho knew Andi didn’t call him in just for a tea party.
Still, he didn’t dare to ask. When you’re hanging around the boss, the motto is: ask less, do more.
“How’s the tea?” Andi pried.
“Very good, my lord,” Nacho hurriedly replied.
“Really? This tea is called ‘Red Robe’ and hails from the Eastern continent.”
Pausing for dramatic effect, Andi finally turned his head to actually look at Nacho, “Also, it was your father’s favorite tea.”
The mention of ‘father’ hit Nacho like a meteor.
He instinctively tightened his grip on the teacup, afraid to respond.
Noticing Nacho’s troubled expression, Andi continued, “After Victor was executed by Leon, you took on the task of killing Leon. I trusted you to supervise Rave and the others. But what you delivered has been… disappointing, to say the least, Nacho.”
Gulp—
The bitter taste of tea coated Nacho’s mouth; his throat felt like it was trying to win a marathon.
What Andi was really saying was: you’re clearly not cut out for this job.
“While the Dragon Kings decide on their actions, the overall plan still involved you, right?” Andi asked slowly, as if he were dissecting a particularly stubborn beast.
“…Yes, my lord.”
“Hmm, that was part of our agreement with the Dragon Race from the start.”
Andi sighed, “But losing eight Dragon Kings all at once, along with the long-gone Constantine—Leon Casmod really taught us and the Dragon Race a lesson, didn’t he?”
“My lord…”
“The Dragon Race has already summoned Adam to help k*ll Leon. So it’s high time we made some changes on our end, wouldn’t you say, Nacho?”
That was as clear as a dragon’s eye in bright daylight.
Nacho wasn’t a fool; he sprang to his feet, almost stammering, “Please, my lord, give me one more chance! I can lead the Dragon Kings to k*ll Leon Casmod, I swear!”
“I’ve already given you plenty of chances, Nacho.”
Andi remained unmoved by Nacho’s plea. “But the facts show that this task is far beyond your capabilities. Perhaps…”
Andi glanced down at his cup of Red Robe tea, his lips curling slightly, “You’ll need to find another way to free your father from jail.”
“My lord!”
Thud—
Without hesitation, Nacho dropped to his knees in front of Andi, clutching his pants like a drowning man clutching at a lifebuoy, desperately pleading, “I beg you, my lord! Just one more chance, the last chance, I will definitely—”
“Enough, Nacho. Trying to clear your father’s name by taking on a task you can’t possibly complete is downright foolish.”
“My lord! I, I—”
“The tea is cold, Nacho.”
“…”
Andi sneered, then shook off Nacho’s grip and strode toward the exit.
He offered no pause, no chance for Nacho to reaffirm his loyalty.
Loyalty?
Ha! The Empire had loyalty in abundance, and Nacho was just another number in Andi’s grand scheme.
Click—
The door clicked shut, and the sound of Andi’s polished shoes faded, leaving Nacho kneeling alone, the cold midnight wind swirling through the open balcony, slipping down his collar and chilling him to the bone.
He numbly turned to look at the teapot.
“Cold tea, Nacho.”
Andi’s parting words echoed in his ears.
Weariness and frustration washed over him.
In that moment, he grasped that in the face of absolute power, black and white turned gray, and right and wrong blurred.
Such power had once been within his reach, yet it slipped through his fingers like sand.
He didn’t hate that un-killable guy; he just hated that he hadn’t woken up to this ridiculous world sooner.
Nacho extended a trembling hand, picked up the teacup, and downed the cold tea in one go.
Then, he stood up, exited the inn, and alone, dragged himself through the moonlit Empire.
His silhouette was gaunt and despondent, like a discarded puppet.
…
After leaving the inn, Andi hopped back into his carriage and returned to the imperial city.
His attendant, Scott, approached him with news.
“My lord, we have successfully recovered the Heartguard Dragon Scales from Blay and the other Dragon Kings.”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Additionally, my lord, there’s new progress on the ‘project’ from the Extreme North Land. Would you like to take a look?”
At this, Andi raised his eyebrows.
Looks like tonight wasn’t all doom and gloom.
“Lead the way,” he ordered.
“Please follow me, my lord.”
The pair made their way to a secret underground chamber in the imperial city.
Inside the chamber, numerous magic suppression stones were arranged, and at the center lay a glowing white mass.
It hovered there, shimmering like it was auditioning for a role in a fairy tale.
Andi’s eyes lit up, “Is this the ‘Primal Power’ extracted from the Extreme North Land?”
“Yes, my lord.”
Scott explained, “After Rave’s d*ath, the Dragon Race paused their activities in the Extreme North due to the lack of spatial magic support, but we still managed to achieve some results—like what you see now.”
Andi gazed at the glowing energy, and even without ever practicing magic, he could feel its restless energy.
It trembled, yearning for the perfect container.
No wonder so many magic suppression stones were needed to keep it under control.
“Well done, Scott,” Andi complimented.
Scott bowed, “Thank you for your praise, my lord.”
“Don’t get too ahead of yourself. Now that we’ve found the Primal Power, have we found its container?”
“We have a few candidates. But the ones I’m keeping an eye on are these three brothers.”
As he spoke, Scott handed over a list.
Andi merely glanced at it, not bothering to examine it closely. “This is your task; just show me the results.”
“Yes, my lord.”
“With this, the ‘Sharp Blade’ plan will be wrapped up quite promptly,” Andi mused.
Scott’s eyes sparkled, “That’s right, my lord! Once it’s ready, our cooperation with the Dragon Race will progress further.”
Andi shot Scott a subtle look. “The ‘Sharp Blade’ plan was indeed initiated to deepen our cooperation with the Dragon Race, but that idiot Nacho hasn’t taken care of Leon Casmod yet. So… we may have to modify our original intention for the ‘Sharp Blade’ plan.”
“Are you implying… using the ‘Sharp Blade’ plan against Leon?”
“Exactly. Even if Leon Casmod is strong, he can’t possibly defeat the Dragon Race’s Primal Power.”
Andi fixed his gaze on the glowing white energy, confidence radiating from him.
“Your wisdom impresses, my lord,” Scott chimed in, flattery in full swing.
“Now, this Primal Power—does it come from the Dragon God Tiamat?” Andi inquired.
“Not quite, my lord. The site of Tiamat’s fall has yet to be located by the Dragon Race.”
Scott clarified, “The piece of Primal Power we have comes from the first-generation inheritor Dragon King of Tiamat. This king is known in Dragon Race legends as the ‘First King.’”
Andi’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Oh? Quite the notable figure.”
“Yes, my lord. While this Primal Power is merely a fraction of his strength, it’s still immensely powerful.”
“And the various myths of the Dragon Race feature this First King prominently; he’s woven into the history of the Dragon Race and has made significant contributions to its development. Even today, his name is still sung in ballads.”
Scott turned his gaze toward the agitated Primal Power, “His name is… Primal Dragon King Noah.”
