In the middle of the night, at the Empire, Nacho Salaman walked into a roadside inn.
After exchanging a secret code with the innkeeper, the latter led Nacho to a private room upstairs.
Standing at the doorway of the private room, Nacho raised his hand to knock. Clearing his throat, he respectfully said,
“Master Ayrandi, I’ve returned.”
A deep male voice responded from inside, “Come in.”
“Yes, Master.”
Nacho pushed the door open. The innkeeper tactfully shut it behind him and then turned to leave.
Inside the room, the man addressed as Ayrandi was seated at a tea table on the balcony, one leg crossed over the other, gazing at the heavy night outside.
A tea set was rested on the table, with thin trails of steam curling up from the pot.
Nacho paused at the threshold, unable to take even a single step further without Ayrandi’s command.
After a brief silence, Ayrandi finally spoke, his tone sluggish,
“Bly, Jargus, Hammy, Felix, Walton, Kyra... Then there were Ravi and Starr from before. Since I entrusted you with this mission, a total of eight Dragon Kings have perished. I want to know—Nacho, is killing Leon Casmode really so difficult?”
Standing in the doorway, Nacho’s entire body tensed. Even swallowing required utmost caution.
His eyes widened as cold sweat trickled down his face. After a long moment, he replied,
“It was... an accident, Master. I saw him vanish into the spatial rift with my own eyes. Who could have guessed he would come back again...”
“I never believe in accidents, Nacho.”
The underlying message was that, stop spouting nonsense.
Nacho pressed his dry lips together, bowed at the waist, and said,
“My apologies, Master. It was my carelessness that caused these losses.”
Ayrandi let out a cold scoff before shifting the conversation. “Come and have a seat. I’ve brewed some tea.”
“Yes, Master.”
Only with Ayrandi’s permission did Nacho dare advance into the room and head toward the balcony.
He took the seat opposite Ayrandi at the tea table, though his demeanor was still tense.
“You’ve had a long journey. Drink some tea to soothe your throat,” Ayrandi said without looking at Nacho, his gaze still fixed on the dark night outside.
“Yes, Master.”
Nacho picked up the teacup with both hands and took a cautious sip.
The tea was already cooling and wasn’t particularly pleasant to drink.
Yet, Nacho knew Ayrandi hadn’t summoned him simply to share tea. Still, he dared not inquire directly.
When one serves a superior, the most important rule was to ask less and do more.
“How’s the tea?” Ayrandi asked.
“It’s excellent, Master.”
“Is that so? This kind of tea is called ‘Red Robe.’ It comes from the eastern continent.”
After a pause, Ayrandi slowly turned his head to finally look directly at Nacho. “Incidentally, it was also your father’s favorite tea.”
Upon hearing the word “father” from Ayrandi’s lips, Nacho froze obviously.
Instinctively, Nacho tightened his grip on the teacup but dared not to respond.
Seeing the heaviness in Nacho’s face, Ayrandi continued,
“After Victor was executed by Leon, you took on the task of killing Leon from me. I trusted you, Nacho—trusted you to oversee and command Ravi and the others. But the results you’ve delivered... well, they’re far from satisfactory.”
Gulp—
The bitter tea filled Nacho’s mouth as he forced down a hard swallow, his heart pounding with tension.
Ayrandi’s words carried a clear implication:
You’re being taken off this mission.
“Although the specific actions of the Dragon Kings were up to them, you were still involved in the overall strategy, weren’t you?” Ayrandi asked slowly.
“...Yes, Master.”
“Hmm, and that was part of our agreement when we first initiated cooperation with the Dragon Clan.”
Ayrandi sighed. “But losing eight Dragon Kings all at once, not to mention Constantine from long ago... Leon Casmode has certainly taught both us and the Dragon Clan a brutal lesson.”
“Master...”
“The Dragon Clan has already recalled Adam to deal with Leon. As for us in the Empire, it’s time for us to make some adjustments as well. Don’t you agree, Nacho?”
The message couldn’t be clearer more.
Nacho wasn’t stupid. He immediately shot to his feet, speaking rapidly,
“Please, Master, grant me one more chance! I swear I can lead the Dragon Kings to kill Leon Casmode!”
“I’ve given you plenty of chances, Nacho.”
Ayrandi remained utterly unmoved by Nacho’s pleas. “But facts have proven that this mission is far beyond your capabilities. Perhaps...”
Ayrandi directed his gaze down at the ‘Red Robe’ tea in his cup, his lips curling into a faint smile. “Perhaps you’ll have to find another way to rescue your father from prison.”
“Master!”
Thud—
This time, Nacho dropped to his knees before Ayrandi, clutching at Ayrandi's pants in a panicked plea,
“I beg you, Master, just one more chance! One last chance—I promise—”
“That’s enough, Nacho. Taking on an impossible task just to redeem your father’s name—that was foolish from the start.”
“Master! I—I—”
“The tea has gone cold, Nacho.”
“...”
Ayrandi sneered, then brushed Nacho’s hands off and stood up. He strode toward the exit of the room.
He didn’t pause, nor did he give Nacho another opportunity to declare his loyalty.
Loyalty?
Ha—loyalty was the last thing the Empire ever lacked.
Countless people lay firmly within Ayrandi’s grasp. Nacho Salaman was one of many.
Click—
The sound of the lock turning echoed as the door opened and closed. The sound of leather shoes striking the wooden floor faded into the distance.
Nacho knelt there, unmoving, as the midnight chill crept in from the balcony, slipping down his collar and enveloping his entire body in cold.
Dully, he turned his head to look at the cup of tea on the table.
“The tea has gone cold, Nacho.”
Ayrandi’s final words echoed in his mind.
Helplessness and despair engulfed Nacho.
In that moment, he seemed to realize that, in the face of absolute powers, black could be made white, and right could become wrong.
This power had once been within Nacho’s grasp, only to slip through his fingers like grains of sand.
He didn’t hate the invincible Leon Casmode. He only hated himself for failing to see clearly this absurd world earlier.
Nacho extended a trembling hand, lifted the tea cup, and drained the cold tea in one gulp.
Afterward, he rose and left the inn. Alone, under the moonlight, he trudged through the midnight streets of the Empire.
His silhouette was broken and gaunt, like an abandoned and ragged puppet.
...
After leaving the inn, Ayrandi returned to the royal capital in a carriage.
His attendant, Scott, stepped forward to report,
“Master, the Heart-Guarding Dragon Scales of Bly and the other Dragon Kings have been fully retrieved.”
“Good.”
“Additionally, Master, we’ve made new progress with the ‘Project’ in the far north. Would you like to take a look?”
At this, Ayrandi raised an eyebrow.
It seemed the night wasn’t entirely bad news after all.
“Lead the way,” instructed Ayrandi.
“Please follow me, Master.”
The two made their way through the royal capital, eventually descending into a secret underground chamber.
The chamber was filled with numerous Demon-Restraining Stones.
At the heart of the stone formation floated a glowing mass of white energy.
It hovered silently, its light crystalline and pure. It was milky white.
Ayrandi’s eyes lit up. “So this is the Primordial Power unearthed in the far north?”
“Yes, Master,” Scott replied.
“After Ravi’s death, without spatial magic to assist them, the Dragon Clan halted their activities in the far north. Even so, we still managed to secure a portion of the results—and that's what you see now.”
Ayrandi stared at the white, glowing energy, and even without any magical training, he could feel its immense power.
It was restless, yearning for a perfect container to contain it.
No wonder it required so many Demon-Restraining Stones to subdue it.
“Well done, Scott,” Ayrandi praised.
Scott bowed. “Thank you for the compliment, Master.”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself. Now that we’ve secured the Primordial Power, have we identified a suitable vessel?”
“We’ve narrowed it down to a few candidates. Among them, I’m most confident in these three brothers.”
Scott handed over a list.
But Ayrandi merely glanced at it briefly, not bothering to read closely. “This is your task—just present the results when you’re done.”
“Yes, Master.”
“With these, the ‘Dagger’ Project should soon come to fruition,” Ayrandi murmured.
Scott’s eyes flickered as he quickly agreed. “Indeed, Master. Once the project is finished, our cooperation with the Dragon Clan can progress further.”
Ayrandi cast him a cool glance. “The Dagger Project was originally conceived to deepen our alliance with the Dragon Clan. However, thanks to that fool Nacho’s failure to eliminate Leon Casmode... we’re forced to revise its objectives.”
“You mean... to use the Dagger Project against Leon?”
“Precisely. No matter how strong Leon Casmode is, he cannot defeat the Primordial Power of the Dragon Clan.”
Ayrandi’s gaze fell on the glowing white energy before him, his tone brimming with confidence.
“How brilliant of you, Master,” Scott flattered.
“By the way, is this Primordial Power derived from the Dragon God Tiamat?” Ayrandi asked.
“No, Master.”
Scott explained, “Tiamat’s resting place hasn’t even been located by the Dragon Clan.”
“However, the Primordial Power we’ve secured comes from Tiamat’s first successor, the initial Dragon King. In the Dragon Clan’s mythology, this entity is even called ‘The First King.’”
Alandi was slightly startled. "Oh? Quite a remarkable origin."
"Yes, my lord. Although this Primordial Power is merely a fraction of his strength, it is still overwhelmingly powerful beyond measure."
"In various legends of the Dragon Clan, the figure of this first king is ever-present. He has been a constant throughout the history of the Dragon Clan, making tremendous contributions to the development of the Dragon Clan, and being hailed as a hero of them. Even to this day, his name is still sung in praises."
Scott also directed his gaze toward the restless Primordial Power.
"Its name is... Primordial Dragon King, Noa."
