Chapter 176
Chapter 176
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 176
Chapter Title: Intensifying Throne Competition (1)
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Theo remembered the Subjugator Dragon's personality as utterly peculiar.
On the surface, he was an arrogant, stubborn, overbearing brute.
But inside, he was a monster harboring dozens of sly foxes.
That was exactly what gave birth to the tragedy of the Gishar and Anzio siblings.
The Subjugator Dragon had taken the twin siblings as disciples, yet never shared that fact with them.
He had only vaguely mentioned to their other brothers that he was lending a bit of aid due to old ties.
And so the siblings lived on, each convinced they alone were the Subjugator Dragon's special, one-and-only disciples.
When the throne competition heated up, they pointed fingers at each other as impostors, clashing more viciously than sworn enemies.
‘To be precise, Gishar danced right in the palm of Anzio's hand.’
Anzio had a quiet demeanor.
He acted so unobtrusively that even as one of the top five candidates, he rarely drew attention.
Most of the feats were showcased by Gishar, who soaked up all the spotlight.
But that was merely Anzio's facade.
Spotlight came hand in hand with hostile stares.
Anzio exploited that cunningly.
He dumped the fallout from all his deeds squarely on Gishar.
By the time Gishar snapped out of it, enemies surrounded him on all sides.
Anzio chopped off his head without a second thought as Gishar pleaded for rescue.
Then, posing as the savior, he absorbed the enemies along with the foundation Gishar had painstakingly built.
Successfully claiming the title of the Subjugator Dragon's sole heir.
Unintentionally, though, Gishar's head had rolled right here.
A situation about ten years ahead of his previous life.
The foundation Anzio could build was naturally far smaller.
But Gishar's was nearly complete by this point, so it was no small prize.
The real issue was that the Subjugator Dragon was still very much active.
-Depending on what stance the Subjugator Dragon took, the countermeasures would change.
‘Having to face the Subjugator Dragon first in this full-blown throne competition. Way too high difficulty.’
Theo couldn't shake the feeling that this life was anything but easy.
* * *
Theo conjured magical flames to incinerate all of Gishar's corpses.
He had no plans to announce Gishar's death to the world.
Sure, if Gishar vanished without a trace, those in the know would start whispering.
But evidence—or lack thereof—made all the difference.
‘No need to shoulder the stigma of sparking infighting right before a major war.’
Once the bodies crumbled to ash and vanished.
As Theo pulled back his hand, Lodbrok spoke up.
「My mate.」
“Yes.”
「You plan to keep everything that happened in this White Tower under wraps?」
“Yes. Though... is there a problem?”
Lodbrok had apparently already read Theo's mind.
She nodded.
「Personally, I'd advise against it.」
An unexpected statement.
Theo's eyes went wide.
「This is just my counsel—up to you whether you heed it. But you've always struck me as overly cautious.」
“Me... cautious?”
Theo blinked.
Wasn't "cautious" a term for schemers pulling strings from the shadows?
Theo prided himself on his overwhelming score at the Awakening Ceremony, followed by one audacious move after another.
Lodbrok's words felt downright strange.
「Sure, you've forged a career fit for throne aspirations. But it always stops at a certain 'line.'」
Line.
Something tugged at the edge of Theo's mind.
「You've flashed your resume, but never shown everyone why you're throne-worthy.」
“Well, in Ragnar, the strong claim everything...!”
「Right. Just be strong enough. Talent, ambition—all essential, the core of it. But that's mere groundwork. Human society demands one more layer.」
Lodbrok's gaze deepened.
「Suitability.」
“Suita... bility?”
「Exactly. You need to convince the masses that you—and only you—can reshape Ragnar. To earn their faith that you'll usher the North into a golden age, how?」
Theo finally grasped what Lodbrok was driving at.
「Prove your legitimacy.」
Legitimacy.
The word pressed heavily on Theo's chest.
Cecilia had only recently relocated to Camellia Palace.
Truth be told, Theo was still a harem-born bastard.
One who should have faded into obscurity without ever seeing the light.
「Ragnar's got no shortage of pureblood purists, right? They all look like mutts to me except Sigurd. Either way, the closer you edge to the throne, the fiercer the pushback.」
In that instant, clarity washed over Theo like a veil lifting.
“You mean I should demonstrate that my legitimacy outshines even the pureblood heirs.”
「Precisely. And you've got plenty to flaunt.」
Lodbrok scanned the surroundings.
The guardians wailed in unison.
Just being chosen by an Ancient Dragon would rattle plenty of folks.
The Elder Council—desperate to drag him down—would be hit hardest.
「Not to mention half a one like me.」
“...But legitimacy without power just paints a bigger target.”
That was Theo's exact worry.
What if the five candidates colluded to crush him?
Even he'd struggle to hold them off.
But,
「Hasn't the time for such fretting passed?」
Theo glanced at the spot where Gishar had stood moments ago.
She might be right.
「You've got a concrete goal anyway: seize the White Dragon Knights within two years. Doesn't that mean it's time to charge ahead even bolder?」
If you're claiming your spot, strike first—before anyone else steps up.
That's how it rang in Theo's ears.
“......”
Theo shut his eyes, lost in thought.
Only after a long pause did he open them.
His reflection gleamed in Lodbrok's pupils.
“I've decided.”
「On what?」
“This place.”
Theo smiled.
“I'll make it ground zero for my bid.”
* * *
“Isn't this overkill? Turn into a dragon and get three big shots to ice me out.”
Julius cracked a joke, but his sword-wielding foes didn't crack a smile.
Sword Dragon Plum Palace Lord, Ice Dragon Niel, and even Phantom Dragon Magnus.
Plum Palace Lord and Niel merely blocked his path with clear intent.
Magnus, though, radiated killing intent like he might cleave Julius down on the spot.
Gooooong—
The four auras clashed, birthing a massive vortex that clawed at the heavens... triggering a fresh upheaval.
“Huh? Sky's splitting open?”
“No, moron! That's the sky shattering!”
White Dragon Knights idly sky-gazing in jest,
Black Iron Knights finally catching their breath,
Crimson Sword Knights reeling from crushing defeat,
Blue Sword Guard standing stern.
All fixed their eyes upward in unison.
The sky was rending.
Night sky. Pristine moonlight shattered to pieces.
Thunderclouds spawned by the vortex blanketed the heavens, devouring stars, unleashing bolts and gales upon the earth.
Crack! Crackle-crackle!
Rumble! Rumble!
Kukukuku......
The quake that followed made standing a Herculean feat.
Ragnar's vaunted four elite units' swordsmen felt stark naked.
For all their sky-high pride in their prowess.
This surreal scene dwarfed them into insignificance.
Yet the deepest shock struck another.
‘This...!’
Torkel.
He now keenly grasped his own arrogance.
-You're a genius. Someone like me's no big deal to you.
Awakening Ceremony, he recalled.
Words from peer Naban.
-So you'll never get why I snap my blade like this. Someday you will, though. When? Ha! When a genius tops you.
Right then, Torkel fully got it.
A genius beyond him.
No, geniuses.
Four of them.
Right there!
‘No. If I hit their age...!’
Mere self-delusion.
Torkel averted his eyes, but deep down, he knew: it wouldn't cut it.
As Naban said, at their age, he'd match—even exceed—them, no doubt.
Maybe claim a new Ninth Dragon slot.
But that was the ceiling.
He could never transcend to something else.
-His father, the man he'd witnessed, regarded hordes like them as trifles.
For the first time, gloom shrouded Torkel's ironclad confidence.
No way!
Torkel yearned to bellow.
He fought to rise against the gale.
‘Me... crumble here? After coming this far? Throne's still miles off. Can't fold now...!’
Julius, Plum Palace Lord, Niel, Magnus—who cared.
Torkel unleashed his ultimate reserve. The thing coiled in his heart.
Thump-thump-thump-thump!
Heart pounded berserk.
Mana surged wildly.
Overwhelming presence bloomed outward, laced with viscous madness.
The kind that stripped sanity—or twisted minds outright.
“This...!”
“Torkel?”
“Black Iron Knights Captain! What in the—?”
Even the rival dragons whipped around in alarm as the madness erupted volcanically.
A spine-tingling something.
Madness rampaged.
Hell-bent on shredding the Ninth Dragons' auras. Torkel's throne-lust fanned the frenzy.
But,
Kwarrrrrung!
The briefly dormant White Tower blazed anew.
Leftover stairs ignited. At the thirteenth floor's glow, the tower boomed—and burst.
“...!”
“...!”
“...!”
The White Tower they'd bled to defend—destroyed?
Shock enough to shatter Torkel's gushing madness.
But belatedly, they saw: not destruction, evolution.
Kwakwakwakwa...!
Shards whirled into spirals, morphing wildly.
Some drakes slamming earth on landing.
Griffons soaring mightily.
Fairy dragons looping trails of pollen.
Lesser kin, sure—but legendary dragons flooding forth raised hackles sky-high.
Kukukuku!
Ground buckled as three Desert Worms erupted, boxing in the four units.
A Magara half-surfaced from cracked soil, swampifying the terrain—bogging down the swordsmen's footing.
“What the... hell's going on?”
Niel's mutter echoed every dragon's mind.
A dragon legion.
Unprecedented.
“Theo! You pulled it off, you devil!”
Julius alone beamed.
And,
Flap-flap!
Through the White Tower's drifting motes, Wyvern Umbra beat wings fiercely, emerging triumphant.
Astride it, Theo loomed imperious, surveying the land below.
An emperor incarnate.
* * *