Subjugation War (1)
The Herflin Alliance—a coalition forged from countless minor nations. It was one of the more peaceful countries around. And for good reason: they were a true alliance. In a continent teeming with great powers and mid-tier states, they'd banded together to protect their own rights. Their political system was a republic, and aside from Aidon, they were the only truly multi-species nation around. To prevent internal conflicts, their judicial system was highly advanced.
And as a rational nation like that, they'd declared neutrality in this "Red Dragon crisis."
"We don't know what the Red Dragon might do next."
"How could we ally with that embodiment of chaos? Aidon, maybe—but not them."
"Kohmir's already joined hands with it, from what I hear. What's our plan for dealing with Kohmir?"
"Sanctions, obviously! My kin were slaughtered by that Red Dragon!"
"I agree. What trade could we possibly continue with forces allied to the apocalyptic Red Dragon?"
...Well, calling them truly neutral was a bit of a stretch. They were blatantly siding with Aidon.
It made sense. Aidon might be scheming and underhanded, but it was a great power everyone acknowledged. Every policy, every declaration—even their slightest moves—affected a relatively weaker alliance like Herflin. No nation could ignore the money, power, and tangled interests tying them to Aidon.
It was a natural stance for them. Especially since...
"And don't we have His blessing?"
"Verinal and Selloir's priests have voiced strong support for us. The gods bless their decision."
Verinal, one of the major gods and deity of life and magic, was watching over them. Their choice wasn't just "rational." It was just, faithful—a perfect decision worthy of direct praise from gods who rarely spoke up in the material world. They took pride in their resolve and believed no issues would arise.
...Until they arrived.
"The Red Dragon commands punishment upon you."
'Hero' Einhardt. He'd driven out the apostles of an evil god lurking in the underworld, cleaved demonic minions in a single stroke, and elevated Aidon's national prestige—a worldwide hero.
And now he appeared before their walls, mounted on the back of a single White Gold Dragon.
"Wh-what are you doing here...?!"
"And what the hell is that dragon? In this day and age, getting chummy with a dragon—what were you thinking?!"
As far as they knew, Einhardt had retired into seclusion. Yet here he was with a White Gold Dragon. It made no sense.
They had no choice but to tense up. Especially because...
"...And what happened to you?"
"Those burn scars..."
His body was far from normal. Skin marred by severe burns, as if scorched by fire. Something catastrophic had clearly happened.
But soon, they faced an even bigger problem.
"...Kneel and beg forgiveness."
"Wh-what...?"
"What are you saying, Einhardt?"
Unknown words spilled from his mouth.
"Cease your neutrality and bow to the Red Dragon."
Words that pushed their wariness to the extreme—coming from Einhardt, of all people.
"Refuse, and you'll face a horrific price."
And they grasped its meaning immediately.
A declaration of war. A blatant one.
He—the once-hero Einhardt—stood before them as the Red Dragon's herald and knight.
He was no hero anymore. Just a pitiful wretch corrupted by the Red Dragon, reduced to its lackey.
That was Einhardt's reality now.
This is insane...!
Knowing the old him made this cruel truth impossible to accept.
But as absurd as it was, they couldn't stay silent.
They couldn't just let him be. If Einhardt was truly claiming to be the Red Dragon's herald, they—as Herflin's representatives—had to respond.
So Rodrigo, chairman of Herflin's Ten-Member Committee, called out plainly to Einhardt before the walls.
"An absurd demand."
It truly was. Show up out of nowhere and demand they kneel? It was basically ordering the Herflin Alliance to submit to the Red Dragon.
Herflin was a republic; all its lands belonged to the people. This was the land of freedom, which could never be ruled by a tyrant like the Red Dragon.
They had zero intention of bowing.
"If you want trade or dealings, bring a fair price."
Rodrigo was firm.
"Hero or not, you're now the Red Dragon's minion. As chairman—and representative of our alliance—I have no intention of blindly obeying you."
He spoke with colder precision than ever.
Watching such bold defiance from Rodrigo, the committee members felt chills—of admiration.
To stand so tall against the Red Dragon's forces... They wanted to applaud the chairman's courage.
But Einhardt didn't flinch at his words. He merely stroked the cheek of his dragon mount, half-listening at best.
Arrogance unfit for a diplomat or herald.
Outraged, Rodrigo pressed on, more provocatively.
"...Reliable sources say the Red Dragon can't act for some reason."
Verinal was a major god, and Herflin teemed with his followers. Rodrigo was a devout believer, donating heaps of gold weekly at Verinal's temple—close to the priests.
Being close to priests meant access to Verinal's oracles. And lately, Verinal—furious at the Red Dragon—had been spreading intel on it far and wide.
Rodrigo knew the Red Dragon's movements to a degree.
"Without the Red Dragon, do you really think just you two can take on the Herflin Alliance?"
Rodrigo appropriately intimidated Einhardt and his White Gold Dragon.
Those two were strong, sure. But not beyond Herflin's reach.
Herflin had dragon hunters active, too. And its military—honed for survival in a turbulent world—was no pushover.
Without the Red Dragon itself, they could handle a pair like this.
That's why Rodrigo spoke so confidently.
Einhardt, hearing that much...
"—Haha, right. You're a Verinal devotee too, Rodrigo."
...was angrier than even he expected.
"I just wanted to live quietly."
He recalled his recent self.
"Hide away in the forest with my dear wife."
"Why would someone like you seclude yourself? That's a loss to the nation—"
"—Always just talking about yourselves."
But they wouldn't leave him be. They pushed him forward, tried to use him.
Even...
"You hurt my wife. Verinal's followers. And those damn dragon hunters. They wounded her."
Meirina, who'd stood by him when his oath broke and his power faded.
They'd targeted and attacked her.
"...She's still in pain. Living with wounds that won't heal, even as a dragon."
His gaze shifted to Meirina's shoulder. The scar still lingered, searing into Einhardt's eyes.
"That scar—from Verinal's followers who targeted me."
Einhardt's reason shattered.
Like a volcano erupting, intense heat surged up his spine.
"That scar is a debt we must repay."
He could no longer contain the "heat."
These people... the Herflin Alliance... were the Red Dragon's assigned task.
He'd eradicate them, force submission, make them the Red Dragon's.
"We won't stop."
Light infused his new oath. Scorching, dizzying heat swirled around him.
"Wh-what are you—?!"
Shadows engulfed them.
Those who'd hidden in the clouds revealed themselves.
The sky filled with... white White Gold Dragons, surrounding Herflin.
"B-battle stations! Defensive formatio—"
Rodrigo sensed something wrong. One dragon? Manageable. But this scale? Overwhelming.
As he turned to command his comrades—
"—Ah."
—Roll.
His head cleanly severed, tumbling to the ground. The stump ignited red.
The new oath from the Red Dragon. The oath promising the Red Dragon's eternal presence.
It clung to his blade.
"All forces!! Punish them!!!"
Einhardt mounted Meirina, roaring. The White Gold Dragon carrying the Red Dragon's knight soared fiercer than ever.
Dragons breathed icy gales mercilessly. Walls crumbled before defenses could form.
Herflin's subjugation. A war solely for that purpose.
Thus, their war began.
Even as a coalition of minor states, the Herflin Alliance had hidden strength. That's why they'd survived as a nation for so long.
And perhaps because of that...
"They're defending better than expected."
Einhardt and the White Gold Dragons realized they were struggling more than anticipated.
Of course, the tide was overwhelmingly in their favor. White Gold Dragons were inherently elite aerial combatants. Einhardt's strategies—tailored to the terrain—were varied and efficient.
⊳ They're hunkered down in the leadership palace, making it harder to breach than thought. The holy barriers are annoying, but their hired mages are the real issue.
But Herflin had dug in for defense.
"We went for a quick pinpoint strike on the leadership... but it's dragging. My command error."
Their priests had pooled prayers from countless believers to erect barriers. A perfect "wildcard" that shouldn't have appeared.
And the Mage Tower mages they'd hired handled supplies with food creation spells.
Not an exaggeration to say Einhardt's group faced real obstacles.
Reinforcements... no. The Red Dragon entrusted us with this.
He had to find a breakthrough.
Calling for help bruised pride. Above all, the Red Dragon had trusted them with this mission.
Asking for aid now would betray that trust. Unacceptable.
⊳ Then... we'll squeeze them slowly to death.
"Seems we must. Even the best mage has limits."
So Einhardt concluded.
Herflin was like a bird with a coal necklace—doomed.
Their goal: stall until outside aid arrived.
But other nations hesitated to help against the "Red Dragon."
Time favored Einhardt. Tightening the noose would secure victory.
...Still, it'll drag more than hoped.
He was disappointed inwardly. He'd expected a swifter conquest.
But coordination lagged, and Herflin's desperate defense forced acceptance.
"...Alright, back to it."
Einhardt gripped his sword again. Obstacles or not, he had to lead—as the Red Dragon's knight. Burning with resolve, he rose.
As he moved to leave camp...
⊳ What a nuisance.
"...!"
His voice. The Red Dragon's Dragon Tongue echoed in his ear.
—Whoosh…!
A colossal shadow blanketed Einhardt.
Not just him—the camp, the city.
Einhardt knew its owner.
The Red Dragon addressed the Herflin Alliance.
Dooming their defeat.
Simultaneously, the Red Dragon latched onto the barrier, sinking powerful fangs in.
—Crack…!
A fissure spiderwebbed across it.
Then the Red Dragon soared skyward again—like a cat handing a live mouse to its kittens. Passing the kill to them.
"All forces, prepare!!"
[Move! Advance, everyone!!]
They grasped the intent. The Red Dragon willed their annihilation.
They charged fiercer than ever toward Herflin.
A week later...
Herflin had no choice but to raise the white flag.