Subjugation War (2)
The Herflin Alliance was never a weak nation. If they had been feeble, the greedy surrounding countries wouldn't have left them alone. They would have eyed them covetously, plotting to carve out whatever profits they could, calculators clicking away. But they hadn't, which meant the Alliance had real substance. That was the Herflin Alliance.
And yet, they had fallen. Defeated by the Red Dragon, crushed by his nation.
King Chitriini III of Aidon felt his soul drain from his body as he read the headline.
Fine, he could concede Kohmir Duchy a hundred times over. They were a nation with their own strength, but their proximity to Hyahir Mountain—the Red Dragon's lair—made them inherently vulnerable. Just the dragon's existence was a constant threat. Plus, as a single-race dwarf nation, they had always been prime targets for predators. So, it made sense they'd crave the overwhelming protection of the Red Dragon.
But the Herflin Alliance was different.
...They were neutral.
They might have quietly sympathized with Aidon, but they'd never stepped forward. They hadn't directly opposed the Red Dragon in any way.
Yet they had fallen anyway. Verinal's temples in the Alliance were all shattered. Their leaders' heads had been severed. And not even by the Red Dragon himself, but by the White Gold Dragons now under his command. The entire place had been turned to ruins.
How?
Dragons were arrogant and authoritarian by nature, preferring to act alone. How had the Red Dragon unified them? How had he made them his limbs?
Chitriini III couldn't comprehend any of it.
But one truth was crystal clear.
They... the Herflin Alliance is now subjugated to the Red Dragon's nation.
Crushed beneath his heel without even raising a single banner of resistance.
"...Ha."
He shuddered. Terror gnawed at his mind.
Chitriini III wasn't a brilliant monarch, but he wasn't a fool either. That's why he could see exactly what the Red Dragon was after.
The dragon had valued Kohmir's worth and recruited them. He'd intimidated the neutrals to completely exclude their interference.
And all of it was aimed at Aidon. Without room for any alliance.
Solely to dismantle and devour this kingdom, baring his sharp fangs.
That was the Red Dragon's goal. He was tightening the noose around Aidon—around Chitriini III.
This can't happen. Not like this.
He was afraid. Afraid of the Red Dragon's breath, his claws, his teeth. Afraid of the ruin, the calamity he would bring.
This nation needed hope. Hope to save it from the despair of the "Apocalypse Red Dragon."
So Chitriini III turned his gaze aside. To the only one who could stop that "calamity."
The one blessed by Verinal, one of the chief gods. The one who could stand against the Red Dragon.
Verinal's priest, Kellian.
He locked his eyes on him.
Unlike the trembling Chitriini III, Kellian wore a faint smile. It wasn't the grin of someone fearing death—it was laced with fighting spirit and reverence.
Watching him eased Chitriini III's terror naturally. Because he knew Verinal had blessed him. Because the god of surging life and mighty magic would protect him. Because only he could handle the Red Dragon.
"...I'm afraid."
So he confessed his heart honestly.
Kellian understood Chitriini III's feelings perfectly. Unlike the wavering king, he must show no flicker of doubt. That way, people would see him as hope. They would follow him as humanity's guardian of peace.
So Kellian slowly opened his mouth. To reassure this mortal, one of his fellow believer in that one.
"A tragic calamity has befallen the Herflin Alliance. I offer my condolences."
Yet even as he expressed condolences, his smile didn't fade.
Of course not.
"But the 'condition' has been met."
It was an unavoidable "small sacrifice." For that one's grand design, such "sacrifices" were inevitable.
His followers, his temples. They had to be destroyed and desecrated for the grand design to complete.
A shock massive enough to shake his faith... enough to send countless believers' convictions soaring to the heights.
That's what Kellian... what Verinal needed.
"Wh-what do you mean?"
Unfortunately, Chitriini III couldn't grasp his words.
Conditions met? The Alliance's fall was unavoidable?
Every piece of information ringing in his ears was incomprehensible.
"The Red Dragon has toppled Verinal's 'sanctuaries.'"
So he explained kindly to Chitriini. After all, the king was his partner and patron. He needed to know some of the plan, that one's plan.
"And mercilessly slaughtered Verinal's creations."
"... ."
"But that alone isn't enough. Countless followers might harbor hatred for the Red Dragon, but not enough to overcome their fear of him."
In that moment, Kellian's expression shifted. The smile he'd held crumbled, dyed in rage and hatred.
"But not anymore. He invaded a neutral nation, smashed their homes. And toppled every one of Verinal's temples."
Kellian rose from his seat as he spoke. And in his hand, he gathered "divinity."
The divinity Verinal had bestowed upon him. It began to emit a fierce glow.
"Countless followers died right there. This will unite them."
Chitriini III saw much in his hand. The prayers of the followers. Their wishes. The aspirations of countless Verinal devotees shimmered there.
"Do you see? All this will go to Verinal. Fierce faith yearning to crush the Red Dragon. Now, the Red Dragon is an 'enemy of faith' that Verinal cannot ignore."
Only then did Chitriini III think he understood what Kellian was after.
"...'Descent.' That's what you were aiming for."
"Haha, exactly. All conditions for that one to descend into this material world have been fulfilled."
Chitriini III felt terror toward the man before him—and toward Verinal aiding him.
A god... one who saw the big picture treated the Herflin Alliance as "mere." No mortal could witness that without dread.
But Kellian was different from Chitriini III. He was enraptured by the ecstasy of drawing closer to his god, calmly explaining the grand design.
"Moreover, the Red Dragon eyes the domain of calamity. Selloir won't take kindly to that either."
Verinal wanted to punish the Red Dragon personally. To descend as an avatar into Kellian's body and burst the dragon's heart.
And the conditions for that "descent" had all been met by the Red Dragon himself.
The grand design to execute the "Apocalypse Red Dragon." It was finally complete.
"So now, we wait for the time."
Kellian gazed out the window as he spoke. Toward Hyahir Mountain. Where the Red Dragon slumbered idly.
He stared at it.
"When he sticks his head here. Verinal, Selloir—they will appear to protect this place."
Thus, he waited. For the "Apocalypse Red Dragon" to come.
For calamity to strike them.
Reminding himself that moment would be the dragon's end.
He set the trap.
*
From the sky, the Herflin Alliance looked almost artistic. When I destroyed something, usually only ashes remained. But the White Gold Dragons' breath was different from mine. The freezing chill halted the Alliance in time. People and buildings alike were trapped in cold ice.
It was definitely a far cry from the scenes I'd seen before.
Especially...
...They're competent.
They'd moved efficiently. Ignoring those without combat prowess, they struck high-priority targets first. Temples with priests, dragon hunter bases. Guild halls with mercenaries, palaces of the powerful.
They neutralized the leadership first. Then flew to the center and seized the government.
Of course, I'd damaged their barriers. But that was minimal support. The bare minimum within my limits to avoid gaining divinity.
So this was possible because Einhardt commanded the battlefield.
No wasted moves. And they're used to being led.
I was genuinely impressed.
Dragons are inherently arrogant and headstrong. But he'd perfectly commanded them by leveraging his marriage to Meirina and his status as my knight.
If the White Gold Dragons had come alone without Einhardt? In the worst case, they might have been picked off one by one.
That's why I rated Einhardt highly.
Imprinting the battlefield in my mind, grasping the situation, I entered the Alliance's walls.
"Ah, Your Majesty. You've arrived."
Einhardt appeared before me, kneeling properly.
"Here, the heads of the enemy leaders."
He handed me a sack of severed heads from the leadership, showing his results, then looked up at me.
His eyes held no hesitation. But a certain conviction dwelled there. His personal creed: spare the innocent as much as possible.
That's why he'd fought so "efficiently."
[You seem to have left the civilians untouched.]
"Yes, that's right."
[Why?]
"I swore an oath. To trample only those who block my path. But they aren't enemies. They're just... victims who served the wrong leaders. So I didn't touch those who didn't resist."
I liked his answer immensely.
Not stirring up unnecessary trouble is a true virtue of intelligent beings.
So I approached him closely and praised him sincerely.
[Well done, Einhardt.]
I said, surveying the surroundings. Then I breathed on those shivering in the cold.
—Whoosh...!
But not to kill them. The guilty were already handled by Einhardt.
Now, what remained were those who would "repay" this sin.
I needed them, so I spared them.
Thus, like at Yggdrasil, I let my voice boom for all to hear.
[Hear me, survivors.]
I don't like those who bother me. That's why I hated Aidon, and Verinal.
So I didn't like these people either. Opportunists quietly siding with Aidon.
Even showing them mercy by not stepping in personally—wasn't that enough?
[I give you two choices.]
Fortunately for them, I'm generous.
[Will you die alone in the cold, or devote yourselves to me eternally?]
I won't just let them die.
For the comfort of my own, for my peace.
I grant them the "chance" to atone.
[If you wish to 'devote' yourselves, raise your torches high.]
A chance not to die here.
[The White Gold Dragons won't harm you in any way.]
A chance to survive.
[Those who don't—they will punish. Just as they did to this place's leaders, stopping their breath. Freezing them in the icy cold.]
A perfect "chance" for opportunists.
[Choose.]
I didn't particularly want their submission.
But they must pay for troubling me.
Their petty deaths wouldn't suffice.
That's all I wanted.
[When that fire dies. When my breath fades. That will be... your end.]
I said, ascending back to the sky.
I'd praised Einhardt enough, achieved my purpose here.
Executing the choice was for the White Gold Dragons and Einhardt anyway.
Now, it was time for rest again.
Making things run without me stepping in. It's coming together nicely.
Satisfied, I returned to my lair.
Thus, the end of the Herflin Alliance approached.
Of course, I had little interest in them.
I'd just let the White Gold Dragons handle it.