Chapter 345: The Fall of the Northlands
"Oh, gods..."
Viscount Ludon murmured once again, his face illuminated.
Beams of sunlight pierced through the gaps in the clouds, weak and gentle at first, then gradually growing stronger and more radiant until the golden light bathed the land.
The clouds in the sky were dyed gold, then dissipated gradually with the wind.
On the ground, a priestess raised her staff high.
[Holy Solar Incineration]
This divine spell, once used by the Fadlan Empire to display grand miracles during rituals, was now in service of a red dragon.
As this magnificent sight unfolded, the mournful ballads echoing on the battlefield slowly ceased. Nobles of the Northlands, allied soldiers, and even the people of Ember Nest raised their heads, staring intently at the sky.
"Roar—"
A long roar echoed again, the near-tangible dragon's might spreading wide.
In an instant, the wasteland fell into silence.
A massive red dragon, over thirty meters in length, hovered in the sky, its wings stirring powerful gales. Its metallic red scales gleamed brilliantly in the sunlight.
Each beat of its wings distorted the surrounding air with heat, and even the sky seemed to bow to its presence.
Ludon gazed at the scene in the sky, raising a hand to shield his eyes—whether from the dazzling light or the unviewable majesty above.
His lips trembled, and his body shuddered.
"Again... it's like this."
"No... it's different."
"It's become stronger, far more terrifying than I remember."
Viscount Ludon shook his head lightly, his brows furrowed, muttering softly.
As a survivor of the Trill Massacre, the scenes of that day had haunted Ludon's mind countless times, becoming a nightmare he could never shake off.
And now, a new nightmare was about to be born.
"Oh, gods..."
"Will he... will he kill us all?"
"I don't know."
"Wait... just wait."
The remaining nobles and soldiers of the Northlands stood frozen in place. Even as spears and swords slipped from their hands, none bent to retrieve them—there was simply no need.
Even with tens of thousands of troops, with their fine weapons and abundant supplies, it was all useless before this red dragon.
Resistance was meaningless.
Who could wield a sword against a natural disaster?
As people stared at the sky, a single thought rose in their hearts.
Cassius hovered in the air, gazing down at the trembling people below, his pale golden eyes flickering with a faint light.
His voice was not loud, yet it carried across the wasteland, clear to everyone on the battlefield.
"The Northlands have fallen."
"Ember shall endure."
His tone held little emotion, sounding more like a cold declaration.
This was the obituary for the Northlands' demise and the proclamation of the new order of the Ember Kingdom.
"No..."
"Why... why did it come to this?"
With a thud, Viscount Ludon dropped to his knees, lowering his head in despair. He let out an uncontrollable wail, his tears soaking into the dirt below.
Yet even now, he couldn't believe this nightmare was real.
Ludon Seig was born in Stravsburg, inheriting his fief through familial connections. He had a passion for studying the history of the Northlands, often engaging with scholars from various regions, living a life deeply entrenched in the high society of Northland nobility.
Ten years—a mere decade.
In just that time, the red dragon from the north had risen miraculously, establishing a terrifying kingdom.
Under the Ember Kingdom's onslaught, the nation he grew up in had fallen, and the noble system that sustained him was crumbling.
"It's over..."
"The Northlands are gone! The Northlands are gone!"
"Oh, gods... is this our punishment?"
"The end... this is the end!"
Among the allied forces, many Northland nobles wore similar expressions, collapsing to the ground, their faces pale, or completely lost in disbelief. Some even descended into madness, laughing and crying uncontrollably.
For a moment, the allied camp echoed with cries and wails.
They knew it was all over.
The old order was about to be overturned.
All that was outdated and rotten would be utterly destroyed—including themselves, the Northland nobles who had ruled Anzeta for nearly a millennium.
On the Ember Kingdom's side, waves of cheers erupted. They were like ignited powder kegs, surging with a fervent heat.
Goblins, ogres, and tieflings alike raised their weapons, cheering. The wyverns roared proudly, and the blue and white dragons let out ecstatic howls.
"Ember shall endure!"
"Roar—"
"Unbeatable in battle!"
"For the Ember Kingdom!"
"For His Majesty Cassius! Your Majesty!"
Even the players, swept up in the fervent atmosphere, began howling, though their exclamations were somewhat bizarre.
"Die, kingdom scum!"
"For faction points and gold coins!"
"Lord Cassius is so handsome—I want to hug that tail!"
Amidst the excited players, Mantou led his bipedal wyvern, his face mournful as he lamented, "I haven't farmed enough contribution points yet! Why's it already over?"
At Marshal Dolo's command, the Ember Kingdom's army resumed its advance, marching in neat formation toward the allied lines.
The river trembled, and the earth quaked.
But this time, there was no resistance.
The allied forces had completely lost the will to fight, silently awaiting the Ember Kingdom army's approach, a deathly despair enveloping their ranks.
As the kingdom's army reached the allied frontlines, a Northland noble, driven mad by the crushing pressure, charged alone at the Ember Kingdom troops.
He shouted, "You monsters! I am of noble blood—"
But a volley of gunfire cut him down, leaving his corpse riddled with bullet holes.
The red dragon still hovered in the sky, indifferent to the minor commotion below. Its massive wings cast a vast shadow over the wasteland, its vertical pupils reflecting the battlefield's broken, scarred expanse.
"It's finally over."
"The Anzeta Wasteland is mine."
Cassius thought to himself.
A golden trophy glimmered in his mind.
[Nation Destroyer]
"It was a war of despair. The legendary 'Silver Wings' fell to the ground, the heroes from Fadlan perished, and the fearless Leo Bosk vanished without a trace."
"Even the light of Mount Celestia could not halt his wrath—thus ended the Northland Kingdom, which had ruled Anzeta for nearly a millennium. The Northlanders fell under the rule of the dragon, becoming slaves to his ambition."
——"The Secret History of Anzeta: The Fall of the Northlands" by Duke Ludon
"A prosperous era is upon us. This is yet another significant milestone in the empire's grand blueprint. His invincible Majesty has achieved another glorious victory."
——"Imperial Archives: Official History of the Northern United Kingdom" by Citizen Ludon Seig