Translator: AnubisTL
On the gently swaying deck, the captain cleared his throat and spoke. "The change is truly remarkable... it's as if it happened overnight! Those notorious monsters and alien races of the Frontierlands, their behavior has become... well, how should I put it? Quite polite."
"For the first time in history, different races have begun to cooperate."
"They've actively initiated trade with our merchant caravans traveling along the Estonian Great River, exchanging local minerals and furs for grain and daily necessities."
"Many people are baffled, simply assuming the monsters have suddenly seen the light, or that the sun has risen from the west."
The captain glanced warily left and right, confirming no other crew members were too close, before lowering his voice to a mysterious whisper. "But I've just heard some inside information from a few old comrades who have traveled far and wide..."
He leaned in closer, his voice dropping even lower. "They say that this chaotic land, nestled between the edge of the Sierre Wilderness and the Permafrost Tundra, has finally given birth to a... single, true 'King of the Frontierlands' after countless years of bloody conflict."
"It was this mysterious King who brought unprecedented order to these lawless lands! He established the rules and used an iron fist to restrain the monstrous claws and fangs that once ran wild."
"Few have seen his true face, but his fame and influence are everywhere. You can even see that even the most cunning and greedy goblins, who used to extort and blackmail, now dare not ask traveling merchants for a single extra copper coin."
"It can be said that today, all intelligent creatures in the Frontierlands, regardless of strength or weakness, live under the vast shadow of this 'King' and follow the rules he has set."
"Oh? That impressive?"
Alberto raised an eyebrow, a playful expression on his face. He clicked his tongue in admiration and said, "Then what is the story of this 'King of the Frontierlands' you speak of? Is he a once-in-a-millennium hero among the goblins? A powerful human? Or... did the Ironhoof of those Centaur Tribes trample the Frontierlands?"
The captain shook his head vigorously, his expression becoming exceptionally serious and earnest.
"None of the above. There are countless rumors and heavy fog surrounding the specific identity of that 'King,' but the most widely circulated and accepted version is..."
He took a deep breath and enunciated each word. "The one who rules this perilous land is no mortal race. It is a noble, benevolent, and unimaginably powerful... metallic dragon. And not just any metallic dragon, but the most noble and powerful of all... a gold dragon."
After a second of silence.
"Pfft... Hahaha! A... a gold dragon?!"
Upon hearing this answer, Alberto reacted as if he'd just heard the funniest joke in the world. He couldn't hold it back any longer and erupted into a hearty laugh.
As he laughed, the captain standing beside him suddenly stiffened. An indescribable, soul-deep chill swept through his entire body without warning.
But the sensation vanished as quickly as it had arrived. In a mere moment of disorientation, the suffocating dread receded like a tide.
It was as if everything had been a mere illusion born of his own excessive tension.
'That was close... I almost lost it. My transformation magic even flickered...'
Alberto's smile faded, and his handsome face returned to its usual sunny calm. Only in the depths of his eyes did a fleeting, imperceptible glint of absurd and cold mockery flash by.
"The King of the Frontierlands is a gold dragon... Where exactly did you hear such an interesting rumor?"
Alberto narrowed his eyes imperceptibly, his face still wearing a polite smile as he asked the captain in a calm tone.
"Oh, just from chatting with other captains and crew members," the captain replied matter-of-factly, as if the idea were completely natural.
"Many people discuss it privately. Think about it: the ability to restrain those lawless, vicious monsters in the Frontierlands and make creatures of different races cooperate and trade in an orderly manner—those two points alone are enough to prove it."
He gestured in the air with his rough fingers. "First of all, this King of the Frontierlands definitely isn't an evil dragon, right? Evil dragons don't have the patience or goodwill to maintain order."
"Secondly..."
The captain lowered his voice, his tone conspiratorial. "I've heard a theory."
"Most metallic dragons prefer to maintain the existing order rather than go through the trouble of 'creating' a brand new set of rules. Only the noblest, most responsible gold dragons would tirelessly devote their heart and soul to building an orderly system from scratch."
The smile on Alberto's face remained bright, but a flicker of something undetectable crossed his eyes as he fell into a brief silence.
"Not an evil dragon? Then why is it that I haven't even truly set foot in the Frontierlands, yet I can already smell the thick stench of evil drifting on the wind?"
"And besides... only gold dragons are willing to tirelessly create order?"
"What a... naive assumption."
"Have you ever been a gold dragon? Do you know what we truly think? Besides me... I've never heard of any of my gold dragon kin who would enjoy the troublesome task of creating order."
A faint golden light shimmered deep within the adventurer's pupils.
The surface of Alberto's mind remained calm and undisturbed, but beneath it, a storm of cold, sharp thoughts raged.
Without a doubt, the "adventurer" persona was merely a carefully constructed disguise. His true identity was a dragon—and not just any dragon, but the most noble of all metallic dragons: a Gold Dragon.
It was true that gold dragons were born with a natural reverence for order and justice.
However, the vast majority of adult gold dragons had long since formed deeply ingrained behavioral codes and patterns of thought. They generally believed that:
Just acts must be carefully considered, with all potential consequences weighed to ensure that the "cure" would not cause more harm than the "disease" itself.
The injustices of the world were countless, and no single being could personally correct every wrong. Rather than intervening in every matter and overstepping their bounds, it was better to encourage intelligent creatures to rely on their own strength to solve problems within their power.
Only "tribulations" that were truly immense and complex—those that could only be addressed by the power and wisdom of a gold dragon—were worth their full effort.
But compared to his gold dragon kin, Alberto Aurelius was an anomaly.
From the moment he emerged as a hatchling, his parents had regarded him as an irredeemably stubborn "maverick."
He possessed a sense of autonomy far stronger than any of his peers, coupled with a nearly fanatical conviction:
Justice and Order were not gifts to be passively awaited from the heavens. They were ultimate goals that had to be "created" and "shaped" by hand, through absolute power and supreme wisdom.
Other races, and even the vast majority of dragonkind, lacked his noble bloodline and his wisdom to perceive the true nature of things. Rather than allowing them to flounder in ignorant chaos, it was better to place them under his careful control within a perfectly designed framework of Order, preventing them from committing irreparable folly.
Driven by this conviction, he harbored a grand and radical ultimate dream: to unify all the fragmented nations, races, and factions across the continent and even the multiverse into a single, supreme centralized polity through ruthless conquest and absolute rule. By doing so, he would utterly eradicate the soil from which "evil" could sprout and establish an eternal, perfect golden order.
Now, the timing, the location, and the circumstances all seemed to align in his favor.
The powerful adult metallic dragons had almost all been urgently summoned back to their respective Dragon Realms to deal with some higher-level crisis, leaving them no time to pay attention to a "rebellious" young dragon like him. In the south, the seeds of internal strife had already taken root within the Lothurn Federation of human nations; a storm was brewing.
The perfect opportunity to punish evil and embark on his great journey of conquest was now right before his eyes.
After meticulous intelligence gathering and strategic simulations, Alberto, a young gold dragon, locked onto his first strategic objective—the Frontierlands, a critical choke point guarding the Estonian Great River, situated between the Sierre Wilderness and the Permafrost Tundra.
The terrain here was complex, serving as a bridge between the wilderness and civilization. More importantly, it could act as an ideal lever and forward base to influence the entire continent's geopolitical landscape.
However... plans never survive first contact.
He had never expected that this pristine land, which he had so carefully selected, had already been claimed by a mysterious "King." More absurdly, rumors suggested this "King" was... another gold dragon of his own kind.
"Interesting..."
(I'll see for myself what kind of 'kin' this is, and how they managed to conquer this chaotic frontier before I could.)
A surge of curiosity and competitiveness churned within Alberto, yet he maintained the harmless, friendly facade of an adventurer. He continued his casual conversation with the captain about local customs and trade goods, his true intentions hidden.
Time flowed steadily, like the Estonian Great River beneath his feet.
The merchant ship sailed smoothly, and the landscape on either side gradually shifted. artificial structures became more frequent, and the air grew thick with a scent that mixed sulfur, metal, and the overpowering aura of a dragon.
The Frontierlands were now within reach.
(End of the Chapter)
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