Chapter 607: The Dragon

Dragons are a highly powerful and intelligent species.

Before the Old Ones arrived in this world, dragons were the ruling species. They were the masters of everything, and the entire continent was filled with their lairs. These powerful creatures constantly fought in the skies, vying for territory.

However, everything changed with the arrival of the Old Ones.

No matter how strong dragons were, they could not match the creative power of the Old Ones and the mountain-moving and sea-filling abilities of the Slaan. Under the suppression of the Old Ones, the number of dragons began to dwindle. More importantly, as the Old Ones altered planetary orbits, the climate changed, making the environment less suitable for dragons. The surviving dragons sought secluded places to hide, and the age of dragons gradually passed. Many were hunted by adventurous humans or dwarves, while most of the remaining dragons hid in remote mountains, spending their days in slumber.

Even so, some warriors strong enough could still ride dragons into battle. Dragons possessed the power to crush armies, burn fleets and cities, and were formidable creatures. Who would want to face a giant flying fire-breathing monster?

Now, only a few dragons remain in the world. Besides those sleeping in the lairs of the Dark Elves in Naggaroth, the High Elves in Caledor, and the Wood Elves in Athel Loren, most dragons have either been killed or have retreated into the mountains.

"In the volcanoes of the High Elves' kingdom of Caledor, many dragons lie dormant," the Lady of the Lake, controlling Sulia's body, held Ryan's hand as they sat in the expansive gardens of the Imperial Palace, addressing the group. "In ancient times, the Dragon Knights of the Elven Empire once numbered over twenty thousand, all riding dragons. These dragons waged an endless war against the Chaos hordes."

"Over twenty thousand..." Emperor Karl-Franz felt a sudden sense of helplessness.

He knew the power of dragons and the story of the first Phoenix King, Aenarion the Defender.

Even with over twenty thousand Dragon Knights, they couldn't defeat Chaos. Ultimately, it took Caledor the Dragontamer's Great Vortex plan to barely drive away the forces of Chaos.

Ignoring the Emperor's words, the Lady of the Lake continued the story of dragons.

Due to climate changes, dragons' active periods grew shorter. Moreover, after the War of the Beard, the last Dragonrider family line ended. The once-invincible Dragon Knight corps of the High Elves became history, leaving the Dragon Princes to fight on purebred elven steeds.

As time passed, the Caledor volcanoes gradually cooled, sapping the dragons' vitality, leading to their deep slumber and making it increasingly difficult for them to awaken. With fewer true Dragon Knights, Caledor's once high political and military status within the High Elves' war council declined. No Dragon Prince from Caledor has been chosen as Phoenix King in recent times. Now, the Caledor court is almost silent, devoid of dragon roars, only echoing with the hollow footsteps of Dragon Princes.

After the Lady of the Lake finished her tale, Ryan seemed unaffected, but both Emperor Karl-Franz and Amelia were deep in thought, reflecting on more than just the High Elves' transition from glory to decline. The Old World could no longer rely solely on the High Elves, as that would be too naive.

"So, Lady Sulia, why do you refer to that dragon as a Silvermoon Dragon?" The Emperor, thinking that Ryan's wife knew an unusual amount, seized the opportunity to ask his burning question: "Are there distinctions among dragons beyond their color and species?"

"Dragons are creatures that grow stronger simply by sleeping," the Lady of the Lake explained, holding Ryan's hand to indicate she wasn't finished. "Dragons are broadly classified into three types based on age: Sun Dragons, Moon Dragons, and Star Dragons."

Dragons grow larger and gain better defense and strength as they age.

Sun Dragons are the youngest, most vibrant, and energetic.

Moon Dragons are older, possessing greater strength and more combat experience.

Star Dragons are the oldest and most powerful, capable of devastating entire armies, razing towns and fields, and consuming livestock. When a Star Dragon is provoked into a rampage, few creatures or heroes can defeat it in a fair fight, including Chaos Daemons.

However, there are very few Star Dragons left. Most of them are obsessed with guarding their hoards, often sleeping in the Caledor volcanoes.

As dragons age, they indeed grow stronger and more invincible, but some aspects decline. With age, dragons' speed diminishes slightly, and they become less active. Sun Dragons are the most active, while Star Dragons spend most of their time sleeping. Sometimes, even if a Dragon Prince sings dragon songs for five or six days without food or drink to awaken this ultimate weapon, the Star Dragon might just roll over, crushing the Dragon Prince, yawn, and go back to sleep.

Therefore, finding better ways to utilize the time a Star Dragon is awake and fully leveraging its terrifying power is often a focus of Dragon Princes' studies.

"I see..." The Emperor nodded slowly after listening to the Lady of the Lake's lengthy explanation. He immediately ordered his subordinates to record everything. "Write it all down!"

"Yes, sir!"

———— I'm the line that records everything ————

Meanwhile, in the Imperial Capital, Altdorf, at the Royal Hotel.

Ryan and the others were out, leaving Olica and Sylvia to watch the children. Little Frederick and little Devonshire played together, with the rabbit named Amiya hopping around on the floor.

"Look at my fortress, it's unbreakable!" Little Frederick proudly built a fortress out of blocks, "No attack can break my fortress!"

"Attack, attack!" Little Devonshire, crawling on the floor, held a toy lance, clutched under his arm, and with a thrust, he knocked down the blocks. "Attack! Destroy it!"

"Boom!" The "castle" that Little Frederick had painstakingly built collapsed. The boy's face turned red with anger, and he looked like he was about to cry. He waved his hand, sending a cup of hot milk flying towards Little Devonshire's face!

"Oh no!" Sylvia turned pale with fright. The head maid hadn't expected Little Frederick to react this way. The scalding hot milk flew towards Little Devonshire, and Sylvia leapt to intercept it.

To everyone's surprise, Little Devonshire seemed to realize the danger. A sudden burst of psychic energy glowed in his eyes as he extended his hand, creating a psychic shield that blocked the milk just before it reached Sylvia. The milk splattered on the shield and spilled onto the carpet as the shield shattered. Sylvia fell to the ground, all of this happening in an instant.

Only the dark elf maid stood in the distance, observing silently, a faint purple aura of dark magic emanating from her hand. A circular array with many dark magic symbols had formed in her palm. Seeing the infant manifest psychic power, Olica lowered her hand with a hint of regret. "Such naughty children, both of them. In our culture, we'd give such troublemakers a good discipline."

"Are you alright, Miss Sylvia?" Olica asked, striding over on her long legs encased in black silk beneath her maid's skirt. She extended a hand to help Sylvia up. "Any injuries?"

"No," Sylvia shuddered at Olica's approach, recalling some terrifying memories. She quickly added, "It's just that the carpet is dirty now."

"That's nothing, just have someone replace it." Olica smiled meaningfully, signaling Sylvia to call for assistance.

Sylvia knew Olica disliked interacting with lesser humans. If it involved Ryan, she would tolerate it, but otherwise, Olica rarely uttered a word of human language.

The head maid soon called a servant to change the carpet.

The hotel servant, dressed in a tight black uniform with a round cap and clean white shoes, carried a faint scent of perfume. He entered, collected the carpet, and asked politely before leaving, "Are there any clothes that need laundering?"

"No, thank you," Sylvia shook her head, indicating he could leave.

The servant nodded and exited the room with the carpet.

Olica's amber eyes followed the servant out the door, silent.

"No fighting! No fighting!" Sylvia admonished Ryan's children sternly. "You mustn't behave like this, or I'll have to tell your parents!"

"Please don't, Aunt Sylvia!" Little Frederick immediately apologized, fearing his father would be displeased with him.

"No, Auntie, please don't!" Little Devonshire, more afraid of his mother than Ryan, quickly pleaded. Sulia was always very strict with her son, often to the point where even Ryan's words had little effect. The Lady of the Lake also couldn't sway Sulia's resolve in this matter.

Sylvia was about to continue scolding them when she heard Olica's voice. The dark elf clapped her hands. "Anyone outside?"

"Yes, Lady Olica!" A few old guards and Nuln Ironclad soldiers entered, standing at attention. "What are your orders?"

"The master should be back soon. In the meantime, don't let any hotel staff enter the room!" Olica instructed in Low Gothic. "If anything is delivered, take it outside, inspect it, and then bring it inside!"

"Understood!" The soldiers nodded, acknowledging the command.

"Olica, what are you planning?" Sylvia was confused. She watched as Olica transformed her maid's outfit into a more practical black leather suit and purple robe, covering her face with a mask and hood. Before Sylvia could respond, Olica vanished, becoming a shadowy blur.

Thirty minutes later, in a noble mansion in Altdorf's wealthy district.

The dimly lit

 interior remained shrouded in darkness, with no lights.

A twisted voice spoke.

"Target confirmed, in the penthouse suite of the Royal Hotel."

"Good, we can begin the operation."

"The operation code name is—Masquerade Ball."

"Praise Slaanesh! Praise the Prince of Pleasure!"

"Praise Slaanesh!"

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