Chapter 507: Repercussions

Dragonspire City, the royal palace of the Kingdom of Trisia.

Since the death of Teymurrel, blood had been spilled within this palace, and a period of chaos had followed.

Yet after Tyro balanced the powers and secured his throne, the palace once again regained its former grandeur and solemnity.

On the surface, little seemed changed—but beneath, everything had shifted.

The nation of Trisia appeared to be ruled solely by King Tyro, but in truth, two others stood beside him as rulers: Selandir and Flamewing, founders of the Sacred Storm Order.

Indeed, it was their efforts that had placed Tyro upon the throne.

Now, a heavy gloom hung over the palace.

Flamewing, towering like a mountain, and Selandir, radiant and beautiful, wore grim expressions after hearing Tyro’s report.

Aruba, Catherine, and Viner—agents they had painstakingly cultivated—had been lost. They had poured true essence into them, not merely training, but *soul-forging*.

"Norin is truly our greatest threat!"

Flamewing growled.

They had intended to trap Norin and the dragon in an ambush, using the entrapment formation to crush them. Instead, their entire force had perished on the battlefield—not one escaped.

Selandir analyzed coldly, "The entrapment array led by Aruba and Catherine could ensnare even a Solar Knight. This means Norin must have reached late-stage Solar power—perhaps even stepped halfway into the Legendary realm."

"Legendary?"

Tyro sighed inwardly. For decades, the two nations had warred, yet neither had possessed a Legendary warrior—if one side had, they would long ago have conquered all of Orlandt Continent.

But now, he had Flamewing, a mighty knight, who had pledged to raise him as ruler of this land.

Even if Norin grew stronger, Tyro still had confidence.

"Fortunately, we did not go to the front ourselves. Otherwise, we might have died there too."

They exchanged glances, a rare flicker of vulnerability passing between them.

"Flamewing," Selandir said, "only a Legendary being may now stand a chance against Norin."

She continued, "You must stop using your lifeblood to imprint disciples."

The transformation of Flame and Storm Envoys carried high failure rates—barely one in ten survived.

But for exceptional candidates, Flamewing could condense his very essence to activate the Flame Sigil, ensuring absolute success.

The cost? A rapid decline in his own strength.

Of late, in his haste to expand their forces, Flamewing had done this often—his power now reduced to early Solar level.

Once, they believed no one could threaten him. But now, with Norin's sudden rise, caution was essential.

To restore himself to full strength through rest alone—without external aid—would take two or three years.

Thankfully, this weakness was known to none. Norin would never dare challenge him directly.

"I’ve already decided to stop," Flamewing said. Then, a thought stirred. "But if we can recruit *him*, he will be the last one I pour my essence into."

Selandir nodded slightly. "Garrett is indeed a promising candidate. With the Flame Seal, his abilities would surge instantly."

"What I value most is his position—he can stir the tides of Auduin Kingdom, buying us more time."

Time—that was what they lacked most, especially while Flamewing recovered.

"Your Majesty," Selandir turned to Tyro seated upon the throne, "this task suits you best."

In a way, Tyro and Garrett were alike—except the latter bore far greater talent.

Hearing her words, Tyro’s brow darkened with complex emotion.

Though these two held no interest in kingship, preferring to build their "Holy Court," he wondered whether bringing in Garrett might endanger his own standing.

Still, he admitted—under current circumstances, recruiting Garrett was a wise move.

"Fear not," he said. "I’ve already begun arrangements. Though, if Lady Selandir could offer some support, progress might be swifter."

"Oh?"

Selandir raised an eyebrow. "What plan do you have? Speak."

A mysterious smile played on Tyro’s lips as he revealed his scheme—earning a slow nod from Selandir.

"Very well. Proceed with the contact."

The three then discussed border warfare, finding rare agreement.

They would first send envoys to Auduin Kingdom requesting a truce, while simultaneously gathering armies in border cities. If the enemy advanced, they would resist step by step, slowing their advance.

Every decision aimed at one goal: buying time.

As outsiders from the Crescent Continent, Flamewing and Selandir understood the true might of ultimate warriors—beings capable of destroying a nation single-handedly.

Given enough time, they could train more elite knights. Even if the enemy reached Dragonspire itself, they could still turn the tide.

Meanwhile, in Goldenfeather Palace…

Bruno, for once, delivered a stern lecture to Garrett, assigning him several tutors to mold him into a proper crown prince.

Garrett offered no argument, bowing his head silently under his father’s reprimand.

But at last, he lifted his gaze, meeting Bruno’s eyes.

"Father, if Norin today wished to seize your throne—could you stop him?"

Bruno knew the truth.

Two Solar-level warriors, a dragon, multiple Meteor and Silver Moon knights—even if he destroyed Wushan Domain and Moonlight Valley, Norin could march openly into Goldenfeather City and kill him in broad daylight, not through assassination.

"Kingship is not about brute force," Bruno sighed. "If power alone decided rule, then my brother Ferenth, a Silver Moon knight, and Andreia, also Silver Moon, would surpass me—I am merely Silver-tier. Before them, I’d have no defense."

"But at least, should they betray me, I still have knights loyal to me who could stand against them."

Bruno did not deny this.

Truthfully, Norin was terrifyingly strong now.

By martial might alone, he had no means to control him.

Yet, the idea that Norin would betray the kingdom—or murder him outright—was nearly unthinkable.

After all, Blanche was Norin’s wife. Once they had children, Bruno would be the grandfather.

Without just cause, they would not come to blows.

"Though Misthaven won its battle, the fighting at Gery Highlands and Crimson Front has yielded no results—it remains deadlocked."

Gery Highlands was Ferenth’s domain, facing Baraton Duchy;

Crimson Front belonged to Andreia’s Vela Duchy, opposed by Blackthorn Duchy;

Meanwhile, Screaming Isle had sailed south across the Northern Sea, arriving at Vela’s ports to assist.

Bruno looked at his son.

"Choose a front. I will appoint you as military advisor to aid either Ferenth or Andreia in the coming campaigns. It will be good training for you."

Leaving Garrett in Goldfeather City was clearly unfeasible; sending him to Misthaven might only increase the likelihood of conflict with Ronin. Assigning him to these two frontlines, however, was indeed most suitable.

Garrett took a deep breath, rose to his feet, and said, “Thank you, Father, for your arrangement. In that case, I shall go to Faelen’s side.” (End of Chapter)