Chapter 377: King of Dragons, Campaign Begins

The vista of the island gradually unfurled before the returning dragons, a sight that left them profoundly perplexed.

They had braced themselves for a landscape of savage ruin, for they had all witnessed the cataclysm when the Dragon God first descended from the heavens. They remembered the dragons who could not withstand the transformation—those who descended into madness, frenzy, and desperate, futile prayer, launching indiscriminate assaults until their strength failed them.

Yet, this island, once their ancestral home, now presented a scene of remarkable tranquility, even beauty. Dragons flew or strolled across the terrain, tending to their own affairs. Compared to their memories, the landscape was dotted with structures, though most were neither complex nor grand.

They were as simple as the dragons themselves had once been: caves, lined with the treasures they favored—gold or gems—though this varied by the individual, as some dragons eschewed such things, collecting curiosities of a more peculiar nature.

From the periphery, they observed many dragons curled atop their hoards, lost in deep slumber—a state most common to their kind.

In this slumber, dragons grow, transitioning from hatchling to youth, from youth to elder. Their bloodlines contain the blueprint for their own ascension; provided they consume sufficient energy, they need only sleep to inherit the ancient wisdom and grow ever more formidable. Body and magic advance in tandem, and the adage that an older dragon is a stronger dragon has never once been proven false.

"This is not right. It is entirely contrary to what we expected."

The white dragon in their ranks voiced her confusion once more. As Goliath had assessed her, she was a dull-witted creature, yet she possessed one virtue: when she did not understand something, she immediately sought out those she deemed wise.

"No, Doris, it is quite the opposite. It proves that they are currently under constraint. Otherwise, they would never be content to remain in this isolated corner, confined to an island, nor would we be the only ones seen upon the continent—we, who are branded as heretics."

It was not Goliath the green dragon who answered, though he had been preparing to speak; the red dragon, Kaiser, had preempted him.

"Why?" Doris asked bluntly.

"A simple question: if you were given the chance to return home, but were forced to stay here forever, unable to leave, would you accept?" Kaiser gazed at the island that had once been his home, posing the query to the white dragon.

"I would not." Doris answered without hesitation.

"Why?" Kaiser asked with a faint smile.

"Though this is my home, it is far too barren and dull compared to the continent. The things on the mainland bring me great joy. The kobolds in the territory I claimed are often terrified by me, scurrying about and offering tributes as if I were the Dragon God himself."

"Observing these little creatures is a source of great happiness. If I returned here, I would only see the same dragons flying to and fro, and I would have to endure you boring dragons mocking my intelligence again."

Doris listed her reasons for refusing to return to the island with the familiarity of one reciting a treasure inventory.

The faint smile on Kaiser’s face stiffened. He truly did not know what to say. It seemed this foolish white dragon had never once hidden her tracks; compared to his own life of displacement, she had somehow never been discovered by the Cult of the Dragon. What could one say? That fools have their own fortune?

"Precisely. It is the same for all dragons, and I suspect it is the same for all of you. If we could leave this island to explore the world, we would never choose to remain here forever. In the end, there is undoubtedly a power binding them. Beneath this facade of peaceful living, countless chains are woven through their very bodies."

Goliath spoke, taking up the thread for the momentarily speechless Kaiser—explaining why these dragons lived in such stable peace, yet remained bound by the Dragon God.

Is this the power of a god? Though he had witnessed the power of the deities worshipped by mortals on the continent, Goliath still could not grasp the essence of that force.

Furthermore, how the Dragon God could accept worship remained beyond his understanding. How their King had suddenly become a god was a mystery; perhaps only the Dragon God himself knew the truth. Now, it was time to settle accounts with their former King.

"It is time. If there is anything in our path, I shall clear it. Do not forget our purpose: find 'Him' first."

Aerielian cast one last look at the island before turning to issue orders to the disparate dragons she had gathered.

The next moment, every dragon beat their wings, diving toward the island below. Violent currents of air tore the clouds in the sky asunder behind them.

The dragons, flying at breakneck speed, soon reached the island. The moment they crossed into the domain of the Endless Sea, they felt a shift. The entire realm—the island itself—was shrouded in an invisible force.

Though they could not name it, an instinct born from their bloodlines made them acutely aware of the source: their former King, the Dragon King, Wendel Mix.

"It is His power. Can you feel it? This island is completely blanketed by the power He possesses. The moment we entered, He knew. We are likely to face His endless onslaught." Kaiser warned.

"Be careful. Even if He has distributed the vast majority of His power, what remains is not to be underestimated."

As Aerielian guided the dragons, she spoke while summoning several massive silver blades, ready to meet the terrifying assault of the Dragon God.

Yet, to their surprise, the expected attack did not come. They had all faced the terrifying claws that descended from the heavens, and this domain—this island—was effectively the Dragon God’s "Kingdom of Heaven." And yet, He did not strike.

Instead, they were met with the hostility of the "believers." The dragons living freely on the island raised their heads, staring at the sky, watching the heretics who had invaded their home.

The eyes of the dragons were filled with fury. The natural light within them was suppressed by His power, leaving only undisguised hostility and the desire to slaughter. To them, these dragons were not kin, but absolute heretics—entities that needed to be purged.

Goliath’s gaze rested upon the dense swarm of dragons filling the sky, blotting out the sun. He felt no fear, nor much hostility, but rather a flash of realization.

The hypothesis he had held was confirmed the moment he entered the island: why the Dragon God had not struck them down.

This island was the Heaven He intended to construct. Regardless of all else, those who carried the blood of dragons in their veins were counted as citizens of this Heaven. Until the Kingdom was complete, the Dragon God could not directly attack those still considered His subjects.

As for why the Cult of the Dragon could invoke His power to attack them, the reason was simple: the Cult were His worshippers, and these believers had never been counted as citizens of the "Heaven." They were merely expendable followers. Invoking the Dragon God’s power to strike was simply a god fulfilling the duties requested by his devotees.

"So that is it. The Dragon God is a singular existence. I have never seen a god who could force those who are not believers to worship Him. If one can achieve this, then that god must be the most powerful of all, for His source of power is infinite; the faith He commands would grow without limit."

"Moreover, there have been many powerful beings in the past, and more than one who could rival Him, but He alone became a 'God'."

Goliath muttered to himself, ideas colliding within his brilliant mind. He had understood much, yet more questions arose.

The reason the Dragon God did not strike them directly was clear: He could not. And why the resident dragons could attack them was equally simple: it was merely a conflict among the citizens of Heaven. The Kingdom did not restrict the will of its inhabitants; this was their "own desire."

"How did Wendel Mix manage to accept the power of faith, and how did He forcibly influence the minds of the dragons on this island?"

Goliath chewed on these two questions, but reached no conclusion. Chanting His true name, the green dragon ceased his idle speculation. The battle had begun.

At the very least, Aerielian was right: if they could decapitate the Dragon God, Wendel Mix, everything would end here.

Their target was clear: the center of the island. There, a golden dragon hovered in silence, his body tightly wrapped in his own wings. Those glorious wings were both his vessel for flight and his impenetrable shield. He was like an exquisite, sturdy cocoon; the moment the Kingdom of Heaven was forged, he would emerge as a butterfly.

"Follow me." Aerielian said softly. The dragons rising into the sky had already unleashed their breath upon the heretics without hesitation. Pillars of flame, bolts of lightning, torrents of acid, and freezing gales—a chaotic deluge of power covered half the sky, crashing down upon them with unimaginable force.

Aerielian had faced similar scenes before. Perhaps that battle had not involved so many, but compared to then, this silver dragon was far stronger.

Grasping one of the silver blades she had summoned, the silver dragon swung it diagonally upward against the overwhelming barrage. The strike, concentrated to its limit, did not tear through physical matter, but through space itself.

From the perspective of the dragons following Aerielian, it seemed as if the entire sky had been sliced open, the upper and lower space sliding out of alignment, diverting the onslaught to the other side. The path that had been obscured by the endless barrage was cleared by Aerielian’s single strike.

Beating their wings, the nine dragons charged toward the golden dragon, who remained motionless. Within each of their bodies, a formidable power began to boil, held back no longer.