Ember Dragon Novel Chapter 569: The Lord God and the Token

Chapter 569: Chapter 569: The Lord God and the Token

Chapter 569: The Lord God and the Token

Duke Aiden stared at the illustration of a bronze dragon in the ancient book, muttering to himself and clapping with delight:

"Wonderful, wonderful. What an unexpected delight."

He closed the "Faenso Dragon Compendium" and placed it on the table in front of him.

Then he rose from the sofa, standing with his hands behind his back in front of the wall adorned with portraits of past Seaver dukes, and spread his arms as he exclaid:

"My daughter, you may have brought us the friendship of an ancient bronze dragon—an invaluable treasure!

For the next several centuries, the Seaver family could benefit imnsely from this!"

Hearing her father’s excitent, even the normally reserved Heloise stood up, smiling with delight.

Duke Aiden turned and resud pacing the hall: "Heloise, you saw that magical image from the north, didn’t you?"

Heloise nodded gently: "Yes, Father. Teacher Kaoshike showed it to

a week ago.

If that wasn’t an illusion, then it only proves the Crimson Dragon Emperor of Anzeta is unimaginably terrifying—far beyond what mortals can contend with. He’s like..."

Recalling the dragon whose wings blotted out the sky, even Heloise’s violet eyes showed a trace of fear.

She paused, then continued: "Like a mythic monster—a world-eating serpent, a hundred-ard giant. He simply shouldn’t exist in the Third Era, where the gods are absent and mortals rule the earth."

Duke Aiden sighed and said heavily, "Yes, such a dragon is beyond our ans to resist. If the Holy Fadlan Empire still flourished, I might feel a little more assured. But now, the three kingdoms are locked in endless conflict, and the northern Ember Empire watches us greedily. I’m afraid..."

Duke Aiden lifted his head and stared solemnly at the grand map of the Faenso continent on the wall:

"I’m afraid that one day, that red dragon will invade the south and swallow the Kingdom of Thrace. Then we will lose our northern shield entirely.

And Victoria Port, the empire’s most prosperous and wealthy city in Silvermoon Bay, will be an obvious next target for that greedy red dragon. The Seaver family’s fate would be grim."

He looked to Heloise and said seriously, "Only ancient tallic dragons can contend with such a red dragon. Heloise, you may have found the Seaver family’s last hope."

Heloise said, "Father, His Majesty Wilhelm of Thrace is a noble and powerful angel-blooded ruler. He’s no weaker than a dragon. Besides... there’s still uncertainty about whether the Ember Empire will move south. So dragon scholars claim that red dragon is rely a greedy lord, and as long as he’s paid enough gold, he can be kept at bay."

Duke Aiden smiled bitterly: "Let’s hope I’m just being overly cautious.

A red dragon in the north, three kingdoms to the east, dragon cultists in the south, sea-dwelling naga, demons from the Abyss, and now the undead stirring the pot...

The Faenso continent is in utter chaos. I’m constantly anxious, losing sleep over the fear that the Seaver family’s centuries of legacy might end with ."

Heloise walked to her father’s side and softly said, "It won’t, Father."

To the people of Victoria Port, Duke Aiden was a stern and cold nobleman, commander of the city’s rcenary corps. But all his tenderness was reserved for his daughter.

Only around Heloise did the duke ever show a genuine smile.

Duke Aiden suddenly noticed dust on Heloise’s robes.

He rembered then—his daughter had just survived a preditated ambush. If not for the "Hermit," she might not have returned alive.

His expression darkened, and a cold glint flashed in his eyes: "Heloise, describe those cultists again. To dare ambush a Seaver caravan near Victoria Port... they must have a death wish."

His tone was icy.

Heloise answered, "Father, they called themselves the Cult of the Lord God. They claid their deity was all-knowing and all-powerful. Their leader wielded imnse psionic power—at least archmage-level. The black hole he created was no weaker than Teacher Kaoshike’s spells."

"The Lord God... that na sounds familiar."

Duke Aiden stroked his neatly trimd beard and fell into thought.

Monts later, he called the butler standing by the door and gave a terse command:

"Vicente, go to the family archives. Find everything we have on this so-called ’Lord God.’"

"Yes, Your Grace."

Vicente bowed and swiftly departed for the archive room.

As Silvermoon Bay’s largest and busiest port city, Victoria Port was ho to hundreds of factions, and countless cults.

As commander of the "Mithril Hand" rcenary force responsible for the city’s security, Aiden had all intelligence collected stored in the archives for ergencies and better control of the city.

Before long, Vicente returned, carrying a stack of docunts—newspapers, warrants, bounty notices.

"Your Grace, these are all the records we have on the Cult of the Lord God.

They first appeared eleven years ago, initially recruiting impoverished commoners from the lower city.

For a decade, they remained obscure—nothing like the famous Deep Sea Dominators, the Returners, or the Bhaal cult."

Vicente pulled out a set of docunts and continued, "But starting last July, their activity surged. Twenty-one disappearances and twelve murders have been linked to them.

The Mithril Hand launched multiple investigations but found no base of operations. Outside the city, however, they seem to be recruiting goblins, ogres, and other monsters en masse."

"That is the extent of the intelligence, Your Grace."

Vicente handed over the files, then stood quietly to the side.

Duke Aiden skimd the papers and muttered, "Recruiting monsters outside the city...

That explains why northern roads have seen so many caravan attacks lately—it wasn’t random banditry but organized monster troops."

"Smack."

He slapped the docunts onto the table, his tone sharp.

"Heh. To pull this near Victoria Port, they must have backing. And trying to kidnap my daughter? Unforgivable."

"Simon Amorim."

"My lord."

The commander of the Mithril Hand stepped in, kneeling respectfully.

Simon appeared to be in his thirties—tall, strong, with a scar over half his face.

Adopted by the Seaver family during warti, he had received the best knightly training. He had served Aiden loyally for over twenty years.

Known as the "sharpest blade of the Seaver family," he was said to be nearing the legendary tier.

Duke Aiden threw the docunts at his feet: "Simon, I want the Mithril Hand’s elite to thoroughly investigate this ’Lord God’ cult. Do it quietly. Avoid alarming them."

Simon picked up the docunts, skimd them, and replied firmly, "Yes, my lord."

He was always direct, loyal only to Aiden, heedless of all else.

Suddenly, Heloise recalled sothing and said, "Father, one more thing— The Hermit called those cultists ’bugs,’ and he seed familiar with them, as if he’d encountered them before."

"Oh?"

Aiden’s brow furrowed deeper.

The Hermit was a bronze dragon who had slumbered for at least four hundred years. Even Victoria Port didn’t exist back then.

If he recognized the cult, then it wasn’t a new sect, but an ancient one that had existed for centuries.

And ancient cults were a different threat entirely. The Seaver family itself had only risen two hundred years ago.

Aiden’s expression darkened. "Heloise, is the Hermit still in Victoria Port?"

"Yes. He said he wanted to explore the city casually."

"Can you contact him? It’s ti we formally t our potential future ally."

"Of course."

Heloise pulled a pale green coin from her pocket: "He gave

this token. Said if I toss it in the air, he’ll co."

Aiden raised his hand: "Wait. Don’t use it yet."

He turned to Vicente: "Summon Master Kaoshike and the other two captains."

"Yes, Your Grace."

Soon, a man in a dark blue robe, holding a mithril staff, entered and bowed elegantly.

He looked just over forty and was ticulously grood.

"Good day, Duke Aiden. Sorry to keep you waiting."

He was Kaoshike Hayden, head mage of the Seaver family, master of the Coastal Mage Tower, disciple of Grand Sage Trafalanro, and a well-respected archmage.

To be called an archmage in Faenso ant being one step away from becoming a legendary mage.

"Master Kaoshike."

Aiden nodded to him, then looked to the door.

A man and woman in Seaver armor arrived, kneeling before him.

"Your Grace."

They were Feodor Pett and Jenny Ardis, the other two leaders of the Mithril Hand—both loyal and imnsely powerful.

Kaoshike looked at them and said, "Duke Aiden, you must have called us here for sothing important."

"Indeed. This may well change the Seaver family’s future."

Kaoshike’s face turned serious, and the three captains listened intently.

Duke Aiden nodded slightly and said clearly:

"Today, we will welco a special guest.

Soone you would never expect—a bronze dragon who has awakened from a slumber of more than four hundred years."

"What?"

Everyone looked stunned. Kaoshike gasped aloud.

Gripping his staff, he said shakily, "Your Grace, with all due respect, allow

to clarify: bronze dragons live 800 to 1,000 years, but to sleep for over 400 at once—that makes him an Ancient Dragon."

An Ancient Bronze Dragon.

As Trafalanro’s student, he knew what such a being represented.

Even the Silver Dragon "Wings of Silver" Oszedro, who had resolved planar crises and repelled Abyssal invasions, was only an Ancient Dragon.

And even his master showed deference to Oszedro.

For the Seaver family to gain such a connection was truly reaching for the stars.

Kaoshike began adjusting his robes anxiously.

Servants brought heaps of gold and dragon-favored items, decorating the hall per the "Faenso Dragon Compendium."

After much discussion and Kaoshike’s coaching on draconic etiquette, everyone stood ready.

Duke Aiden straightened his mustache and told his daughter, "Heloise, begin."

"Yes, Father."

She nodded, pulled out the bronze coin, and tossed it into the air.

"Ding—"

The crisp ring of tal filled the air. Everyone held their breath.

The space in the hall distorted, then shattered like glass.

The wards and alarms Kaoshike had placed remained silent, easily bypassed by this presence.

Then a warm, low male voice echoed in the hall:

"Miss Heloise, sorry to keep you waiting. But you were right. Victoria Port is indeed a lovely city. I like it here."

Everyone turned toward the voice and saw a man in a gray cloak holding a bronze staff step from the spatial rift.