CHAPTER 77: CHAPTER77-PASS THE THRONE TO ME AND LET ME SIT

Draconis Astralis.

A colossal shard of land floats amid a sea of glittering nebulae, veiled in ancient forests and laced with crystal-bright ore. Immense waterfalls spill from the floating isle’s rim, dissolving into stardust that drifts down into the endless void. From time to time, the silhouettes of hatchlings flit through curling mists and strands of starshine.

This is the dwelling place of one of the Sakend Universe’s apex powers—the Dragon Race.

"Father, I—Fiona—have returned!"

A resonant dragon’s cry split the stillness of the star-isle. In an instant, all of Draconis Astralis quivered in response.

Deep within Dragon Island, in a lair woven of frost and star-gold, an ancient ice dragon with sapphire-bright scales snapped open his eyes.

"Fiona!"

His roar rang with irrepressible joy as his vast body surged skyward.

All across the isle, dragons leapt from their aeries: fire dragons wreathed in blazing manes, cloud dragons riding storm and thunder, crystal-plate dragons whose armor gleamed like mountains of gemstone. At the sight of Fiona, they answered in respectful, exultant voices:

"Lady Fiona! You’ve finally come home!"

"Your Highness, it’s been so long—you’ve grown thinner!"

Among the dragons, Fiona’s status was exalted: named princess by decree, the future leader of dragonkind. Years ago, when she was cast into a low-magic world, it had seemed like exile. In truth, an ancient prophecy foretold that in that humble realm she would meet the chance that could alter the Dragon Race’s fate.

But the prophecy went astray. It foresaw the Star Bloodline, yet failed to foresee another presence—Leo.

Because Leo appeared and fell in love with Hathaway, bearer of the Star Bloodline, Hathaway did not awaken her blood as the prophecy had ordained, nor did she cross paths with Fiona as foretold. Fate’s track thus swerved: the profound bond that formed was not between Fiona and Hathaway, but between Fiona and Hathaway’s daughter—Lilith.

Call it the caprice of destiny, yet the outcome... did not seem ill.

By her own choice, Fiona had steered the Dragons toward a path utterly different, yet bursting with possibility.

"Fiona!"

The ancient ice dragon swept near, unable to mask the tremor of emotion in his voice.

"Father!"

Fiona answered, thrumming with the same feeling.

As he neared, Andrew’s pupils tightened. Plain as daylight, he sensed it: Fiona’s rank had reached Divine Envoy.

To attain such a height in a low-magic world—unbelievable. Given a bit more time, she might surpass the brightest talents and outstrip even the elders.

What stunned him more was the blood within her veins. Her draconic lineage had grown preternaturally pure and mighty—threaded with a pressure he could not comprehend, a higher stratum of life itself.

This was a heaven-sent chance, beyond doubt.

Andrew’s heart swelled with gratitude that she had been the dragon to realize the prophecy—only, what hardship she must have endured, alone for so many years in that impoverished realm. Warmth and pity flickered in his gaze. By years, she had still been a child when she left...

"Your Majesty!"

At Andrew’s arrival, the assembled dragons lowered their heads in reverence. During Fiona’s absence, Andrew had, by virtue of strength and prestige, become the new Dragon Emperor. The previous emperor’s bid for the Divine Monarch realm had ended in madness; in the end, he was subdued by a united dragon host. The race reeled, and Andrew took the mantle to steady them.

"Father—you’re Emperor now?!"

Fiona’s surprise mingled with delight.

Andrew’s massive head dipped, a shadow of rueful feeling crossing his eyes.

At once, a powerful golden dragon blurted, unable to wait:

"Your Highness Fiona, during your travels—did you find the one from the prophecy, the one who will lead our race to its destiny?"

Every gaze fixed upon Fiona, bright with hope.

Fiona lifted her long neck, a modest pride in her tone.

"Of course."

Two simple words—and all Draconis Astralis erupted in ecstatic roars. The very star-clouds trembled.

"Your Highness, where is this being now?" pressed the golden dragon.

"Dalton," Fiona replied evenly.

Dalton?!

A ripple of murmurs spread. The name had been on many tongues of late—a human power that had appeared out of nowhere, famed already for its strength.

"Fiona," Andrew said, brow furrowing, his tone edged with displeasure, "if you have found the prophesied one, why did you not bring them back to Dragon Island? This concerns the future of our entire race."

Fiona’s expression turned a touch wryly human. Easy to say. Even setting aside that Lilith had just endured a century of pursuit and was exhausted in heart and spirit, in need of rest— even if she were at her peak, how could Fiona simply "invite" her away, given President Leo’s devotion to his daughter and the power Dalton Town had already displayed?

At the memory of Lilith’s ordeal, Fiona remembered the true purpose of her return.

"Father, the prophecy can wait. There is a more pressing matter."

Andrew’s confusion deepened. "More pressing? What is it?"

Fiona’s voice carried, clear and unflinching, throughout the skies.

"Hand the Dragon Throne to me. Let me sit it."

"..."

"Absurd!"

Andrew froze a heartbeat, then roared, fury spilling out in a gale of draconic might. The Dragon Throne is no trifling bauble to be handed over at a whim. This is not some treasure one can grit his teeth and give away because one’s daughter fancies it. The throne is not his private pain to endure; it is the axis of a race.

At his resolute refusal, Fiona pouted ever so slightly. Truth be told, after witnessing the breadth and grandeur of Dalton Town, she found herself rather unimpressed by the title of Dragon Emperor.

"Father, you must look farther ahead," she pressed gently but firmly.

"Pass the throne to me, and I will lead our race into an age of glory beyond precedent."

"Oh?" Andrew’s eyes narrowed. "Then tell me—how will you lead us to glory?"

Fiona drew herself up, wings flaring a fraction.

"That part is simple."

"We will lead all dragonkind to join Dalton Town, and become its most steadfast ally."

The world fell silent.

A beat later, suppressed firestorms of dragon-breath erupted, braided with furious roars.

"Impossible!"

"Dragons will never be slaves! We bow to no power!"

"Your Highness—how can you speak such words, desecrating the honor of our kind?!"

Even Andrew gazed at her with open disapproval.

"Fiona! Do you know what you are saying? We descend from the star-ancient epochs; honor is etched into our very bones! Better to die with heads held high than kneel to survive!"

The bold words struck the chord of every dragon’s pride.

"His Majesty speaks true!"

"Honor is our life!"

Seeing her kin react so, Fiona’s heart grew anxious. Dalton Town—what a place chosen by destiny! The Dragons stood close enough to drink from the spring, yet risked turning away for the sake of pride grown stiff and blind.

She drew a long breath. Resolve kindled in her eyes.

"Father, everyone—what I say is truth. Dalton Town is far beyond your imagining."

"And the being in the prophecy—the one who can change the fate of our race—is none other than Miss Lilith, daughter of Lord Leo, master of Dalton Town."

Boom.

The revelation struck like a hammer on every dragon’s heart. The prophesied one... the daughter of that mysterious lord of Dalton Town?

Andrew’s pupils contracted sharply. Possibilities, balances of advantage, threads of risk and promise flashed through his mind in a storm.

Then—

Vmm—!

From the sacred temple at the heart of the island burst a boundless, terrifying surge of dragon’s might. For an instant, the star-glow over all of Draconis Astralis dimmed.