"Note: For anyone who was subscribed to my previous Patreon, please send me a message on my new account. If I recognize you from before, I'll happily give you a free month."
Chapter 506: Rekindling the Flames
"Extra! Extra! His Majesty Cassius has awakened!"
"Demons are about to invade Anzeta! Marshal Dolo issues a war mobilization!"
"The Prime Minister makes an important statement: Demons are the greatest threat to the empire at this stage. They must be eradicated to preserve the empire's order!"
"The invincible and supreme His Majesty Cassius is set to hold a military parade in the outskirts of Isthalia!"
Newsboys ran through the streets, shouting their headlines. Occasionally, well-dressed gentlemen stopped them to buy the latest edition of "The Imperial Daily".
This issue sold exceptionally well, as the front cover featured an awe-inspiring image:
The ogre, disregarding his injured ear, stood at the forefront, surrounded by guards, raising his scepter high and pointing toward an unseen demonic foe, as if in a furious declaration.
Behind him, the flag of the Ember Empire billowed fiercely in the wind.
The Imperial Plaza buzzed with noise as crowds gathered around bulletin boards, discussing the empire's latest major events.
"These abyssal pests are getting too arrogant!"
"It's war!"
"Finally! My uncle died in a demon attack—now we can avenge him!"
"His Majesty has awakened! Everything will return to its rightful place! We will be victorious!"
Unlike citizens of other nations, the people of the empire showed little fear of the demonic invasion. Instead, they were filled with exhilaration and anticipation.
Their resentment toward the demons had long been simmering. Even half a year ago, people had begun calling for a "counterattack on the Abyss," and the sentiment had gained considerable support.
Years of unbroken military victories had ingrained an unshakable belief in the populace— The Ember Empire was invincible, and their great red dragon emperor was omnipotent.
This belief had been etched deeply into their minds, almost like an "ideological brand."
For most nations, war meant heavy taxes, brutal battles, and hardship.
But for the people of the Ember Empire—living within the heart of a war machine—war meant booming business, increased employment, and accelerated opportunities for promotion.
To them, war was both a risk and an opportunity—one they embraced wholeheartedly.
The empire's "Conqueror Faction" even took to the streets in jubilant marches, singing the newly composed "Song of Demon Slaughter" at the top of their lungs.
"We will slaughter all the demons!"
"We'll strip their filthy hides and make insoles!"
"We'll carve their horns into ornaments!"
In reality, this song was simply a repurposed "Song of the Southern Conquest", with "southerners" swapped for "demons."
"We will make the empire's flag fly over the Abyss."
"We will let fire dry the blood pools!"
Their voices rose ever louder, their enthusiasm infectious, forcing bystanders to step aside.
At the roadside, a refined-looking middle-aged man turned his head, eyes full of astonishment.
"Genesis, do you see this? The people of this nation react to demons like this? Have they been brainwashed by that emperor?"
Genesis sighed helplessly, lowering her voice. "This is the Ember Empire, Adroville.
Also, do not make any remarks about the emperor. So long as you are within the empire, he can hear you."
As she spoke, Genesis instinctively clutched her chest, where the firebrand still burned with phantom pain.
"Genesis, you're being overly paranoid. That red dragon isn't a god."
Adroville dismissed her warning, his curiosity leading him to continue observing the streets.
But soon, he found himself unable to speak— Genesis had cast [Silence] on him.
This middle-aged man was Adroville Melwod, a prime-aged silver dragon in human form and Genesis' cousin.
He was also one of the reinforcements sent by Melwod, known across Feanso as the "Guardian Scale."
At three hundred eighty years old, he was on the cusp of entering old age.
For centuries, he had fought on the frontlines against demonic invasions, wielding immense power that rivaled even most ancient silver dragons.
"We will make the demons tremble at our names."
The "Conqueror Faction"'s singing reverberated through the streets, while the surrounding imperial citizens shouted their own insults at the demons.
"This is… unreal."
Adroville couldn't help but exclaim.
In his three centuries of life, he had traveled to many lands ravaged by demonic invasions. In every case, the people responded with terror— They feared the demons. They hid. They did not dare resist.
Even the most militaristic of nations, like the Fadland Empire, had common folk who cowered at demonic incursions.
But here, in the Ember Empire, he saw something he had never encountered before— Joy, excitement, and anticipation.
Were they really humanoids?
Or were the citizens of this empire merely red dragons wearing human skin?
Watching the fervent crowds and listening to their eager discussions on how to slaughter demons, Adroville couldn't help but wonder.
Genesis reminded him, "Come on, Adroville. The military parade is about to begin."
Adroville smirked. "After seeing these crazed citizens, I'm curious— What must their army be like?"
However, Genesis seemed distracted, her mind adrift.
Since the bulletin stated that the emperor himself would be present at the parade, that meant the red dragon emperor would appear as well…
For some reason, his towering and imposing figure resurfaced in her mind.
Inner District of Isthalia, within a refined townhouse.
George placed three gold narn on the altar adorned with a red dragon statue, pressing his hands together in silent prayer.
"Invincible Cassius above."
"Grant me victory in the demon war. Let me achieve military merit."
Opening his eyes, he turned to the "Imperial Daily" laid out on his desk, his gaze firm with determination.
"A new war, a new opportunity."
"Whether I can rise through the ranks and become a true figure of importance in this campaign hinges on this."
Facing the mirror, George straightened his uniform's collar, pinned his lieutenant colonel's insignia onto his epaulet, and adjusted his military cap.
He gazed at his reflection—dignified and imposing—before finally stepping out the door.
"Hooooonk—"
The steam whistle sounded, signaling the train's imminent departure, carrying soldiers toward the military training grounds outside Isthalia.
Once the parade concluded, they would be deployed to southern Anzeta—
To Blackstone Fortress and other key military strongholds, where they would face the advancing demonic legions from Anstica.
The fires of war were about to reignite.
