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Chapter 65: The Rise and Fall of the Dragon Clan

When you’re asleep, your spirit is most relaxed and sensitive to the power of the soul.

Falling into deep slumber is the best way to accommodate other souls—at least, that’s what Rolin said.

Roy initially thought this was pretty silly, but after witnessing the path of the former kings and various fragments of memories during his dreams, he felt Rolin might have a point.

In the spirit of trying everything at least once, Roy leaned against the fluffy griffin and quickly forced himself to sleep.

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The roar of dragons echoed long and deep.

The dusty past emerged with the wind, awakened by the throes of bloodlines after enduring the ages.

From a perspective unlike any before, Roy felt detached, almost like he was looking down upon others’ memories from a divine point of view.

In fact, these memories didn’t even belong to humans.

Under the vast blue sky, dragon wings flapped gracefully.

Massive giants walked the earth, elegant elves danced on the breeze, and the fiery Lion King roared from the mountaintop, while countless dragons soared freely between the pristine sky and the swirling mist.

In the First Era, the mythic age, when human civilization hadn’t yet emerged, the world still belonged to the gods.

Conflict among the glamorous gods was no less frequent, and the fires of war once stained the lives of many, but after the wars, peace reigned for a long while.

This was largely due to the many demigod leaders who didn’t desire conflict.

Among them, the most dazzling was undoubtedly the leader of dragons, the Lord of the Sky, Dragon King Bahamut.

The dark golden Dragon King possessed unmatched power, yet did not intimidate the weak; he wielded wisdom beyond the mundane world, intent solely on protecting others.

The just Dragon King treated every race equally, allowing even humans, who at the time hadn’t yet grasped extraordinary powers, to thrive under his rule.

Those were truly wondrous times, as beautiful as a myth.

However, the more beautiful the past, the less Roy could understand.

He couldn’t grasp what had happened that led the leader of all dragons, who once ruled the heavens, to lose his power and lie gasping in a barren grave.

But no matter what, peace couldn’t last forever.

Turmoil began to rise across the continent, and discord flared between the various races.

Many demigods stepped up, frantically trying to salvage the situation, and naturally, the Dragon King couldn’t remain on the sidelines.

But just at this critical moment, something worse happened.

War broke out.

The once undefeated supreme dragon clan found itself embroiled in internal strife for the first time, the clear sky stained crimson with dragon blood, and the land ravaged by dragon roars.

And the culprit behind it all was the Black Dragon Nidhogg.

This didn’t really surprise Roy.

Legend had it that Nidhogg, like Fafnir, descended into madness, bewitched many dragons, and challenged the authority of his father. This civil war became a turning point in the decline of the dragon clan and of the entire mythic age—a multitude of similar ballads have since spread, becoming the most reliable historical material for studying the First Era.

Just like believers of evil gods can succumb to cultism, dragons tainted by corruptive power can also become evil dragons. The Dragon King cleaning up his own house was nothing out of the ordinary.

But as the black dragon fought the Dragon King under the blood-red sunset, the truth revealed shattered Roy’s understanding.

Nidhogg, as the Dragon King’s eldest son and second only to the leader of dragons, was indeed powerful, yet he still fell to the Dragon King’s claws without any suspense, just as the records described.

But he wasn’t evil.

At least, not at that time.

“Are you insane, Nidhogg? Unleashing your claws against your own kin?!”

In response to the Dragon King’s inquiry, Nidhogg coldly chuckled in a cruel yet sorrowful manner: “Am I mad?”

“Who reaches out to outsiders while ignoring the interests of our own dragon kin? Who repeatedly carries the banner of unity, donating our food and lands, shedding our blood to defend their peace?!”

The Dragon King spoke solemnly: “Lives are not ranked in worth; even the foreign races deserve respect, and it is our duty to protect the weak.”

Nidhogg roared in defiance: “Only if it’s within our means!”

“How much longer do you plan to deceive us?! With the threat of world destruction at our doorstep, how can we even take care of ourselves, let alone help others?!”

“Father! Look at me and answer me, who exactly is mad here?!”

The stark truth unsettled the dragon kin, and even the Dragon King’s expression shifted for the first time, shocking Roy to his core.

The “World End Catastrophe” that the first saint, Angela, mentioned was not a falsehood.

There truly was such a significant threat that even mythic beings couldn’t overlook.

Roy simply didn’t expect that the danger would be so great it sent shivers down the spines of the mythic creatures.

With this in mind, Nidhogg’s actions were actually not all that difficult to comprehend.

Willing to cooperate with other races is undoubtedly a noble intent of the Dragon King.

But in times of crisis, the choice between prioritizing the safety of kin or that of outsiders is, for any dragon, a glaringly obvious decision.

“Child, you don’t understand. Only by uniting can we find a glimmer of hope!”

“Sure, a glimmer that’s so illusory, we don’t know how many kin we’d have to sacrifice, nor do we know if it will ever come to fruition!”

Nidhogg’s furious rebuke seemed to pierce the scales of the Dragon King, leaving him looking somewhat haggard and forlorn.

The vanquished ought to be punished; this was a universal law applicable to every race.

Yet the twin black dragon pleaded for his elder brother.

That would be Fafnir, who would later be deemed an evil dragon by humans.

“Father, please forgive my brother.”

“Lord Nidhogg only has our clan’s best interests at heart!”

“Honorable king, please spare your blood kin!”

Not just Fafnir.

From the seven celestial dragons to the newly hatched young dragons, regardless of whose ideology they supported, none wanted to see more bloodshed and sacrifice at this moment.

The bloodthirsty clan Roy remembered was now collectively praying for forgiveness and peace.

Perhaps they hoped Nidhogg would change, or maybe it was the bond of father-son affection, or maybe it was because he was the dragon clan’s false king, or perhaps they simply didn’t want to see any more bloodshed.

After a long silence, the Dragon King finally retracted his claws and cast a complex glance at Nidhogg.

“Born into the mortal world, only by working together can we find a glimmer of hope. One day, you will understand.”

No matter what, the Dragon King still harbored a sliver of hope.

Yet, that day would never come.

The towering figures of the dragons fell alongside the sky, the light of memories gradually fading, once again sealed beneath the sands of time.

Whether it was the hope of uniting the races, the benevolent acts of protecting the weak, or aspirations for peace, all were forgotten by the passage of years. When the dragon kin returned to the skies, all that remained was the blood and fire that had spread since the First Era, so profound it couldn’t even be washed away by time.

Crossing the threshold of memories, Roy returned to the Tomb of Kings after a long time away.

In the dark golden tomb chamber, the aged Old Man slowly opened his eyes, as if he had just awoken from a long dream.

“At that time, I should have killed him.”

A hoarse sigh lingered, bearing the regret and sorrow that hadn’t dissipated over the millennia.