Chapter 562: Territory Under the Sun
"Woo—"
Accompanied by the roar of the whistle, the steam train slowly entered the platform. This train was exquisitely decorated, with luxurious compartments inside, and it was located in the upper district of Isthalia.
However, this "special train" had now arrived in a more central region, an area named after the former site of the Ember Nest—New Storm Highlands.
Around the station stood various buildings of wildly different styles: crude and menacing caves, rugged and bold tents, and tall, magnificent concrete and steel structures.
Those living here were all prominent "big figures" within the Ember Empire; the minimum qualification to be admitted was the title of Dragon-Blood Earl.
"New Storm Highlands station reached. Dear esteemed passengers, please disembark in an orderly manner. Thank you all for your contributions to the Empire. Long live Cassius!"
As the conductor's passionate voice rang out, humans, Hobgoblins, tieflings, and ogre nobles with distinct draconic features disembarked one after another.
In the distance, a human noble dressed in military uniform and carrying a leather bag came walking briskly and hurriedly boarded the train. He, too, had noble dragon scales and golden vertical pupils.
However, at this moment, this Dragon-Blood noble appeared somewhat weary. Dark circles hung under his golden vertical pupils, showing none of the usual vitality of a Red Dragon scion.
—This was George. A few days ago, during the medal ceremony, he had been promoted to Dragon-Blood Earl.
As the Empire's exclusive train, the compartments were extremely luxurious. On both sides hung red dragon oil paintings in golden frames, the floor was covered with soft carpets, and leather sofas were arranged inside.
George sat on the sofa, took a sip of the tea prepared on the table, glanced at the silver watch on his wrist, and frowned slightly.
"Another emergency meeting. So many matters at the Ministry of War recently?"
No wonder George found it strange. In just a few short days, the Empire's Ministry of War had held over a dozen meetings.
However, he had just been promoted to commander of the Third Army Division and was busy with unit integration and handovers, unable to spare the time until now.
But this time, Marshal Dolo had personally ordered all senior generals to be present. No one was allowed to be absent. George had no choice but to make time to rush to the meeting site.
The Empire's special train was especially smooth and fast. It was said to have high-level magical protection, even able to withstand sixth-circle spells.
Soon, the train left Isthalia's urban area and sped across the vast plains of the outskirts.
The scenery outside changed rapidly, often obscured by the steam emitted by the train's movement, but George still turned his head to gaze out the window, quietly looking toward the south.
In the distance lay endless farmlands. In the golden fields of rice, the wheat undulated like waves, and iron beasts roared as they worked in the fields.
But George's eyes were fixed on the cloudless azure sky, as if seeing the fertile, vast land of Feianso—the battlefield of his future campaigns.
Suddenly, as if recalling something, George's eyes lit up and he muttered to himself, "That's right, no wonder the Ministry of War has held so many meetings.
Perhaps the Empire's large-scale expansion is about to begin, and our expeditionary force will head south to conquer the vast Feianso continent."
Expansion, conquest, achievements—was this not what he dreamed of day and night?
He had imagined countless times such scenes in his dreams: raising his longsword, horns blaring behind him, cannon fire roaring, as he led the army to capture one grand city after another in the south.
In the end, he would stand before His Majesty Cassius, rise to the peak of power in the Ember Empire, and become a true "big figure."
Now, he was already a Dragon-Blood Earl. That seemingly unattainable goal—might no longer be far away. He just needed an opportunity.
Thinking of this, George grew increasingly excited, his golden, reptilian vertical pupils slightly glimmering.
The previous fatigue and impatience in his eyes vanished. The Dragon-Blood Earl was once again full of spirit, his face filled with ambition.
"Refill my tea."
George downed the tea on the table in one gulp and beckoned the attendant. He even began to look forward to the upcoming meeting.
"Woo—"
"Empire First Military Training Base station reached. Esteemed passengers, please disembark in an orderly fashion, and remember His Majesty's grace."
Surrounded by attendants, George stepped slowly off the train and immediately saw Gres waving at him not far away.
"Good day, Earl George."
"Earl George, I've long admired you. Your heroic feats on the battlefield fill me with respect."
"Do you remember me? We once guarded the same war zone together."
"So you're the Earl George. I read about you in the Imperial Daily."
Seeing George step off the train, lower-ranked Dragon-Blood nobles nearby came forward to greet him, hoping to leave a good impression on the "new aristocrat."
George was a bit impatient but forced a smile and greeted them one by one, finally arriving before Baron Gres.
Gres removed his hat, bowed respectfully, and smiled. "Good day, Lord George."
George waved his hand and said helplessly, "Enough, Gres. We've known each other for so long, no need to put on a show here."
Immediately, the surrounding Dragon-Blood nobles looked sideways at Baron Gres and whispered.
Just a baron, yet able to stand equal to an earl? This Baron Gres might also be worth befriending.
George knew the kind of influence his behavior would cause, but for an old friend, this kind of help was just a casual gesture.
After all, George disliked socializing to begin with. As his status rose, those he still considered "friends" were few and far between.
Gres put his military hat back on and said, "This isn't putting on a show. It's the necessary etiquette of military hierarchy. After all, you're already a noble earl, eligible to ride the Empire's special train, while I'm still just a mere Dragon-Blood Baron."
George looked at the tall military base in the distance and casually said, "Isn't this exactly what you wanted? A safe, stable job, living in the bustling Isthalia city, no longer needing to go to the battlefield with your heart in your throat."
Gres nodded. "You're right about that."
George asked again, "You're more well-informed than I am. Is the Empire's Ministry of War planning something big recently?"
Gres was a bit surprised. "As an earl, you haven't been following this? The military forces across the Empire, even the colonies, are mobilizing.
According to speculation, the Empire is likely going to seize the momentum from our great victory against the Abyssal War and launch a full-scale war against the Kingdom of Thrace."
George nodded slightly and replied, "So it really is like that. That's more or less what I suspected."
"Whoosh—"
A tearing sound rang out, followed by the sound of flames exploding. All the officers present, including George, turned to look toward the source of the sound.
Ripples appeared in the air, and a vortex of flames emerged in midair, making the surrounding atmosphere hot and distorted.
Immediately after, a flame wyvern flapped its blazing wings and flew out roaring. On its back was a half-dragon knight in armor, awe-inspiring.
At once, the Dragon-Blood nobles began discussing and all looked up at the figure in the air.
"Who is that?"
"Is he... an officer from the Fire Elemental Plane Expeditionary Force?"
"Wait, I recognize him. He's the governor of the Fire Elemental Plane colony, the newly promoted Dragon-Blood Marquis—Lord Serkan."
"What? Even the governor of the Fire Elemental Plane came personally to attend this meeting!"
The officers watching were stunned and hurriedly saluted the marquis in the air. Even George took off his military hat and placed his fist to his chest, offering a standard "Loyalty Salute."
Yet that wasn't the end. Ripples appeared again in the distance as a pitch-black portal slowly opened.
With the crisp sound of bones, a skeletal dragon-serpent crawled out. On its back was a pale-skinned man in a black robe.
"It's Lord Hart from the Underdark! He actually came too."
Around the military base, more portals appeared out of thin air, and expeditionary officers from various Imperial colonies began to arrive one after another.
"Fire Elemental Plane, Underdark, Wind Elemental Plane, Fey Wilds..."
George looked at the increasingly crowded base and said to Gres, "Looks like the Empire really is planning something big this time."
Gres nodded solemnly. "No doubt about it."
But he smiled again and continued, "But this probably doesn't concern a garrison like me who stays behind in the Empire and has no ambition. Lord George, I wish you invincibility in the south. I'll pray for you before His Majesty Cassius back in the Empire."
Soon, the group entered the interior of the military base. The spacious hall had been transformed into a stage large enough to accommodate tens of thousands.
Imperial soldiers from all over the Empire, and even from across the multiverse, had gathered.
Humans, tieflings, Hobgoblins, ogres, and even Starfallers who had long lost their citizenship—all races were present, and many of the officers were Dragon-Blood nobles.
As a Dragon-Blood Earl, George naturally secured a front-row seat. He gazed at the vast stage with great anticipation.
Inside the hall, the officers were abuzz.
"The Abyssal War didn't end that long ago. Are we really going to war with the Kingdom of Thrace?"
"Hmph, coward. We Conquerors have long wanted to declare war on them! Those Fadlans don't deserve such rich lands!"
"As Imperial soldiers, do you really fear war? We are, after all, vassals of His Majesty Cassius—"
Suddenly, a dignified and powerful voice echoed through the hall.
"Everyone—"
People turned to the stage and saw a tall figure appear. He had a fierce face, crimson skin, wide dragon wings on his back, and smoke swirling around him.
"That aura is so powerful. Do you feel it? That's the pressure of bloodline!"
"That is..."
"Great Red Dragon, did you see his form? No wonder he's the Dragon-Blood Duke of the Empire!"
"By Cassius, it's Marshal Dolo! He actually came to give us a speech himself."
This was one of the Empire's three Grand Dukes, the Supreme Marshal of the Ministry of War—the Dragonblood Hobgoblin known as the "Dragonrage Warlord," Dolo!
Dolo opened his tooth-filled mouth, folded his wings behind him, and snorted smoke from his nostrils.
"Silence."
Immediately, the hall filled with thousands of officers fell completely silent, so quiet that a pin drop could be heard.
Military training in the Empire was far stricter than the former noble army of the Northern United Kingdom, and what it valued most wasn't individual bravery—but obedience.
Any random soldier could recite every article of the "Imperial Military Drill Code" and react instinctively to a superior's order.
At that moment, every Imperial officer in the hall stood upright, their heads held high like flagpoles.
Only then did Dolo nod in satisfaction and continue, "I believe you can already guess why I gathered you here."
The Dragonblood Hobgoblin suddenly clenched his fist, and behind him appeared a massive magical projection—a map of the Feianso continent.
Dolo pointed his claw to the area marked "Kingdom of Thrace" at the top of the map and said deeply:
"Conquest."
Dolo turned and began pacing back and forth on the wide stage. His low voice echoed through the hall.
Behind him, the projection shifted to show the war-torn, crater-filled southern lands, where displaced civilians cried mournfully.
"Everyone, look at those Fadlans. They are insatiably greedy, wasting such rich and fertile land.
Anzeta has been silent for far too long. This remote region has been seen as a barbaric land by the southerners until more than ten years ago...
His Majesty Cassius, the great and supreme, rose like the sun and changed everything!
Dolo's voice grew more and more passionate and powerful, reverberating off the walls of the hall.
Now, the era of letting other nations divide the continents and seas while Anzeta is content with wastelands is over—we too demand territory under the sun."
"Conquest!"
He raised the bloodfire battle axe in his hand, spread his wide wings, and shouted with arms outstretched.
"Conquest! Conquest!"
"For His Majesty Cassius, for the Ember Empire!"
The hall instantly erupted. Those obsessed with war shouted in unison, echoing Dolo's cry.
The eager Conquerors, long impatient for war, even broke into song and let out deafening roars.
In the frenzied crowd, George too raised his arm high, shouting at the top of his lungs. His heart, filled with Dragon-Blood, pounded fiercely.
Yes, conquest.
What a beautiful word. It was through conquest in the North that he became a Dragon-Blood noble.
He would lead his army in the name of the Empire and in the name of Cassius to conquer the South until he reached the peak of power.
So thought this former Northern serf, now Dragon-Blood Earl.