The question of whether the First Emperor of the early Zijinghua Empire was a "good emperor" had always been extremely controversial.
A founding monarch whose name was etched into the continent's imperial history—yet whose civil governance was so inhumane it defied description.
But one thing was undeniable: without that passionate, ambitious emperor, the vast empire that followed would never have existed.
Yet if you asked about the greatest contribution he made to Zijinghua, the answer would be strangely unanimous.
It wasn't the rich, expansive territory that allowed self-sufficiency. Nor the enduring prestige and martial culture lasting for centuries. Not even the Holy Trial that bestowed blessings upon subsequent emperors.
It was dragonblood—without a doubt, dragonblood.
A unique nation on the continent, founded by a hero who bathed in dragonblood and received a dragon's blessing. Generation after generation, his descendants were all dragonblood emperors with the potential to become legendary combatants.
That alone was enough to make every other royal family drool.
As an emperor, you could be absurdly rich. If your kidneys held out, having three thousand beauties in your harem—sure. You could seize vast lands and build decadent palaces.
But could you live long enough to enjoy it?
Even if you stayed healthy, what about assassination?
All the problems tormenting ordinary emperors were insignificant to the Norton family, whose blood carried dragonblood through every generation.
A workaholic Norton like the Empress was an extremely rare exception. Most Norton emperors were like Quinn—the Silver Dragon Princess. While their peers cultivated themselves to death, Nortons simply ate, drank, and enjoyed life as dragonblood casually remodeled their bodies into superhumans.
Long-lived, rarely sick, and powerful enough without training to make any assassin despair—if a country consistently produced emperors like that, naturally it wouldn't decline.
But naturally, this would also inspire jealousy and greed in other nations.
The greatest crisis the Zijinghua Empire faced since its founding occurred around the time of the Eighth Emperor—during Linen's great-grandfather's generation.
When the Eighth Emperor lay dying, his heir returned from his fief to the capital to see his father one last time—and to prepare for the inheritance rite.
But the prince—wise, valiant, and overflowing with dragonblood—who should have inherited the throne, was assassinated in an unprecedented ambush on the road.
Four high-Ring Arcana Mages above the Seventh Ring, along with countless deadly assassins, struck down the prince who had been a mere step away from the throne.
And once again, the world witnessed the terror of dragonblood.
Even after being ambushed first by forbidden spells, the prince still dragged down two Arcana Mages above the Eighth Ring and every assassin who approached him before finally dying.
Yet Zijinghua had lost its rightful heir.
The empire was grief-stricken and furious, yet investigation showed the assassins belonged to no nation—only a group of rogue mages and mercenaries who had long since severed ties with their homelands.
They had acted simply to obtain dragonblood for forbidden experiments.
After the successful assassination, the survivors immediately activated a high-tier teleportation scroll they'd prepared and escaped Zijinghua.
The old emperor—already clinging to his final breath—died with hatred in his heart. Thus, the Empress's father—Linen's grandfather—was forced to inherit in his older brother's place, becoming Zijinghua's Ninth dragonblood emperor, and the one with the weakest dragonblood concentration.
After ascending, he showed astonishing restraint, refusing to provoke the true culprit by declaring war on other nations.
That decision drew intense domestic criticism. Yet later evidence indicated that when the Ninth Emperor ascended, many border countries had already gathered troops and prepared formations—just waiting for Zijinghua to declare war first, intending to strike hard at a nation that had just lost two crucial leaders and hadn't stabilized through succession.
Because of a momentary greedy impulse from rogue Arcana Mages, the near-invincible Zijinghua weakened for a century—an absurd outcome, but also a small microcosm of history.
The Norton family's dragonblood had always been Zijinghua's greatest treasure. From the Second Emperor onward, they consciously protected it. That was also why Linen immediately fell from favor once his dragonblood concentration was confirmed as zero.
It was like carefully raising a giant panda for over ten years, only to discover it was actually your neighbor's overweight black-and-white dog…
As for the First Emperor's era, he was so overwhelmingly strong that no protective measures had been placed around dragonblood. But when Linen held the fragile, dangerous girl in his arms, he finally understood the wisdom behind the Second Emperor's decision.
The unconscious girl was a genuine, artificially created dragonkin.
A dragonkin forcibly created by "sublimating" a human bloodline—using the First Emperor's blood obtained who-knows-where.
The result was a combined miracle of biology and alchemy.
But that success necessarily came with enormous risk—and oceans of blood.
In the cellar, those twisted, miserable half-human, half-dragon corpses were only the tip of the iceberg.
And all of it had been done for the girl in his arms.
Another reason House Morris deserved a painful end.
Linen sighed softly.
If he wasn't mistaken, the small thing in his arms—now rubbing her head against his chest—was the girl who would eventually lead a rebellion against the First Emperor at the end of the Holy Trial. But of course, the fake hadn't defeated the original, being immediately suppressed by the First Emperor's overwhelming "martial virtue."
He'd assumed he'd need force to subdue her too. Yet the one he met seemed different from the girl in Mosiati's Holy Trial.
That girl had been cold, cruel, and cunning—like a monster that had lived decades.
But the girl Linen encountered now was like a newborn beast—confused, helpless, and instinctively drawn to his bloodline.
It was just… she wanted a bit too much. Linen shared the First Emperor's body, blessed by the Holy Light Dragon. His physique was monstrous—and yet, his waist still ached.
The one pleasant surprise was that after getting what she wanted from Linen, the girl seemed a bit more rational. She wasn't completely bestial anymore.
In any case, a cold, disdainful smile tugged at Linen's lips.
According to history, only after the head of House Morris died—and after that branch became furious at the First Emperor's refusal to execute Lanlost, the "murderer"—did they start researching dragonblood sublimation.
Now the truth felt… ironically fitting.
He waved over a knight and gave an order.
"Search that cellar again. Focus on anything unrelated to the sublimation rite."
Soon, the knight returned.
"Your Majesty, the alchemists completed their scans. Besides the sublimation rite, there is indeed another alchemical array present."
"What array?"
"Consciousness Exchange."
Linen nodded, expression darkening.
Everything… clicked into place.
And he knew exactly how House Morris would meet its end.
...
Back in the banquet hall, an uneasy atmosphere churned.
Normally, whether Sacred Competition or individual trial, the Holy Trial was conducted secretly, witnessed by few.
But this time, it was happening publicly.
Truths buried in history seemed suddenly dragged into the open.
In the Holy Trial space, time moved at an accelerated pace.
What people saw were only "key node" scenes chosen by the Trial.
And tonight, Linen's actions were being recorded and displayed before everyone.
After Linen entered the secret chamber, his viewpoint somehow remained stuck at the cavern entrance. But when Linen reappeared in different clothes, holding a girl clearly bearing a dragonblood aura, minds instantly raced.
Defiling dragonblood. Forbidden human experiments. Human alchemy.
Each was an absolute taboo, deserving capital punishment.
Today, you dare flip through a book on human transmutation; tomorrow, you'll dare synthesize a big brother!
And the first crime was even worse—tantamount to treason!
The Empress's gaze swept through the hall like blades. Those who'd just been friendly with House Morris tacitly stepped back in unison.
Naturally, this was the one time the head of House Morris himself wasn't present.
Left without choice, a House Morris elder stepped forward to speak.
"Your Majesty—"
"No need."
The Empress shook her head, eyes sharp.
"Don't try brushing it off with 'the ancestors sinned; the descendants are innocent.' More importantly—are you certain House Morris's descendants, including the present generation, haven't continued forbidden research?"
Under the Empress's pressure, the elder broke into a cold sweat, unable to force out a single word.
"However, there are always exceptions."
Her Majesty's tone softened slightly.
"According to the Holy Trial's rules, if a subject defeats the sovereign, they may request a pardon. If your House never commits these acts again, the past can be forgiven."
The elder was just starting to relax when the terrifying pressure of an ancient beast's gaze descended upon him, nearly forcing him to his knees.
"But if you don't win, House Morris will face a mandatory investigation. You'd better truly be clean."
With that, the Empress turned away, saying nothing more.
For House Morris, this was like a bolt from the blue.
A mandatory investigation by the Shadow Knights?
Whether House Morris would ever defile dragonblood again was uncertain. But right now, all the shady deals they'd done for profit—following House Sauss's footsteps—were more than enough to annihilate them multiple times over.
While silently cursing Linen's meddling, everyone from House Morris prayed desperately:
Head of House, you must win!
In a corner, Elena and Hysteria had no interest in complicated grudges. Their attention differed completely from everyone else's in the hall.
"Ria… when Linen came out, didn't he change clothes?"
Elena quietly nudged Hysteria.
"Huh? Why would I notice that kind of detail? But now that you mention it… that small fry really did change his shirt. Both white, but the first had a stand-up collar, and this one has ruffled cuffs… It's not like I pay attention to him; I just happened to notice it!"
Hysteria explained, her face turning red.
Why would anyone change clothes just to enter and leave a secret chamber? Elena couldn't figure it out, but a faint uneasiness stirred in her chest.
Hysteria sensed her confusion and offered an explanation.
"There was probably a big fight."
"A… big fight?"
Elena repeated, startled.
"Yeah."
Hysteria nodded, pleased that she finally knew something little Ai didn't!
"I've overheard people at home saying many countries tried dragonblood sublimation experiments, but only the Norton family is special. Only people with high-concentration Norton dragonblood can avoid mutating while keeping their rationality."
"Keeping their rationality?"
Elena's lips parted slightly. She looked at the girl sleeping in Linen's arms, considering a possibility.
"That's right."
Hysteria's gaze toward the magic screen turned sympathetic.
"Normal people sublimated into dragonkin either immediately mutate into monstrous half-human half-dragon forms—or, if they don't mutate, they still become crazed, mindless killers. Look at the girl in that jerk's arms—her arm has scale marks. She probably survived the sublimation without mutating, but holding a rational conversation? Basically impossible."
"So that jerk probably had to subdue her in a fierce battle."
"I see…"
Elena nodded thoughtfully. No wonder Linen's waist had seemed slightly bent—he must've been injured in that fight.
Worry crept into her voice.
"Then I can only hope Linen is alright… and that he can heal that girl."
...
The Holy Trial resumed fast-forwarding. Linen continued tying up the Houses' attention away from the capital with external wars. Yet as time passed, enemy forces steadily grew stronger—going from balanced battles to pushing Zijinghua back.
The enemies appearing in the Holy Trial were no longer scattered mobs. Instead, they became elite legions rarely seen in reality. Even commanders—previously brainless barbarian chieftains—began employing sophisticated tactics.
An army's lower limit depended on soldiers' average strength, but its upper limit rested entirely on its commander. Capable commanders heavily pressured Zijinghua's expanding armies.
Linen's approach was simple:
You started it first.
Amid thunderous cheers, Emperor Norton personally went on campaign.
But his participation was nothing like people imagined.
His Majesty didn't brilliantly micromanage his armies or lead charges from the front. Each time Linen appeared, it was only briefly before rushing to the next battlefield.
Every time, Emperor Norton—dressed in black armor and a matching black mask—would appear at the front lines, spear the enemy commander's head from eight hundred meters away with a javelin, and vanish again.
Without their commanders, enemy legions quickly collapsed under Zijinghua's elite forces.
...
Inside the Holy Trial space, the First Emperor was numb.
She'd frantically escalated enemy strength, but the greatest cheat in this world had been fixed from the beginning.
That cheat was herself—blessed by the Holy Light Dragon.
And now, Linen had that power.
Most terrifying was Linen's efficiency. Soldiers even swore that His Majesty could appear on two battlefields simultaneously, claiming he'd given each House head a brocade pouch that could summon him in emergencies.
Their comrades laughed this off as less believable than rumors His Majesty was secretly a woman.
With Linen as their trump card, the Houses accelerated their expansion—after all, who wouldn't want to fight wars you couldn't lose?
During this period, a small incident occurred.
Head of House Morris died in battle—the only House leader killed during Zijinghua's external wars.
The nation mourned deeply. At the funeral, Linen expressed sorrow, praised the man's service, and spoke movingly of their deep bond, bringing tears to listeners.
Yet banquet hall witnesses who'd seen the incident thought differently:
House Morris's head, leading a small detachment rapidly forward, encountered the enemy's main force at the worst possible moment—completely encircled and unable to retreat. Head of House Morris made the same decision as others before him:
Summon Linen.
Zijinghua's expansion had transitioned from separate combat to operations centered on Linen. Head of House Morris had arrogantly advanced precisely because Linen had appeared nearby.
He immediately opened the emergency-summoning brocade pouch.
But instead of summoning Linen, a note fell out:
"Good luck!"
Realizing something was wrong, he urgently had his accompanying Arcana Mage contact Linen. Strangely, Linen accepted the call.
"We're surrounded. Is Your Majesty truly abandoning us?"
Head of House Morris's voice wasn't panicked—just filled with coldness and threat.
"Then because of your choice… you may unleash the most terrifying, destructive vengeance-ghost Zijinghua has ever known."
Linen's reply was straightforward. Without speaking, he simply beckoned someone beside him forward.
A figure in matching black armor bounced over, removed their mask, and kissed Linen with innocent confusion.
When Head of House Morris saw that figure—his own backup body meant for the rebirth ritual—he broke completely, spat blood, and fell from his horse.
Now, House Morris members in the banquet hall went pale—not from seeing their ancestor tricked to death by Linen, but from realizing they might soon join that ancestor themselves.
Linen had resolved every crisis the Holy Trial threw at him, even doubling Zijinghua's territory. There was no way he could lose now.
...
"Finally… we'll see Linen again."
Elena sighed, feeling relieved.
Just when everyone thought the trial was about to end, a voice of "wisdom" emerged—perfectly highlighting the blind spot everyone else missed.
"Wait, shouldn't the instance boss be the little girl that small fry saved? Can he really clear it like this?"
Hysteria's words sparked curiosity among the crowd.
Right—can you clear the trial without defeating the boss?
But if the trial wasn't cleared, there didn't seem to be any enemy left to fight. So what next?
As if in response, the Holy Trial's theme suddenly flashed, replaced by a new caption:
THE SACRED DRAGON'S LATE TWILIGHT
Then again:
THE SACRED DRAGON'S END
And finally, it flashed yet again:
THE SACRED DRAGON'S HOT HOT HOT HOT!!!
Elena stared at her friend, speechless.
Ria—sometimes you're a little dumb… but it's actually pretty cute.
---
T/N: HE ACTUALLY FUCKED MORDRED :sob:
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