Black City.
The conference room.
Bright electric lights cast a soft white glow, illuminating the entire conference room. Silhouetted against the light, four dark shadows stretched long against the wall.
Outside the window, the sounds of explosions and flashes of bright firelight still flickered and echoed.
Proof that the war was not yet over.
But...
...it would not last much longer.
After the miraculous descent of the "light arrows" that swept the mutant beast tide on a massive scale, the current size of the horde had shrunk many times over.
Even though a continuous stream of mutated creatures still threw themselves forward wave after wave,
they no longer possessed the momentum they had at the start.
Given the current scale of the beast tide, holding out until dawn when the horde would naturally disperse was merely a matter of time.
Meanwhile, the mastermind behind all of this—the Queen of the Black Dragon Empire.
She was currently sitting upon the golden throne at the head of the conference room. With one hand resting on the armrest, lazily propping up her face, she placed her other hand on the long conference table, rhythmically tapping her fingers.
It made a tap... tap... tap... sound.
On one side of the long table, Fido stood straight as a board, reporting every single detail of the Empire's development over the past half-century, as well as the movements of the surrounding factions.
Unfortunately, Irene was not particularly interested in this intelligence. Most of what she wanted to know had already been covered when she first woke up.
Hearing it again now was merely to fill in the missing gaps.
Thus, like a student sitting through an English class, Irene's focus naturally drifted elsewhere.
For example...
...the golden throne beneath her.
As a dragon, Irene had noticed the moment she sat upon it.
This so-called golden throne was actually just gold-plated.
Beneath the thin layer of gold leaf on the surface, its inner structure was made of cheap brass, just like the great golden bell of the cathedral.
Irene couldn't help but grumble inwardly, Is there really a need to be this thrifty? If anyone else saw this, they'd think I, Irene, am a penniless dragon.
She really wanted to reprimand her subordinates and yell, “Replace this with a throne made of solid gold! One for everyone!”
But that was just a fleeting thought.
Setting aside the fact that her subordinates were currently running the Empire in an orderly fashion, and that scolding them without reason would make her seem as chaotic and temperamental as a demon from the Abyss,
if she actually had one crafted from solid gold...
...she would probably have to melt down a vast quantity of gold coins.
The mere thought of beautiful, glittering gold coins being melted into liquid gold, losing their exquisite designs, made Irene's draconic heart ache with grief.
It felt as if she couldn't breathe.
Quickly banishing the thought from her mind, Irene focused her gaze once more on the kobold, whose mouth was moving continuously as he reported the intelligence.
Half a century had passed, and both Fido and Gar had changed immensely.
Fido had become far more composed. Judging by his aura, he had already reached the peak of the Silver Rank. He could break through to the Gold Rank at any moment and become a high-tier dragonborn kobold.
Given that he was supplied with resources from the entire Empire, this speed couldn't be considered fast; in fact, it was rather slow.
But it was understandable. After all, before being transformed into a dragonborn, Fido had been nothing more than an ordinary, elderly kobold. Although he was fortunate enough to awaken as a bloodline sorcerer after his transformation, his innate talent wasn't particularly outstanding.
Otherwise, he wouldn't have relied so heavily on physical strength.
As for Gar, though his cowlick still stood tall, his eyes had lost their former luster. His sole remaining organic eye was deeply sunken, surrounded by dark, heavy circles.
Coupled with his white lab coat, he looked like a mad scientist who had jumped straight out of an anime.
As for his strength, it had barely reached the Silver Rank.
However, compared to these changes in temperament and strength, Irene was far more interested in their physical alterations.
Fido's heterochromia was understandable; it seemed to be the result of an eye injury.
But Gar's steampunk-style mechanical eye and prosthetic arm piqued Irene's interest.
Even with Irene's vast knowledge, she couldn't fully comprehend the internal mechanics of these two cybernetic pieces at first glance.
Though not overly complex, they blended magic and technology, crossing right into Irene's blind spot of knowledge.
She was certain that if a scientist from the era of the Human Empire were here, they would not only easily decipher the structure of Gar's mechanical parts but also design an upgraded version on the spot.
To her draconic embarrassment, although Irene had lived through hundreds of thousands of years in sync with her predecessor in her dreams, she had never delved deeply into the detailed development of humanity's technology tree.
As the sword-bearer and executor of judgment chosen by the first manager of the Judgment organization, she—or rather, he—had spent most of the time sleeping in a hibernation pod, waiting for the completion of the God Creation Project and the arrival of Judgment Day.
Each slumber often lasted tens of thousands of years.
Otherwise, with his lifespan, he would never have survived to see the day of judgment arrive.
Let alone judge the gods.
Thus, after staring at Fido and Gar for a brief moment, Irene forced herself to focus, sat up straight, and raised a hand to interrupt Fido's report.
Meeting Fido's puzzled gaze, she spoke up. “I've learned enough about the Empire's current state. Let's stop there for now.”
“More than that, I'm quite curious—how did the two of you end up looking like this?”
Irene lightly tapped the conference table. “Was it caused by the mutant beast tide? Or did the Human Kingdoms break the treaty and launch an attack on us over the years?”
“Or perhaps...”
Irene's voice grew lower, an imperceptible cold glint flashing across her brilliant golden eyes.
“...my mother, that aging, ultimate shut-in dragoness, came to rob us?”
Hearing this, Fido froze. He first turned to look at Gar, who was sitting beside him. An unspoken message seemed to pass between them in the flicker of their eyes.
Then, Fido's gaze suddenly hardened. He looked back at Irene, appearing for all the world like a condemned criminal preparing to march to the execution grounds.
His eyes were filled with a grim resolve that had looked past life and death.
“Your Grace...”
Meeting Irene's curious yet slightly puzzled gaze, Fido swallowed hard, slowly squeezing out a few words from his dry mouth:
“This is exactly what I intended to report next.”
“Do you...”
“...want to know the truth of the world?”
“The truth of the world?” Irene knitted her brows. Her finger stopped tapping the table as a certain thought involuntarily surfaced in her mind.
“Yes, the truth of the world.” Fido's mismatched red and gold eyes stared deeply at Irene, his expression more solemn than ever before. “Knowing this will not only overturn your understanding of the history of the Arlesk Continent...”
“...it may even lead you, and the entire Empire...”
“...to fall eternally into the Abyss!”
Rate on N.U.
