Watching Arthas's emotionless performance, Irene's brow twitched. Through Arthas, she seemed to see her silly brother's deadpan, chuunibyou face.
This made her pinch her forehead slightly. Any slight wariness she had felt toward Daviel instantly vanished.
She could only sigh inwardly, “Perhaps silly dragons really do have silly luck.”
But then, Irene's expression turned serious again as she fell into deep thought.
Daviel had always been a bit silly, but he was obedient enough and had served as her retainer all these years.
But after all, he was a true chromatic dragon—an “invasive alien species.”
As a high-ranking member of the Empire, it would be difficult to ensure that the truth about that period of history could be kept from him forever.
If he ever found out...
At that point, it would probably...
inevitably lead to a clash of arms!
“Sigh...”
Thinking of this, Irene suddenly sighed and lamented, “Internal troubles and external threats.”
The others in the meeting room, seeing their Grace suddenly sigh, first exchanged glances, but they quickly understood. Having held high positions for years, they were no longer as ignorant as they once were.
Thus, they understood very well that the “internal troubles” Irene referred to likely meant His Grace Daviel, while the “external threats” probably referred to the mutated creatures.
Fido opened his mouth, looking as though he wanted to ease his Grace's worries, but before the words could leave his mouth, Irene pulled her legs off the conference table and nimbly leaped down from the golden throne.
Turning her back to them, she walked toward the door of the meeting room.
Seeing this, Arthas silently stepped away from his position and followed Irene. His towering black armor instantly blocked her figure from view.
He looked just like a knight guarding a princess.
“Your Grace.”
Fido also quickly left his seat, taking a few swift steps to catch up alongside Gar. He didn't forget to ask, “What are you planning to do? Do you need me to make arrangements in advance?”
“No need,” Irene said as she grasped the doorknob. Her eyes cast down as surges of the power of faith welled up in response to her will.
At this moment, if a mage with deep knowledge of space magic were present, they would see at a glance that Irene was using the power of faith to forcibly pry open space. Like a woodworm, she was carving out a spatial passage on the once-solid surface of space to teleport to another region.
On the Arlesk Continent, teleportation—a Super-Tier Magic derived from space magic—had never been something common.
Aside from Blink, the short-range teleportation spell that mages loved to use, most teleportation magic had to adhere to two basic principles.
First, it required a sufficient amount of mana.
Second, it required an anchor.
Mana was the most fundamental; without enough of it, even the most flawlessly cast spell could not teleport someone very far.
The anchor, however, was the most crucial element of teleportation magic.
The range of one's vision, the area covered by one's mental power, shared bloodlines, or even precise coordinates could all serve as anchors for teleportation magic.
Although short-range teleportation without an anchor was also dangerous—highly likely to trap someone inside rocks or walls, fusing them with these substances on a spatial level to become so-called “living fossils”—
it was nothing compared to long-distance or even cross-planar teleportation.
Without an anchor, performing a long-distance teleportation could easily result in getting lost in a spatial rift.
At worst... one might be teleported into the lair of some unspeakable, powerful creature living in the cracks of space, to be devoured, toyed with, or even have their soul extracted and tormented night after night!
Right now, Irene was undoubtedly using the power of faith to open a long-distance portal.
Naturally, such a portal did not strictly require a physical door to serve as its medium; it was merely for a sense of ritual.
In reality, even in a vacuum, as long as there was sufficient mana and a deep understanding of space, a portal could still be opened.
And the spatial anchor she was using...
was the one who shared her bloodline...
Daviel!
“Creak—”
As Irene gently turned the doorknob, the meeting room door slowly opened.
However, the scene outside was no longer the usual corridor.
It was...
a swirling, distorted white light.
Standing before the portal, Irene suddenly seemed to remember something. She turned her head slightly, her brilliant golden eyes looking back at the three behind her.
Parting her lips, she uttered a few words.
“Let us go, my dear subordinates.”
“It is time to resolve a few matters.”
Then, turning back, she took a step forward, stepping into the light and gradually vanishing within it.
Following close behind, Arthas stepped into the portal without a moment's hesitation.
Fido and Gar exchanged a glance before quickly following after them...
Once all four had stepped through, the light forming the portal rapidly shrank, quickly condensing into a single point.
And then, it vanished into thin air.
With that, the once-bustling meeting room became completely empty and quiet.
A gust of wind blew in from the window.
Under the gentle breeze, the wooden door creaked softly.
...
“Hurry up! I've been waiting so long that the flowers have already bloomed!”
Under the blazing sun, a deafening, thunderous roar suddenly erupted from the barren wasteland. Dust and sand within a radius of several hundred meters billowed into the air,
like startled birds taking flight.
The source of the sound was a massive beast, at least thirty meters long.
At the moment, it was lying on its side, propping its face up with one claw while holding a few playing cards in the other—cards that looked microscopic compared to its massive size.
Looking thoroughly impatient, the beast's tail—as thick as a battering ram, covered in black scales, and tipped with sharp spikes—began to beat restlessly against the ground, causing the pebbles across the entire area to bounce up and down like they were dancing.
It looked exactly like a husky waiting to be fed by its owner.
“Alright, alright, Daviel. Don't be so impatient. You need to learn some patience,” a gentle, soothing voice drifted over.
Following the voice, one could see a small, exquisite gray stone table placed within the shadow cast by Daviel's colossal body.
A few playing cards with various numbers printed on them were scattered across the table. Sitting on one side of the stone table was a beautiful figure.
Judging by her iconic pointed ears, she was a pure-blooded elf.
Compared to the terrifying beast before her, this elf was incredibly tiny.
Yet, faced with the beast's roar, she showed no panic whatsoever, carrying herself with the poise of a noble lady.
Unhurriedly, she placed a half-knitted green wool hat onto her fair, shapely thighs, partially covering the absolute territory left exposed by her white thigh-high stockings.
Then, she brushed back a strand of silver-white hair from her ear and brushed the dust off her black skirt with the back of her hand.
Only then, as if performing a magic trick, did she use two fingers to draw a few cards from her deep cleavage and casually toss them onto the stone table.
Then, she looked up at Daviel, who was staring at the cards in utter shock, his jaw practically hitting the ground. In a playful tone, she said, “I win again.”
Her golden eyes, reflecting the sunlight, shone with deep affection.
Rate on N.U.
