harleyscars Page 207
Page 207
"It was an era older than the Age of Thunder, where gods roamed the earth, crowned by the stars. I, as the embodiment of justice and protection for the dragons, stood shoulder to shoulder with other benevolent deities, fighting against the endless evil from the abyss and the lower planes. However, the existence of light inevitably illuminates the deepest darkness. My sister Tiamat, in her heart, gnawed the poisonous vines of jealousy and greed. She craved to monopolize the dragons' faith, to turn all dragons into slaves under her tyrannical rule. Her evil thoughts attracted the covetous eyes of the lords of the Nine Hells."
Bahamut's voice was filled with sorrow, as if the ancient betrayal was still yesterday.
"Asmodeus, the lord of hell, promised her unparalleled power and the rule of Aphronus. In exchange, she would sell her bloodline and the honor of the dragon race. On a fateful twilight, she allied with several demon lords and set a trap for me, a trap set on the entire plane of existence. Under the guise of saving a world on the verge of destruction, they lured me into this prison constructed of divine power. By the time I realized it was a deception, it was too late. I fought them for seven days and seven nights, stars fell, and the plane trembled. But I was ultimately outnumbered and imprisoned here by their most vicious pact and divine shackles, where I have remained for tens of thousands of years."
"For tens of thousands of years, my will has never yielded. I have witnessed the transformation of Faerûn, the end of the Age of Dragons, and the agonizing choices your ancestors made under the torment of dragon madness. My heart bleeds, yet I am powerless. My only hope is you, my children. The kindness and justice passed down in your hearts, your steadfast adherence to the Ptalian Code, are like a glimmer of light piercing through this endless darkness, sustaining my existence and allowing me to see hope in this eternal solitude. And now, the time has come! The faith of the good dragons of Faerûn has regrouped, crashing against these ancient shackles like a torrent. I am about to break free, but my own strength is insufficient. I need you, I need you to use the noblest justice and courage in your blood to help me shatter these final bonds and bring the purest kindness and justice from the multiverse back to Faerûn!"
The story was flawlessly crafted, filled with epic grandeur and tragedy, enough to move any dragon unaware of the truth. The metal dragons listened with fervor, especially the silver dragons of the Claws of Justice, who were filled with righteous indignation at Tiamat's despicable actions and deep sympathy for Bahamut's plight.
Tamarand was the first to step forward, kneeling on one knee in his majestic human warrior form, his voice booming like a bell: "Supreme and honored Platinum Dragon God, your suffering is our suffering, your enemies are our enemies. The Golden Dragon Clan is willing to break your shackles and restore the light of justice!"
Azak followed closely behind, his silver-haired elven warrior form also kneeling, his tone resolute: "The Claws of Justice were born to protect the good and fight to uphold justice. To serve you is our highest honor!"
Hevilan stood silently, her long silver hair flowing in the faint starlight. Her heart was undergoing a violent upheaval. The Ptarian Code was the guiding principle of her life, the cornerstone of the claws of justice. The code was cold, hard text, a supreme ideal, demanding that believers interpret justice through their own actions, not blindly follow the will of any deity. Yet now, a living deity, representing the core spirit of the code, stood before her. His suffering, His call, filled her with an unprecedented sense of urgency. It was a justice that transcended the code's words, a living, breathing justice. She slowly closed her eyes, and when she opened them again, the last trace of hesitation had vanished.
"The Ptallian Code teaches us that justice is not an empty concept, but a reality that needs to be defended with action." Hevilan's voice was clear and firm as she knelt on one knee as well. "Today, we follow you, great Bahamut. You are the living code; wherever you point, our blades will follow!"
Her oath signified that the entire Claw of Justice had completely relinquished its obsession with the Codex and entrusted its faith entirely to this Platinum Dragon God.
The bronze dragons' reaction was more direct. Uriel, in his half-elf ranger form, scratched his head and said loudly, "It sounds complicated, but simply put, we're asked to help a good dragon who's been imprisoned, right? As long as it's for the sake of justice, we bronze dragons never refuse. Count us in!" His words drew unanimous agreement from the other bronze dragons. For them, who they believed in wasn't important; what mattered was whether their actions aligned with their sense of justice.
Casalos, however, inwardly scoffed at this. The story Bahamut told as the dragon god could easily deceive any dragon, and might even be written into "official history" and passed down through generations. But in his God-like perspective, the story was riddled with inconsistencies and flaws.
First, when Bahamut and Tiamat initiated the War of the Dragonfall, neither had yet been deified. It was this war, which engulfed the entire dragon race, that allowed them to gain sufficient faith and ascend to godhood. The War of the Dragonfall occurred during the Age of Thunder, and is unrelated to the earlier era of the War of the Gods. Second, Tiamat was deified after her atrocities, when she was executed by a coalition of gods and cast into the Nine Hells. Subsequently, as a fallen deity, she made a pact with Asmodeus, the lord of the Nine Hells, becoming his demonic archduke. By then, Bahamut had already been imprisoned. The lord of the Nine Hells granted Tiamat the title of lord of Aphrodite, recognizing her war potential as a dragon mother and hoping she would contribute to the blood war. Unfortunately, during her reign over Aphrodite, Tiamat had no interest in the blood war; instead, she abused her power, embezzling resources allocated from the Nine Hells for the war and using them to resurrect her own offspring. Therefore, she was quickly stripped of her lordship by the Lord of Hell, who only allowed her divine kingdom to remain anchored in Aphrodite. The various lords of the Nine Hells each had their own agendas, but none of them liked Tiamat and would never join forces with her to fight Bahamut.
Of course, Casalos would never reveal any of his grievances at this moment.
The real reason Bahamut summoned the metal dragon here is quite different from the story he fabricated, and its roots can even be traced back to Casalos.
Although the metal dragons were powerful, they were still mortals at the level of gods, and could not possibly destroy the cage constructed of divine power, even though that cage had long been eroded by time. What Bahamut truly needed was not their physical or magical attacks, but their "acknowledgment".
The silver dragon phantom hovering in the air, named Shimo, is a weak divine "empty facet" jointly created by the former Golden Dragon Royal Court and the current Claw of Justice, due to their shared reverence for the Ptallian Code. This facet lacks an independent consciousness; it is merely a divine embodiment of the Code's principles. During his tens of thousands of years of imprisonment, Bahamut, through tireless effort, has established a complete connection with this empty facet. It can be said that Shimo is now a facet of Bahamut.
However, this integration is only one step away from completion, and it is also the most crucial step.
Once the followers of Shimo—that is, the gold and silver dragons—are guided and acknowledge the fact that Shimo and Bahamut are one, this empty facet will be completely integrated with Bahamut, becoming part of Bahamut's divinity, or in other words, making Bahamut part of Shimo; there is no essential difference between the two.
What the metal dragons didn't know was that Shimo himself was the "energy source," "shackles," and "guardian" that constituted this cage of divine power. The only way for Bahamut to break free of the cage was to completely devour it.
In the original timeline, Bahamut, through Sammaster, annihilated the Claws of Justice, who still strictly adhered to the Ptahlian Code. Subsequently, his chosen one, Tamaland, rewrote the Ptahlian Code, utilizing the new divine power rules promulgated by AO after the turmoil to significantly weaken the power of the Shimo Face, ultimately enabling his escape—this is the bloody and cruel truth behind the final Dragon Frenzy unleashed by Sammaster. Sammaster's secret technique for transforming into a dragon lich originated from Bahamut; Sammaster's knowledge of the location of the Dragon Frenzy Lock was also guided by Bahamut; and Sammaster's ability to modify his phylactery and the Dragon Frenzy Lock, making them vessels for the source of Dragon Frenzy, was also due to Bahamut's guidance!
In the original timeline, the slumber of the metal dragon and the eventual awakening of the Claw of Justice from its slumber, which led to its haphazard and chaotic demise as it charged into the Arctic bunker with Kara and Dorn's team, were all part of Bahamut's script!
Bahamut's actions were so secretive that even the gods were deceived—perhaps they knew, but so what? Bahamut's plan perfectly aligned with the interests of the Pan-Faerûnian gods, while the will of mortals, their perceptions of so-called good and justice, were utterly meaningless to the gods. They hadn't yet fully adapted to the new rules of AO!
Now, under Casalos's guidance, the Claw of Justice not only survived but even developed a foundation of faith in Bahamut. This provides Bahamut with a choice that maximizes its benefits. Compared to weakening Shimo before forcibly absorbing it, directly fusing with the complete Shimo undoubtedly yields far greater power. Furthermore, Bahamut gains an additional group of powerful and incredibly devout metal dragon followers.
For this reason alone, Bahamut must grant Casalos the status of a voter in return, even if Casalos does not believe in Him at all. This is an unspoken deal between Bahamut and Casalos, based on absolute interests.
87. An ending is also a beginning.
Inside the intricate interior of the polar fortress, time did not stand still despite the intervention of the gods.
For Gaelos Dragon Nightmare and his paladin order, as well as the Dawn Lord's guardian army, the powerful dragon allies who were advancing alongside them just a moment ago vanished without a trace in the platinum-gold holy light, leaving only a three-dimensional tunnel temporarily silent due to the aftershocks of divine power.
This sudden turn of events instantly plunged the steadily advancing ground forces into a predicament. They were located in the middle layer of the fortress, a vast space known as the "Windwhistling Corridor," comprised of massive suspended platforms and vertical cliffs. Without the dragons' aerial suppression and rapid assault capabilities, it was nothing short of a pipe dream for these heavily armored units to continue advancing through this fortress, designed specifically for flying creatures.
"All troops halt! Retract into formation and defend in place!"
Gaelos Dragonstalker's order was timely and decisive. This legendary paladin of Damara did not lose his composure despite the sudden disappearance of his ally. He knew very well that venturing deeper before the situation was clear would only be a futile sacrifice. The remaining Dragon Cult wizards and dragon liches lurked in the more complex passages above, watching intently. Their only option was to find a strategically advantageous, easily defensible location in this relatively open area and switch to full-scale defense.
The paladins of Damara and the Dawn Lord's Guard mobilized swiftly. Using the largest suspended platform as their core, they tightened their defensive line, linking shields tightly together to form an impregnable ring. The paladins fired anchor cables into the upper rock walls, constructing a temporary vertical defense to prevent enemy attacks from above. Meanwhile, the Dawn Lord's priests began chanting prayers, and layer upon layer of divine protection rose from the platform, transforming the area into a sanctuary where the undead and evil could not easily tread.
Just as the defensive position was being initially completed, several portals lit up in the center of the position. Elminster, Elasdra, Kelburn, and others emerged from them, their expressions solemn, clearly also puzzled by the disappearance of the dragons.
“Looks like we’ll have to wait here for a while.” Elminster, with his perpetually unlit pipe dangling from his lips, glanced down at the bottomless abyss of darkness below the platform. “Samasser is done, but his ‘legacy’ is far more troublesome than he himself.”
His arrival instilled a powerful sense of confidence in the isolated ground forces. Legendary spellcasters quickly joined in building the defenses. Kelburn used his black staff to summon several solid force field walls along the platform's edge, completely sealing off several key entrances. Elasdra, meanwhile, wove intricate illusions, disguising the entire platform as an ordinary, collapsed rock formation, virtually undetectable from the outside.
This standoff dragged on for several days.
The remnants of the Dragon Cult did not give up easily; they launched several probing attacks from the depths of the fortress. Wraiths, driven by necromancy, emerged from the rock walls, emitting silent shrieks; a few surviving dragon liches swooped down from the sky, spewing blasphemous energy. But beneath the formidable defenses erected by paladins, the Guardians, and legendary spellcasters, these attacks were like stones sinking into the sea, failing to budge the position in the slightest.
However, the stalemate in the battle has caused another kind of worry to spread among the top ranks of the coalition forces.
Elminster emerged from behind a force field wall, took off his pipe, and tapped the bowl lightly with his knuckles to knock out non-existent ash. He turned to Gaelos and lowered his voice: "Shadow Valley... I'm afraid they can't hold out any longer."
Elminster's home, the Shadow Valley nestled in the valley, is home to simple, honest people, but this also means a lack of organized military force capable of combating the dragon scourge. A dragon rampage there would be tantamount to doom.
Gaelos frowned, equally worried: "The situation in Damara isn't much better. Our main forces are all here, and the domestic defenses are at their weakest. Those crazed white dragons and chromatic dragons... our land and people are suffering."
The brief exchange between these two legendary figures revealed the burning reality of the entire continent of Faerûn. Their homeland, unlike Deepwater or Silvermoon City, lacked the formidable defenses forged by Casalos in advance to withstand natural disasters. Their anxieties were real and profound.
Just then, that familiar yet strange sacred aura that had disappeared for several days returned.
The platinum-gold radiance dissipated in the "Wind Whisper Corridor," projecting the figures of Casalos and the metal dragons back onto this vast space composed of suspended platforms and vertical cliffs.
"It's them!" a sharp-eyed paladin cried out in a suppressed voice.
Upon seeing those familiar figures, a commotion, a mixture of joy and confusion, erupted across the entire position. However, when the dragons revealed their new forms, the commotion quickly subsided, replaced by an almost awe-inspiring silence.
They were no longer simply dragons. Each dragon was clad in a layer of ethereal armor, constructed of divine power and shimmering with platinum-gold light. Their aura had become more composed and powerful, and their scales were imprinted with Bahamut's divine emblem, composed of a milky-white nebula and the North Star. They were no longer merely allies, but messengers of the gods, Bahamut's Platinum Knights.
"Where have you been?" Galos was the first to greet them, his voice filled with urgency and confusion. The past few days of holding out had already exhausted him and his soldiers, both physically and mentally.
The one who answered him was Tamarand. The Golden Dragon Crown Prince transformed into human form, his heavy armor gleaming with a divine platinum light. "We have been summoned, Gaelos Dragon Nightmare. To fulfill a more ancient and more sacred duty."
His voice was steady and powerful, drawing the attention of everyone present.
“Our Lord, Bahamut, the platinum dragon god, after breaking free from tens of thousands of years of imprisonment, needs His children to settle an ancient sin. We followed His divine chariot to the Dragon's Nest in the heavens.”
Hevilan also transformed into the form of a silver-haired elf, her expression solemn, her silver pupils reflecting a scene unimaginable to everyone. "We participated in a divine war. The battlefield was the shared divine kingdom of the dragon gods in the outer realm, and our opponents were the banished, the five-colored dragon queen Tiamat, the evil remnants entrenched in the dragon's nest."
Her voice was cold and clear, carrying an undisguised weariness and sorrow, revealing to everyone a war that mortals could not even imagine.
Tiamat's divine realm is a dark domain scorched by sulfur and fire, composed of five colossal obsidian towers symbolizing her five heads. Countless supplicants loyal to her—the souls of evil dragons who perished on the continent of Faerûn—swarm forth from the towers as roaring shadows. They are pure aggregates of resentment and hatred, impervious to the swords of the mortal world; only divine power can purify them.
"The celestial legions of Bahamut—those led by the seraphim Assimil, composed of kirin, all kinds of kirin, teleporting hounds, heroic warriors/Enheria, and flying ramen (I don't even know what that is...) angels—formed the main force of the war. But Tiamat's evil dragon legions were vast in number and fearless in the face of death. Our lord needed a force capable of tearing through the enemy's defenses, and we, the metal dragons from Faerûn, became that blade."
"It was a brutal battle." Hevilan paused, looking around at her returning comrades, each face bearing scars and unwavering resolve. "The laws of the divine realm are entirely different from those of the material world. Every battle is accompanied by a clash of wills. The instigators of Tiamat attempted to corrupt our souls with their endless resentment, dragging us into that eternal darkness. A young bronze dragon, to cover his companions, was engulfed by dozens of shadowy red dragons; his lightning, before extinguishing, purified an enemy a hundred times his size. And an aged brass dragon, he shielded us from a curse originating from the core of the temple with his own body, buying us a precious respite, while he himself turned into dust."
"At the heart of the battle is a demigod's face formed from the remains of the ancient magical dragon god Azharul. It has no consciousness; it is merely a magical construct whose divinity has been twisted by Tiamat, knowing only how to kill. It sits atop the central temple, spewing out pure magic power capable of annihilating all things with every breath. We must destroy it to completely expel Tiamat's evil from the dragon god's divine realm."
“We paid a heavy price.” Hevilan’s gaze swept over the surviving dragons. “Nearly two-fifths of the dragons that went to the Kingdom of God remained there forever. Their souls were received by our Lord and became eternal supplicants in His Kingdom, continuing to fight for justice.”
The news silenced everyone present. Nearly two-fifths of the casualties—a staggering number. This meant that dozens of powerful dragons had perished in this war unimaginable to mortals.
However, although the returning dragons were almost all wounded and covered in scars from the divine war, their spirits were exceptionally high. Bahamut's divine blessing healed their wounds, and more importantly, infused them with unprecedented faith and power. This power allowed them to completely disregard the dragon madness that was still raging throughout Faerûn.
“Our Lord’s blessing protects us,” Azak added, the ancient silver dragon now appearing exceptionally solemn. “The madness of the dragons can no longer sway our will. We have returned for only one purpose: to end this catastrophe started by Samaster, and then, to begin a new war.”
"A new war?" Elminster frowned; he sensed a fundamental change emanating from these dragons.
“Yes, a war that began in ancient times was interrupted by the imprisonment of our Lord and the exile of Tiamat.” Tamarand turned to all the allied members present and, as a chosen one of Bahamut, proclaimed the oracle that would change the future of all of Faerûn, “Now, it will begin anew!”
"The War of Dragonfall has begun once again!"
This declaration, like a boulder thrown into a calm lake, stirred up ripples among the paladins and the Guardians. The Dragonfall War, a term that existed only in the oldest texts, was now proclaimed in the form of an oracle.
"Now is not the time to lament the disaster on the continent." Casalos's voice broke the shock of the oracle. He also transformed into a humanoid form, his indigo pupils sweeping over everyone present. "Ending the Dragon Frenzy is the first step, and the most crucial step, to quell this disaster."
He turned to Kelburn: "Samasser's life box is at the heart of the Lock. Your previous location was incorrect."
Kelburn paused for a moment: "Is there a mistake? We've detected that the core is deep within the fortress..."
“That’s just a node where energy converges, the energy core of the Dragon Fury Lock,” Casalos explained. “The real control core is at the highest point of the Arctic Fortress. Because the actual function of the Dragon Fury Lock is not to trigger Dragon Fury, but to adjust the orbit of the source of Dragon Fury—a comet orbiting the Toril Sun, the Kingkiller Star. The cycle of Dragon Fury is the cycle of this comet’s intersection with the planet Toril. The Lock needs to be constantly aligned with the sky in order to exert its true power.”
This explanation brought a look of realization to the faces of the legendary spellcasters present.
"Very good." Casalos said no more. He turned to face the entire army and gave his final instructions.
"All troops, listen up! Target: the highest main tower of the Arctic bunker!"
He looked again at the metal dragons who had already been commissioned by Bahamut.
"Platinum Knights, transform into half-dragon forms! You will be the spearhead of the charge, tearing through the last line of defense leading to the core. Destroy everything in your way!"
At the command, the returning dragons immediately began to transform. They abandoned their full dragon forms, which were more easily confined by narrow passages, and instead transformed into smaller, more agile half-dragon forms. The brilliance of gold, silver, and bronze flowed over them, and their sacred platinum armor blended perfectly with their newly grown scales.
"Half-Dragon Legion, you are the reaping claws. Follow closely behind the Platinum Knights, eliminate all threats on the flanks, and ensure that the main force's advance is not disrupted in any way!"
“The Holy Knights, the Guardians, the Harp Masters,” his gaze swept over Gaelos and Elminster, “you are our solid support. You consolidate every position we have captured, purify the evil that remains on this land, and pave the way for our return.”
The orders were clear and concise. The entire coalition forces, like a finely tuned war machine that had been wound up again, began to operate efficiently.
No more hesitation, no more confusion. The divine decree has been delivered, the goal is clear.
Tamarand was the first to unfurl his half-dragon wings. His body, covered in platinum divine armor, shot towards the vertical passage leading to the upper area like a golden meteor.
Hevilan, Azak, Uriel… all the Platinum Knights followed closely behind. They transformed into streaks of light, the brilliance of gold, silver, and bronze intertwining to form an unstoppable torrent, flowing upstream towards the core of the Dragon Madness Lock.
The warriors of the half-dragon legion spread their dragon wings and leaped from the platform. Their sharp claws slashed across the cliff face, following closely in the dragons' wake like stalking death.
Gaelos raised his holy sword high, and arcane sparks flew from Ilmminster's pipe. The ground troops began their advance, their mission to ensure that this final battle would be free from any interference from the rear.
The end of the Dragon Frenzy finally ushered in the Dragonfall War.
1. Temple of the Lord of Justice
One month after the end of the Dragon Madness, a brand new church was established in Damara.
Its name is undisguised—the Church of Bahamut, the Platinum Dragon God. On the day of its founding, the Church issued three divine pronouncements to all intelligent beings on the continent of Faerûn: First, it declared Tiamat, the Queen of the Five-Colored Dragons, and all her followers as the ultimate enemy; second, it defined all remaining forces of the Dragon Worship Cult as blasphemers to be eradicated; and third, it declared war on all evil dragons who chose to ally with Tiamat or the Dragon Worship Cult.
The War of the Dragonfall, a term long forgotten in ancient texts, has been brought up again.
The Church's power structure is clear and efficient. The priests of the Lord of Justice have a strict hierarchy of promotion: white daggers, black battle axes, green scepters, blue spears, red swords, brass round shields, bronze arm guards, bronze chainmail, silver shields, and finally, gold armor. The older priests are addressed as lords or ladies, while the younger ones are servants.
Above this system is Bahamut's supreme representative on the continent of Faerûn, the supreme commander of the Dragonfall War. This is not a position elected by dragons or humanoids, but appointed personally by the gods. His title is "Bahamut's Platinum Crown".
The holder of this title, Casaloz, is even able to directly contact Bahamut's Seraphim Assimil and summon Bahamut's celestial legions to fight!
Tamarand, Crown Prince of the Golden Dragon Court; Hevilan, leader of the Claws of Justice; and Worasega, the Holy Watcher—these three ancient dragons hold supreme positions in their respective races. Their current priestly ranks are all clad in "golden armor," and they served as Casaloz's lieutenants during the war.
A mere teenager, a metallic dragon, leading the oldest and most powerful metallic dragon race on the continent of Faerûn, sparked countless speculations across the land. No one could understand Bahamut's choice. But for the metallic dragons who had personally witnessed the Battle of the Arctic Fortress and the subsequent War of the Gods, this appointment was beyond question. The will of the gods was the highest principle.
The prelude to the Dragonfall War had already begun a month earlier, on the ruins of the Arctic Fortress.
Samasser perished, and the phylactery containing the source of the dragon's madness was completely purified by the divine power of the Platinum Knights, finally calming the madness that had swept across the continent. As the surviving members of the allied forces emerged from the fortress and basked in the long-awaited normal sunlight of Faerûn, three enormous figures remained.
"Old Roar" Klaus, "Desert Misfortune" Emuris, and "Pure White Dragon" Elvia Tules. These three ancient colored dragons, who served as temporary allies in the final battle, hovered silently not far away, their bodies also bearing the marks of the battle.
Alliances are fragile, built on shared threats. Now that the threat is gone, all that remains in the air is suspicion and the inherent hostility between opposing factions. The metal dragons spontaneously formed a loose formation, their divine power clashing with the ancient, savage aura of the colorful dragons, plunging the recently calmed icy plains into a tense standoff once more.
Casalos knew the moment for the performance had arrived.
Since the War of the Gods, he has been Bahamut's representative in Faerûn, his every word and action representing the will of the new deity. He must regulate his behavior, at least outwardly, to be blameless. This is not based on a belief in goodness, but on the precise calculations of maximizing interests by the neutral faction of order. Chaos and pure evil are both detrimental to his plans for the future of Faerûn. Winning the absolute support of the metal dragons and all the forces of justice on the continent is a necessary prerequisite for implementing these plans.
He flew out from the dragon herd and faced three enormous, colorful dragons all by himself.
“Klaus,” Casalos’s voice echoed across the battlefield in Dragon Language, “the Source of Dragon Fury has been destroyed. Our temporary alliance, forged to combat this common threat, is now over.”
The ancient red dragon let out a deep breath, exhaling two plumes of scorching steam. "Don't talk like we're friends, you iron dragon cub. We're just trying to protect ourselves. That madman Samasser wants to turn all dragons into mindless beasts, and that's not in my interest."
“I understand.” Casalos’s tone was calm, yet carried an undeniable authority. “Based on your contributions in this battle, in the name of the Platinum Dragon God, I grant you and your companions permission to leave safely. Leave the North and return to your lair. But please remember, this is not an absolution, but a respect for the covenant.”
His body leaned slightly forward, his indigo vertical pupils sweeping over the three-headed dragon.
"But I also declare in the name of the Platinum Crown: from this day forward, the Dragonfall War resumes. Bahamut's will will purify all followers of the Five-Colored Dragon Queen and the remnants of the Dragon Worship Cult. Our truce is null and void the moment you leave this icy plain. The next time we meet, we will be enemies."
These words drew nods of approval from the metal dragons present. The humanoid warrior, Tamarand, wore an approving expression. Even against his nemesis, Casalos had demonstrated the fairness and integrity befitting a representative of the Lord of Justice. This act of righteousness earned him far more respect from these ancient golden dragons than a direct attack.
Klaus scoffed at this, turning his massive head and staring intently at Amuris and Elvia Tules with his lava-like gaze.
"You heard me. The game is over." His roar echoed through the ruins. "The metal dragons have their new god, and we can no longer be a disorganized mob! Samass is dead, the Dragon Cult is finished, but that doesn't mean the era of the Colored Dragons is over!"
A blasphemous aura of divine power suddenly erupted from his body, and Tiamat's five-colored dragon head emblem flashed across his forehead.
"The Five-Colored Dragon Queen is returning! She needs a new servant organization, a force far more powerful and purer than the Dragon Worship Cult! And I, 'Old Roar' Klaus, will become the leader of this force!"
He took a step forward, his enormous dragon claw embedding itself deeply into the ice.
"Amuris, Elvia Tullis! Now, make your choice. Will you join me and usher in our own era under the name of Tiamat, or will you remain here and face these Bahamut lackeys alone?"
An unstable crackling sound emanated from the electrical currents emanating from the blue dragon's body. Tiny ice crystals condensed around the pure white dragon. They were caught in a dilemma. They loathed Tiamat, but they were even less likely to side with the metal dragon. Alone against the entire Platinum Knights, their only fate was death.
Klaus noticed their hesitation. He needed a trigger, a trigger that would make them completely side with him.
"Looks like you need a little 'persuasion'." He sneered, feigning an attack on Elvia Tullis, as destructive flames gathered in his massive maw.
But just before the flames were about to erupt, he suddenly turned his head and shot his breath into the empty sky, as if venting his pent-up anger.
"Under the name of the Mother of Dragons, pointless infighting will not be tolerated." Klaus's voice became deep and majestic, filled with a divine pressure. "In the name of Tiamat, I command you to follow me! This is your only chance!"
Ultimately, faced with an overwhelming disparity in strength and political pressure, Amuris and Elvia Tules chose to compromise. Reluctantly, they lowered their heads and followed behind Klaus.