Chapter 609: The Choice of the People

Chapter 609: The Choice of the People

At the top of the Grand Altar of Isthalia, Cassius sat on a newly built marble throne—sized for his ever-growing form—breathing out a plume of hot white smoke.

"That’s all I have to say. By now, you all should know what you have to do."

Below the throne, the chieftains of ogres, bugbears, tieflings, lizardfolk, wyverns, and more than a hundred leaders of vassal races from across the Empire had gathered.

Even white dragons, chimeras, and other vassals of special rank crowded the edges of the altar, each with a place. There were even a dozen player representatives present.

The Empire’s population now approached ten million, with its internal demographics growing ever more complex, making its administrative apparatus bloated.

Most present were members of the Imperial Senate—each a noble of at least earl rank, true movers of society’s direction. Of course, the only one who could truly decide the Empire’s fate was the Ember Emperor himself.

"Rua! Kill them all, take all their money! Show those damned humans how strong you are, Majesty! Oh, and don’t forget to steal all the frozen meat from their homes!"

Cassius didn’t even need to look up to know whose voice that was.

Sure enough, the white dragon Tinea was waving her tail, holding her head high, shouting excitedly—desperate to fly south for plunder.

The red dragon simply ignored her suggestion, surveying the vassals with a calm gaze.

After a moment’s thought, Dolo—who also served as Imperial Marshal and Minister of War—stepped forward and half-knelt.

"Your Majesty, Miss Tinea’s words may be exaggerated, but not wholly wrong. As you once said, ’Truth exists only within the range of the cannons.’

This action will be the Empire’s first show of force on the Fianso Continent. We must leave them with a ’profound’ impression.

We should crush their armies, hang all the rebels on gallows, turn their cities into smoke-filled ruins, and make these provocateurs feel true—fear!"

Dolo’s report rang out, brimming with confidence and ruthlessness—the sort all present could sense.

Cassius simply glanced at him, neither agreeing nor objecting.

Dragon-blooded monsters—this was the true nature under the Ember Empire’s glittering exterior.

The beasts within them had been suppressed in the Empire’s iron cage for too long, and only war could set them loose—unleashing their brutality and urge to destroy.

But soon, Langpu also stepped forward, speaking smoothly under Dolo’s dark glare: "Master, I believe Duke Dolo is too extreme. His emotions outweigh his reason and would harm the Empire’s interests. He’s not suitable to lead this operation."

"Langpu, you—"

"Duke Dolo, please follow protocol and speak in order."

Before Dolo could retort, Langpu used higher authority to freeze the air around him, silencing him completely.

"Destroying North Aether sounds satisfying, but it’ll only make all of Fianso’s factions hostile, even unite them against us as some ’vast evil empire.’

We should demonstrate Imperial power and secure our foothold in Fianso.

That means using the Empire’s mechanized and magical forces to their full advantage, striking with lightning speed before anyone can react—wiping out all forces entrenched in North Aether.

Then, we’ll take over all their cities, and the other factions will have to grudgingly accept the Empire’s presence."

"But that damned human insulted His Majesty! And the Empire!"

"We can’t just let them off so easily!"

"Right, make them pay! Let them witness the Empire’s iron tide!"

Hobgoblin and bugbear officers waved weapons, shouting—this was the Ember Empire’s current spirit.

To these extreme hawks, even a hint of resistance was the worst insult to the Empire and Emperor Cassius. Any who dared must ’pay dearly.’

In the current high command, doves were extinct—only hawks and slightly less extreme hawks remained. Pacifists like Olivia had long been pushed out of the core of power.

"But that’s not in the Empire’s interest! It only satisfies your mindless urge to destroy!"

"All we care about is the Empire’s interest! His Majesty’s authority is sacred! Any who challenge it—should be crushed!"

"You’re just greedy for profit! You claim to defend His Majesty’s honor, but really you just want to fire more shells and earn more gold! His Majesty said senseless killing brings trouble—he wants an orderly nation, not a beast’s den!"

So, as ever, the two sides began a fierce debate over the southern campaign on the Grand Altar—spittle flying, accusations traded.

Both sides cited Cassius’s words to prove their loyalty, attacking each other for lacking devotion and patriotism—a battle of ’quotes.’

Cassius had no patience for it; a single glance silenced the hall, where only moments before it had been raucous.

All vassals looked up, a hundred gazes fixed on the red dragon’s huge form.

Cassius gazed down at them, his voice calm: "Three days. I want the Empire fully mobilized for war within three days."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

Ogres, hobgoblins, humans, tieflings, even the largest monsters and dragonkin, all half-knelt and bowed low in unison.

In the Ember Empire, every imperial decree was something to be studied, dissected, and imitated. There were even bestsellers called ’The Emperor’s Maxims.’

Three days: that was Cassius’s deadline.

For any normal major nation, readying for war in three days would be impossible. But the Ember Empire was different.

Entering a war footing was as simple as pressing a button—because, in truth, the Empire had never truly known peace.

The munitions factories never ceased, churning out weapons and ammunition, and the army was always training—ready to be shipped south on crisscrossing railways.

The Empire was a vast machine, built for war by Cassius and his elite, with every citizen an involuntary cog.

Now, with the Emperor’s command, the terrible machine would soon rumble to life, belching smoke onto the vast Fianso Continent.

By now, Isthalia City was already boiling over. Even hundreds of meters in the air, one could hear the crowd’s fevered cheers, and the impassioned, soaring anthem ’Ode to Cassius.’

On the altar’s steps, Olivia—dressed in a neat black gown and carrying a stack of documents—hurried upward toward the imperial summit.

But armed tiefling guards quickly blocked her with crossed spears.

"Sorry, Lady Olivia. His Majesty is in a private meeting with Lord Langpu. We can’t let you through without an imperial command."

"But...I have important business with His Majesty!" Olivia’s expression was urgent, her silver hair a bit disheveled.

Ignoring the guards, she called out, "Your Majesty Cassius—!"

"Let her in."

The familiar voice came from the altar’s top. The tiefling guards obeyed at once, lowering their spears to let the silver-haired girl through.

Olivia strode forward—only to see a red dragon even larger and more unfamiliar than in her memory, coiled atop the altar like a living statue from a temple.

For some reason, the silver dragon felt Cassius was farther away than ever—not the dragon she could once talk to, but a mythic being on a pedestal.

They might exist in the same world, but now seemed to live on different planes—parallel, close but out of reach.

All the words Olivia had rehearsed clogged in her throat.

Biting her lip, she finally gathered the courage to speak: "Your Majesty Cassius, you lied to me again."

"You once promised—the Ember Empire would only sell weapons, bring people a better life, never invade others, never start wars. I believed you then. I joined the Imperial Council, running everywhere for the people’s welfare, hoping for a better, more orderly Empire."

Olivia stubbornly looked up, tears shining in her eyes, her voice choked with sobs.

"You lied to me again. You said there would be no war, but I saw the declaration myself—a declaration of invasion!"

Cassius smiled calmly. "Olivia, the Ember Empire has always sought peace."

Olivia snapped: "Peace? Your soldiers are massing on those railways, terrifying weapons are being sent south—you’re about to unleash disaster on North Aether!"

"Disaster? I don’t think I bring disaster. I bring peace to Fianso."

Cassius rose, stretching and shaking his head—his manner easy, betraying none of the gravity of looming war.

"Olivia, do you know? The Three Emperor War has lasted three years, still raging.

Imperial statistics say at least 8.5 million have died, countless more made homeless—all for the greed of three kings.

I’m tired of endless war on this land. I want to bring true peace and order to the millions who live here."

Olivia bitingly retorted: "And your way to peace is through invasion?"

To her shock, Cassius nodded. "War is the only way to peace—it’s a means, not an end. After the three kingdoms fall, the Empire will bring real order to Fianso—at least a century of peace. Just like Holy Fadlan did long ago."

"You—you want to destroy all three kingdoms?"

The red dragon declared, "Of course. They’re the source of all war. These so-called god-blooded heirs, fighting for the old emperor’s legacy, have caused countless tragedies in Fianso."

Cassius’s voice rang out, firm and righteous, as if he were the just one, not the invader.

Olivia shook with anger. "That—that’s sophistry! I’m sick of your pretty words.

Stop decorating your ambitions with rhetoric—you’re after your own gain! This is naked aggression!

You’re sacrificing your people, trading their lives for profit!" The silver dragon’s emotions finally burst forth.

As a good-hearted creature, she couldn’t abide a war of conquest—especially as a part of the invading side. No metal dragon could.

"Selfish ambition?"

The red dragon only grinned, confidently shaking his head and breathing out a plume of sulphurous smoke.

"No, you’re wrong, Olivia."

Suddenly, he reached out and seized the silver dragon—now in human form—in his claws. Then, spreading his immense wings, he leapt from the altar’s peak, whipping up a gale.

"Cassius, what are you doing?!"

Olivia cried out, forgetting all titles in her panic. As a young silver dragon, she was powerless against the red dragon now.

Cassius said, "I just want you to see something."

"See what?"

From high above, Olivia looked down. Isthalia was bustling—giant smokestacks belched smoke, iron monsters rumbled everywhere.

On streets, in squares, even outside the city, crowds milled everywhere—commoners in rough clothes, guards in armor, nobles in robes.

"Crush those damned southerners! Destroy their armies!"

"Long live Emperor Cassius! Conquer! Conquer! Conquer!"

"For the Ember Empire’s grand plan!"

No matter their station, the people were wild with excitement, waving Imperial banners and shouting raucous, jingoistic slogans.

Even the children were in the streets, selling papers, singing catchy war songs.

"This is..."

Seeing all those varied yet similar faces, Olivia felt a strange mix of irony and self-doubt.

Was she truly speaking for the people? Or just for her own moral satisfaction?

Was she, in fact, the one blocking the tide of history for selfish reasons?

Cassius beat his wings, smiling as he softly told the girl in his claws, "What I want you to understand is—this war was not born of my ambition alone, but rather...

the choice of the people."