Chapter 269: The Frenche Empire (2)

Everyone in the Great War Hall knew exactly who Pablo’s words were directed at: the Emperor himself.

The warriors seated in the hall bristled at Pablo’s casual address toward their sovereign. A chilling aura of murderous intent radiated from them, permeating the chamber.

Grr.

Startled by the sudden surge of killing intent, Nabi, cradled in Lavina’s arms, let out an uneasy cry.

“It’s alright, Nabi. Calm down, calm down,” Lavina soothed, gently stroking the dragonet’s head.

Meanwhile, the Emperor fixed his gaze on Pablo and spoke. “Are you the one who calls himself Great King Pablo?”

Pablo responded with a wry smile. “Heh… After all this time, returning home only to receive such a cold welcome.”

The Emperor’s gaze sharpened at Pablo’s quiet murmur.

“Do you know what the name ‘Emperor of Conquest’ signifies in Frenche?”

“How would I?” Pablo replied with a shrug.

“The hero who suppressed the Premier’s rebellion and, with Frenche’s then-meager power, subjugated countless nations. The great conqueror who upheld the pride of his citizens in that era.”

Pablo remained silent.

“He was also the sovereign who laid the foundation for the current Frenche Empire.”

“Ha ha! Such lavish praise to my face is enough to make even my thick skin burn with embarrassment,” Pablo said with a self-deprecating chuckle.

The Emperor’s expression grew even colder.

“Great King Pablo, the architect of the Empire’s foundations, vanished without a trace one day. That was over 170 years ago.”

“That’s right.”

“But now, someone has appeared claiming to be Great King Pablo?”

The Emperor clearly doubted Pablo’s claim. Yet, he had summoned him to this Great War for one reason:

“Bring me that man’s White Dragon Ring.”

The legendary ring left behind by Great King Pablo, said to react only to the blood of the Imperial Family.

At the Emperor’s command, the Danjang of the Imperial Guard approached Pablo.

“Hand over the White Dragon Ring.”

Though the demand was forceful, Pablo readily surrendered his ring.

The Danjang took the ring to the Emperor, and soon another Guard approached, carrying a box about 20 centimeters square.

Click.

The box opened, revealing the White Dragon Ring inside.

Only then did Pablo understand the Emperor’s intent.

He wants to exchange our rings to verify their authenticity.

Pablo saw no harm in confirming it.

As expected, the White Dragon Ring confiscated from Pablo was presented to the Emperor.

“Hmm…”

The Emperor took the ring and let out a low groan.

They’re identical.

The ring he had stored and the confiscated one were virtually indistinguishable.

Could this truly be a White Dragon Ring?

Of course, it was too early to jump to conclusions. The outcome of the test would reveal the truth.

“Apply blood to it.”

At the Emperor’s command, a warrior pricked the tip of his finger with a dagger and smeared the blood onto the White Dragon Ring.

The White Dragon Ring absorbed the blood, but showed no visible change.

The Emperor, who had been silently observing, drew his dagger.

Slice.

He pricked his finger.

Soon, Pablo’s White Dragon Ring absorbed the Emperor’s blood.

Pop!

A brilliant light erupted, and a small, white dragon sprang forth, circling the Emperor.

Those watching gaped in astonishment.

“Heh…”

”…It’s real.”

The ring had only reacted to the Emperor’s blood.

Given the situation, all eyes now turned to the White Dragon Ring in Pablo’s hand.

Under the intense gazes, Pablo unhesitatingly smeared his own blood on the ring.

Then—

Poof!

Just as before with the Emperor’s ring, the White Dragon of Zaan emerged from Pablo’s White Dragon Ring and began circling him.

The Emperor and Pablo stood facing each other, each with a White Dragon hovering behind them.

Pablo spoke first.

“Do you believe me now?”

”…”

The Emperor remained silent.

Instead, an elderly noble standing beside him spoke up.

“Your Majesty, he might be a descendant of Great King Pablo.”

The faces of most of the assembled nobles seemed to agree with this suggestion.

The White Dragon Ring Pablo had brought with him was also confirmed to be genuine.

However, it was unheard of for a human to live for over three hundred years.

Therefore, the focus shifted to the possibility that the man who claimed to be Great King Pablo was merely a descendant of the legendary ruler.

Pablo frowned at their reaction.

“This is truly frustrating. Even when I tell you the truth, you refuse to believe me…”

He began to ponder how to convince them of his claim.

Just then…

“Hey, move aside.”

A pale hand reached out from behind Pablo and yanked him sharply by the shoulder.

Pablo was startled. Who would dare grab his shoulder like that?

“L-Lord Louis?”

“We’ll be here all night if we keep trying to talk sense into them. I’ll handle this.”

Louis’s confident tone sent a chill down Pablo’s spine, making him recoil in horror.

“N-no! You can’t!”

“What’s wrong?”

“You can’t just resort to violence to solve every problem!”

Pablo vividly remembered what had happened to the Dominant Empire, once the undisputed ruler of the Eastern Winter Continent, after they crossed paths with Louis. There’s no guarantee the Frenche Empire won’t suffer the same fate! Louis was the kind of man who would beat anyone who displeased him first and ask questions later. That was the Louis Pablo knew.

Louis stared coldly at Pablo, who stood with arms outstretched, trying to block his path. Then, with brutal simplicity, he struck.

Whack!

Louis had just kicked Pablo squarely in the shin.

“Ouch!”

“Does this bastard think he can get away with this?”

“Again… he hit me again…”

Pablo clutched his shin and rolled around on the floor. The imposing figure he had projected moments earlier had vanished, replaced by his usual, clownish self the instant Louis entered the picture.

Meanwhile, the officials from the Frenche Empire watching this farce were utterly dumbfounded. They grew increasingly convinced:

This can’t possibly be Great King Pablo.

Absolutely not.

The historical accounts depicted Pablo as the epitome of a hero. They couldn’t believe that the legendary Emperor of Conquest could be such a frivolous character.

As they pondered this, Louis strode past Pablo and continued on his way.

He stared intently at the Emperor.

He definitely doesn’t look like a dwarf.

Although Pablo had become exceptionally tall through extraordinary circumstances, his true essence remained that of a dwarf. Therefore, if his descendants had inherited a strong strain of his blood, none of them could have reached such towering heights.

And his features are entirely human.

There wasn’t a trace of typical dwarven characteristics. This meant the dwarven blood in him had become exceedingly diluted.

This won’t do. Absolutely not.

Frenche might have been a small kingdom in the past, but now it had grown into a vast empire that had swallowed the entire Summer Continent.

At this level… they’re an immediate strategic asset.

Perhaps the Frenche Empire was the strongest trump card one could acquire on the Summer Continent.

“Very well…”

I’ll need to stick in a straw that can suck everything dry.

A smile spread across Louis’s lips.

At that moment, the Imperial Guards, seeing Louis approach the Emperor, drew their swords and surrounded their sovereign. Among them were warriors of at least Tier 3, with occasional Tier 2 fighters.

And then…

Ho? A Tier 1?

Louis sensed the presence of hidden powerhouses lurking near the Emperor.

Of course, such defenses couldn’t halt his advance.

Thud.

As Louis took another step, mystics concealed throughout the Great War Hall emerged simultaneously, aiming their Mana Sticks at him.

Instantly, a sinister atmosphere enveloped the entire hall.

Yet, defying the tense atmosphere, Louis smiled brightly.

His eyes curved into crescent moons, their violet irises fixed on the Emperor, who was shielded by his warriors.

Staring directly at the Emperor behind his wall of guards, Louis murmured playfully, “Want to see something fun?”

His tone was light, but what followed was no laughing matter.

*Tsu tsu tsu-. *

The Imperial Palace, once a magnificent structure of pristine white marble, began to crumble into fine white sand.

And it wasn’t just the palace. Everything within its walls transformed into sand:

The Imperial Guards, sworn to protect the Emperor.

The Emperor’s elite warriors, hidden in the shadows.

The court mystics, nurtured with lavish resources.

Even the nobles who had gathered to observe the situation were transformed into sand.

Everything, from the smallest grain to the largest structure, had crumbled into fine white sand.

Except for the Emperor.

”…?!”

Stunned beyond words, the Emperor froze in place.

“W-what is this?!”

In an instant, the Imperial Palace had collapsed, leaving the Emperor standing alone on an endless expanse of pristine white sand.

He glanced around, muttering as if entranced, “An illusion…?”

No sooner had the Emperor whispered these words than a voice echoed through the air.

“An illusion? How disappointing to compare this to something as trivial as an illusion.”

Before the sentence could finish, the white sand surrounding the Emperor surged upward.

Defying gravity, the white sand surged upward and swiftly coalesced into the form of Louis.

The Emperor gritted his teeth at the sight. ”…What have you done?”

“I told you I’d show you something interesting.”

“Interesting? You call this pathetic illusion interesting?”

“It’s not an illusion.”

“Whatever it is, you’ve made a foolish mistake. Soon, the full might of the Imperial Court’s military forces will be mobilized against you.”

“Feel free to try. They won’t be able to enter this Imaginary Space.”

Louis’s smile deepened.

“Imaginary Space?”

“Simply put, you could call it a pocket dimension.”

“Nonsense! How could a living being possibly enter a pocket dimension?!”

“Exactly! I didn’t think it was possible either, but when I tried, it worked.”

Louis had been researching how to harness the power of Zero’s Domain. His latest breakthrough was the discovery of Imaginary Space.

Imaginary Space was a phantom realm, the opposite of the real space where tangible matter resided. It existed yet was non-existent, a realm of illusion where even time itself stood still.

Since its discovery, the only known application of Imaginary Space had been as a pocket dimension. It was ideal for storing objects, a perfect vault impervious to theft, but incapable of sustaining life.

But what if living beings could be confined here?

If that were possible, it would become the ultimate prison, a nightmarish hell for its unfortunate occupants.

Sensing something amiss, the Emperor glared fiercely at Louis, his eyes sharp and piercing. “You… what is it you truly want?”

“Hmm? Ah, don’t worry. I don’t want your life.”

“You speak of Ivan Kuan Frenche’s neck as if it were yours to take.”

“Taking something like that would be child’s play. I could easily claim your life any day, not just today.”

”…”

“The only reason I haven’t… is because you’re a descendant of Pablo and Page.”

As he spoke, Louis floated into the air.

“You asked what I want from you? What I want… is for you to face the truth.”

“The truth? What truth are you talking about?”

“Everything you’re about to witness.”

”…”

The Emperor gritted his teeth.

“Just what… are you?”

“My true nature? I’ll show you.”

The moment Louis finished speaking, light erupted from his entire body, like the sun rising above a pristine white sand beach. The blinding radiance tormented the Emperor’s eyes.

“Ugh!”

He hastily raised a hand to shield his vision.

”…”

As the light gradually subsided, a pure white dragon materialized in its place.

”…?!”

A snow-white dragon with violet eyes. Louis’s true form filled the Emperor’s pupils completely.

Louis had spoken casually, but the repercussions were far-reaching.

An overwhelming force surged in like a storm, causing a stinging pain on the Emperor’s skin.

Tch.

Then, with a grotesque sound, blood splattered near the Emperor’s jester. A mere ripple of energy from Louis had scratched his face.

”…Blood?”

The Emperor wiped the blood trickling down his cheek.

“Is this truly an illusion…?”

Pain, touch, and the faint metallic scent of blood. Could an illusion be so meticulously crafted? Even if it were, how could he explain the overwhelming presence emanating from that colossal form?

Shivers.

The Emperor stared down at his trembling hand.

“How…?”

He was the Emperor, revered by all.

But the moment he laid eyes on that dragon, a single, overwhelming thought consumed him: submission.

It was a bizarre sensation unlike anything he had ever experienced in his life, a lingering consequence of the dwarven blood that flowed through his veins, though now diluted.

”…?!”

The Emperor realized that this was no illusion. Everything he was seeing and experiencing was reality.

Only after fully acknowledging the reality of the situation did he finally comprehend the true nature of the being before him: a snow-white dragon with violet eyes.

“The Guardian Dragon of Frenche…”