Chapter 683: Reinhardt and the Emperor’s Daughter, Slumber
High above the skies of Atlan.
The Red Iron Dragon stretched his wings, circling among the drifting winds and floating clouds. He cast his gaze downward, his eyes sweeping across the vast expanse of heaven and earth.
Countless Cloud Rails came into view, crisscrossing in every direction.
He could clearly see Cloud Rail trains racing through the sky, their carriages gliding steadily along the tracks. Occasionally, dragons, griffons, and other creatures chased after the trains, playing and frolicking.
Sometimes they dove close to the windows, sometimes they tumbled and looped around the tracks, drawing bursts of cheers from inside the carriages.
On the ground, cities stood at the center of a network of roads extending in all directions, intersecting and connecting everything.
With just a casual glance, one could feel the prosperity and vitality of Atlan today.
Farmlands were lush and green, workshops sent up wisps of smoke, and harbors bristled with masts.
Every nation on this continent was reaching unprecedented glory under the rule of Sacred Aola, thriving and developing with each passing day. Every living being had found their place within this new order.
"The Divine Seat of the Lord of Victory and Glory..."
The Red Iron Dragon pondered within his mind.
Back in the Serene Spirit Wilderness, he had chatted extensively with Netal at the banquet, learning more about the Divine Seat and the Joyous Court.
Simply put, Titania was forging a Divine Seat for him.
Once the Divine Seat was completed, the Faerie Gods of the Joyous Court, along with their fey followers and subjects—including other deities who kept an eye on the Faerie pantheon—would all come to know of the birth of the Lord of Victory and Glory.
At that time, his faith on Bernardo wouldn't change much.
But here in the Serene Spirit Wilderness, a plane ruled by the fey, the fey's reverence for the Red Emperor would transform into faith. They would incorporate the Lord of Victory and Glory into their own belief system, setting aside a dedicated place for him in their rituals and ceremonies.
More importantly, his story was already widely spread across the Serene Spirit Wilderness.
Once the Divine Seat took shape, he would harvest a massive amount of faith from the fey—potentially even exceeding what he received from his subjects in Atlan.
However, quantity and quality were two different dimensions.
When it came to the quality of faith, what Sacred Aola could offer was unparalleled.
The Red Iron Dragon narrowed his eyes slightly, focusing his mind to perceive the Threads of Faith.
He could clearly feel that across the entire continent of Atlan—beyond his most loyal citizens of Sacred Aola, even within the territories of vassal states like Lothrian and Theo—faith was continuously emerging. People began bowing their heads in prayer toward him at sunset.
Even within the cities of Halden, there was a small amount of faith directed at him.
Clearly, the once-proud people of Halden, after falling to the earth, were still sorting out their cultural identity, but some had already turned their eyes toward him.
"The first time I ascended to godhood, my faith source was basically limited to the citizens of Sacred Aola. The scope was limited," Garoth mused, his gaze slowly sweeping across the land.
Now, things were a bit different.
His range of faith was constantly expanding, gradually covering the entire Solog continent.
The reason was also quite simple.
Sacred Aola had not yet formally unified all of Solog. But every living being on that continent bathed in the glory of the Joyous Court. His reputation and deeds had penetrated every corner.
Even the vassals of Sacred Aola took deep pride in the Red Emperor.
When feelings of admiration, worship, and pride reached a certain level, faith was born naturally.
Without a Divine Seat, most of this faith would go to waste. Since Garoth had not formally ascended to godhood, faith beyond the demigod level would dissipate into nothingness.
But having a Divine Seat didn't come with only benefits.
Everything has two sides.
"Once the Divine Seat is forged, gathering the faith of the fey and my subjects from various kingdoms, its divine rank will once again surpass my own. That means the pressure of faith I have to endure will be even greater than before."
"Having too much faith isn't entirely a good thing."
The mental influence brought by ascending to godhood was quite peculiar.
Its most dangerous aspect wasn't just the flood-like intensity.
It would make Garoth sincerely embrace divine responsibilities from the bottom of his heart, gradually shaping himself toward the image his believers held of him, slowly eroding his individual free will.
This meant that if the influence was deep enough in a short period, he might try to suppress his adaptation evolution ability to fully ascend to godhood, becoming a divine image that met his followers' expectations.
Garoth's original plan was to wait until he became an Immortal before gradually adapting to the negative effects of apotheosis.
But judging by how things were developing now, even after he became Immortal, the influence of faith after his apotheosis would still be dangerously severe.
Garoth felt a bit troubled by this.
However, if other gods learned of his "troubles," they might descend directly into the Material Plane to beat him senseless.
How outrageous!
Complaining about having too much faith?!
Of course, Garoth didn't despise the faith itself—he knew its power and value.
Compared to the benefits that a Divine Seat and faith could bring, the risks were very manageable, almost negligible. As long as he remained clear-headed and vigilant, these risks weren't enough to shake his foundation.
𝘧𝘳𝘦ℯ𝓌𝘦𝒷𝘯𝑜𝑣𝘦𝓁.𝒸𝘰𝓂
Still, this was a relatively long-term investment. In the short term, it could only serve as a trump card, not something easily cashed in.
"Igniting divine annihilation with an Immortal body, consolidating the immortal Fate Form with divinity..."
"...At the very least, I have to wait until my Immortal rank surpasses the faith level, or find a way to be unaffected by faith influence, before I can formally take the Divine Seat. Until then, I must remain patient."
With that thought, Garoth gradually gathered his focus.
He withdrew his gaze from the Cloud Rails and the scenery on the ground, no longer distracted by the prosperity before him.
Then, as if by practiced ease, he tore open space, revealing a passage to the deep void. He headed toward the white dwarf suspended in the void, once again immersing himself in training and tempering.
Time flowed by amid the roar of the Cloud Rail trains. Garoth's day of slumber drew closer and closer.
Every time he closed his eyes and opened them again, many pages had turned on the calendar.
New Calendar year 772.
The Red Iron Dragon received news from Garcro and Laria.
Though troubles came from all directions, the two Emperor's sons had managed to establish a foothold on the unfamiliar continent. In the name of Dragon Breath, they had built a super-large Molten Iron Tribe.
Moreover, they were preparing to found a nation, having already delineated preliminary borders and a ruling framework.
After securing stable territories, they constructed many arcane formations and buildings, including magical communication stations capable of cross-world stable transmissions, small teleportation arrays that could transport a few individuals, and so on. They raised dragon banners across the lands of Faerûn.
This clearly exceeded Garoth's initial requirements for them—his original expectation was simply for them to take root in the alien world.
But Garoth didn't blame them for being too aggressive.
After all, plans always fell short of changes, and opportunities often came hand in hand with risks.
According to them, the Imathian mechanical empire had completely collapsed. The gods' wrath had subsided, and one by one, the saint avatars were retreating, leaving behind lands filled with ruins and relics.
The mechanical treasures buried deep underground awaited new masters to excavate them.
Their founding of a nation was meant to acquire more resources and continue expanding and exploring on a more stable foundation.
This way, they could build more arcane formations here, coordinating with Sacred Aola in the future to teleport an endless stream of Aola legions at the right time, competing for the mechanical empire's legacy.
Garoth approved of their thinking.
The retreat of the saints meant the danger level in Faerûn had dropped significantly. The god avatars that once walked among mortals had returned to their own planes.
Besides, although Garoth didn't yet have a Divine Seat, he had already joined the Joyous Court.
As a dragon with backing, he no longer needed to fear divine-level dangers as much. Standing behind a pantheon gave him far more confidence than before.
So he manifested a spatial rift clone, coiled up and concealed within the Dragon Breath tribe.
His claws and fangs were hidden, his aura deeply buried.
Normally, this clone remained dormant, silent as a volcano. But if Garcro and the others encountered danger they couldn't handle, they could call upon their father's will to descend, and the clone would awaken from its slumber.
New Calendar year 776.
The Dragon Breath tribe was attacked.
As undead howled and dark clouds covered the sun, the rift dragon opened its eyes. With unmatched dominance, it tore through layers of clouds, crushed the enemy forces, and formally appeared under Faerûn's sky, its wing-shadow blotting out the heavens.
The following year.
The Dragon Breath Kingdom was established on Faerûn's soil, ruled jointly by the Twin Kings. Garcro and Laria sat side by side on the throne, accepting the loyalty of their subjects.
Soon after, time arrived at New Calendar year 780.
Garoth stood upon the dragon court, and sleepiness surged through his spirit like a tide, each wave stronger than the last. His dormancy period had arrived—he could enter slumber at any time.
Whoosh!
A strong wind swept through as dragon wings flapped.
The iron dragon Sorog landed beside Garoth, folding his wings and planting his sturdy limbs firmly on the ground.
The Iron Dragon looked at him and said bluntly, "Garoth, my dear brother, are you going into slumber?"
Garoth slowly nodded. "After this slumber, I should be able to directly ascend to an Immortal life form."
The Iron Dragon paused in surprise. "So soon?"
He knew how difficult it was for dragons to break through to Immortality.
Sorog had originally thought that even Garoth couldn't achieve Immortality with just one slumber. After all, reaching the limit of the Mandate realm at his age was already extremely fast.
"We've got a bunch of Faerie Gods backing us now. Titania gave me something good."
Garoth said frankly.
The Iron Dragon lightly nodded, thoughtful. "I almost forgot—we do have divine protection now. And it's real protection, not the nominal kind like before."
In theory, dragons had the protection of dragon gods. The names of the dragon gods were passed down through dragon lineage for generations.
But in practice, although the dragon gods were renowned across the multiverse, in the eyes of dragonkind, they weren't much different from background decorations. Unless a massacre of metal dragons occurred that might attract the Platinum Dragon God's attention, dragons basically never received the gods' notice under any other circumstances.
Their protection remained mostly on a nominal level.
As for Tiamat...
Her reputation spoke for itself. No explanation needed.
No dragon wanted to gain her attention.
"Since your dormancy period has arrived, hurry up and go to sleep. I'll wait for you to break through to Immortality, then lead Sacred Aola to officially launch the Grand Expedition!"
Sorog's breathing grew heavier, a gleam of excitement flickering in his eyes.
This Iron Dragon seemed even more excited than Garoth, as if he were the one about to break through to Immortality through slumber.
Garoth, accustomed to this, reminded him, "My slumber this time might be much longer than before. Atlan is now heading toward unprecedented prosperity and strength, but while I sleep, some annoying pests might crawl out of the shadows. Keep an eye on them."
Overall, the beings of Atlan were very submissive under dragon rule. Order stood as firm as rock beneath the cover of dragon wings.
But there was never a shortage of ambitious men, speculators, or rebels at any time...
When the Red Emperor's might was at its zenith, these fellows would hide in fear, curling up in their dark corners.
However, if he remained silent for too long, some would gradually lose patience, feeling that opportunity was coming.
"Don't worry. I've dealt with this kind of thing plenty—it's not a big problem."
"Even if you're asleep, we still have an Immortal sitting guard. Reinhardt's sword won't rust."
Sorog said.
Then, a hint of hesitation flickered across the Iron Dragon's face. He changed the subject slightly, lowering his voice. "Reinhardt has been getting close to Philista recently..."
Philista, a Red Dragon.
The Emperor's daughter of the first generation, descendant of Garoth and the phoenix Anqiya. Like her mother, she loved beautiful things and held a stubborn pride in her own beauty.
Garoth turned his head slightly. "How did they meet?"
The Iron Dragon said, "From what I know, it was just an ordinary chance encounter. You know Philista likes to patrol the imperial capital, showing off her beauty to others. She ran into Reinhardt during one of these patrols."
Garoth was silent, letting his thoughts slowly turn in his mind.
Reinhardt had always been handsome—his features sharply defined and cleanly outlined.
After he reached Immortality, beyond his inherent good looks, he gave other beings a sense of perfection. That transcendent, otherworldly aura was a natural attraction.
Given the Red Dragon Philista's personality, as long as they met, the chance of her being attracted was very high.
"Let it be. Don't interfere with this."
Garoth said slowly, his voice calm and casual.
Several of the first-generation Emperor's daughters were already hundreds of years old, but the Red Dragon Philista and the Silver Dragon Isanora were still single.
The latter was due to being too carefree and lazy.
As for the former... this Red Dragon was a complete "face-con," with extremely high standards for appearance. Having grown up in the Red Emperor Capital and grown accustomed to seeing overly large and strong male dragons, she had gradually lost interest over time.
Reinhardt, on the other hand, happened to fit her aesthetic perfectly.
As for Reinhardt...
As the first swordsman under Garoth, he naturally received much attention. After submitting to Garoth, Garoth quickly obtained all his life's intelligence, knowing everything about him.
When Reinhardt was young, members of the opposite sex always surrounded him.
But he had barely reached adulthood without developing any real romantic relationship when he suffered the most devastating blow of his life. Then, to pursue revenge, he cut off all matters of the heart, embarking on a deadly adventure across the Arotala Continent. His mind held only his sword and blood.
Later, Reinhardt submitted to Garoth.
He knew well what his greatest value was—the foundation of his existence was the twin swords in his hands.
Thus, to maintain his position as the sharpest blade among the Emperor's retinue, Reinhardt honed his blade day after day, caring nothing for romance. His rest time was compressed to the absolute minimum. In a short period, he broke through to Immortality, crossing a threshold that countless powerful beings could never surpass in a lifetime.
After becoming Immortal, he seemed to have relaxed somewhat, developing other thoughts...
"If they can come together, it would be good for the empire."
"Reinhardt isn't completely loyal to Aola. His loyalty to you stems more from respect than from enthusiasm for the empire itself."
The Iron Dragon Sorog said in a low voice.
But Garoth shook his head slightly and said calmly, "The empire's strength doesn't depend on one human swordsman, Sorog. Whatever direction things go, don't interfere with his and Philista's matter."
As for Philista, this offspring of his, he didn't place much importance on her.
She wasn't particularly outstanding among his many descendants.
But that didn't mean he needed to maintain his rule by controlling her partner. It was neither necessary nor in line with his style.
The Iron Dragon nodded and said frankly, "As you wish. I won't get involved then."
If Garoth hadn't spoken, to make the Immortal swordsman more completely devoted, Sorog would have certainly meddled behind the scenes, arranging suitable opportunities and occasions.
But since Garoth had said so, Sorog decided not to bother with this matter, letting it develop naturally.
After that, Garoth summoned his other blood kin, visiting Deborah and the others.
Everything had been said and prepared.
The Red Iron Dragon arrived in the empty void, landing on the white dwarf. His four feet stepped onto the hard, dense surface, and he leaped toward the deep pit he had excavated, descending all the way to the very bottom.
In the thick darkness, a pair of pupils blazed brightly.
Garoth silently raised his head, clearly feeling the terrifying supergravity that gripped him like an invisible giant hand, constantly squeezing him.
Here, even in his normal state, he could vaguely sense the existence of the lines of force, though he still couldn't grasp them in his base form.
Without hesitation.
He took out the small, miniature Immortal Spirit Fruit and swallowed it in one gulp.
He felt no particularly special sensation.
The fruit was too small—Garoth couldn't even taste what it was.
He only felt that after the Immortal Spirit Fruit went down, a series of cool sensations spread through his body, and his mental state grew quieter. He wasn't worried at all about failing the breakthrough, nor did he feel any anxiety or tension.
"From the Mandate of Heaven to Potency, from Legendary to Immortal."
"A leap onto the grand stage of the multiverse... let's begin."
The Red Iron Dragon slowly coiled his body, overlapping his limbs, and then closed his eyes, allowing the thick darkness and crushing supergravity to engulf and cover him.