Chapter 546 The Dragon Council

Chapter 546 The Dragon Council

There existed a massive hall at the heart of the Empire.

The grand hall stretched out before those within, a vast expanse of polished marble and gleaming pillars that reached toward the vaulted ceiling high above. Sunlight poured through towering stained-glass windows, casting vibrant hues of crimson, gold, and azure across the pristine floor, illuminating the space with an ethereal glow.

At the far end of the hall stood a long, intricately carved table of dark wood, its surface polished to a mirror-like sheen. Nine ornate chairs were arranged in a semi-circle before it, each one adorned with rich velvet cushions and elaborate carvings that spoke to the wealth and power of its occupant.

Eight of the seats were already filled, their occupants seated with an air of authority and expectation. Each Lord was clad in fine robes of immaculate designs, having their respective colors on full display. Their attires were embellished with jewels and precious stones that shimmered in the dappled light.

They exuded an aura of confidence and strength, but within that bravado were expressions of solemnity.

Opposite the semi-circle that the chairs were arranged was a much grander chair--twice as large and thrice as fancy as the ones they occupied.

It belonged to the Emperor, but the seat was also vacant.

Above the table, a series of chandeliers hung from the ceiling, their crystal prisms catching the light and scattering it in a dazzling display of radiance. The air was filled with the soft murmur of conversation, punctuated by the occasional grunts or chuckles from the lips of the Lords.

Along the walls of the hall, murals depicted scenes of valor and conquest, their vibrant colors and intricate detailing a testament to the history and heritage of the Dragons.

Shields and banners hung proudly from the rafters, emblazoned with the sigils of noble houses and bearing witness to the unity and strength of the Empire.

Despite the grandeur of the hall and the opulence of its furnishings, there was an undeniable sense of tension that hung in the air.

The absence of the Emperor, the tenth seat at the table left conspicuously empty, cast a shadow over the proceedings, a silent reminder of the weighty matters that would be discussed in his absence.

Then, after the long awaited announcement, the greatest of the Lords rose to his feet.

"The Emperor won't be coming, it seems. As such, we will now begin our official deliberations." The one who spoke seemed like an elderly one.

He had an ancient look on his face, with flowing gray hair and flowing beards that matched his old aesthetic. He had a dark obsidian gown, with traces of silver and gold established around it.

Most importantly were the horns on his head.

There were seven of them.

In one word, he was like an epitome of perfection--The Great Dragon Lord Of Old--one that the other Lords respected and feared.

As for the Lords themselves, almost all of them were in attendance.

The Flame Dragon Lord Of The Fiery Lair

The Frost Dragon Lord Of The Icy Realm

The Forest Dragon Lord Of The Deep Earth

The Sea Dragon Lord Of Dark Waters

The Storm Dragon Lord Of Trembling Skies

The White Dragon Lord Of The Forbidden Valley

"All of this just had to happen when we're about to begin our second invasion on the Southern Continent..." The Flame Dragon Lord, a fiery-looking man sighed, slapping his hand on his face.

"Why did that Ob'elisk guy have to go and die anyway? It gives us Dragons a bad rep..."

A moment of silence echoed in the air, and afterwards... yet another unexpected Lord spoke up—his deep voice causing the air to tremble slightly.

"I've been thinking about something..." These words were uttered by the Death Dragon Lord Of The Cursed Tomb.

He had a completely black attire, with a pale face and a completely bald head. A hood would normally cover his face, but since this was a meeting, he had his face exposed.

A gleaming black jewel sat at the center of his forehead, and his horns appeared particularly twisted.

A somewhat sinister look decorated his face too.

"A Dragon Lord was killed in the human settlement. And even though we do not yet know how that could have happened, this is the first time anything of the sort has happened in centuries."

Once the Death Dragon Lord brought these things to their remembrance, all of the Dragons in the hall grew completely silent.

They stared at him, some now just coming to the realization of what his words meant.

"Humans. Elves. Fairies. Dwarves. Giants.... None of them have managed to display that level of resistance to us before."

Well, until now.

"This sets a bad precedent; an ominous one in fact."

Surely, all the Lords recognized this to some level, which was why there was a growing agitation and confusion towards the decision of the Emperor regarding the humans.

According to his decree, the Dragon Lords were not to step foot in the Western Continent, and they were also not to send more than two of their direct subordinates to attack. Finally, the Capital was off-limits when it came to assault.

The humans had to be preserved in the long run, so protecting them was understandable, but this had gone too far.

Especially after a Dragon Lord had just perished.

"I fear for the future of our kind." The Death Dragon Lord said as he closed his eyes.

The White Dragon Lord, as well as the other participants in the meeting all stared hard at him as he moved his lips to render his last words for the meeting.

"There might come a time... when the Dragons are no longer invincible in this world."

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[Welcome To The Land Of The Elves Arc]

~You all know the drill by now. Buckle in tight and let things play out well. It'll be difficult to top what happened in the last Arc, but I'll try my best!~

[Hope you enjoy...]