The collapse of the underground laboratory threw the entire Imperial City into chaos.
Erland, barely alive, staggered out of the rubble, saved only by the sorcerers and guards who had shielded him.
But before he could catch his breath, he shouted through his exhaustion and pain:
"Quickly—gather all available forces! Stop Constantine and Feir at any cost!"
"Yes, my lord!"
Erland looked up, watching the two massive figures against the night sky, clenching his teeth in frustration.
The old sorcerer had hinted that this escape had been planned from the beginning by Constantine and Feir. But Erland couldn't understand how Constantine had mustered enough consciousness to plan such a dangerous escape. The first contact between Constantine and Feir must have occurred after the Red Dragon Sanctuary battle, when Feir carried Constantine's head back to the Empire.
At that time, Constantine should have been too weak to plan anything, and there was no guarantee that the Empire's sorcerers wouldn't entirely wipe out his will during the second fusion attempt. If they had succeeded in controlling him, Constantine would have become nothing more than a biological weapon, void of any self-will.
As Erland tightened his fist, shouts and spell chants filled the air as sorcerers and guards bombarded the sky with long-range spells, trying to target Feir and Constantine.
But Feir, the Ironwing Dragon King, wasn't renowned for nothing; his speed and agility gave him complete dominance in the sky.
With his arm extended, Constantine gripped one of Feir's claws, his whole body suspended in the air. As he looked down at the humans below, a dangerous gleam of hatred ignited in his eyes.
"They trapped me in that incubation chamber, cut my flesh, and tried to erase my will with their potions and magic," he said, his voice a low growl.
Feir nodded, "It was a privilege to help you, Lord Constantine. I only provided the barrier spell."
Back when Feir had carried Constantine's head from the sanctuary, Constantine, with his faint remaining will, had managed to communicate with him. Upon learning of Constantine's plan, Feir had cast a barrier spell within his mind, isolating a part of his will, invisible to the Empire's sorcerers. When the Empire revived him, the barrier was lifted, allowing the Red Flame Dragon King's rebirth.
"Do you intend to take revenge on these humans now, Constantine?" Feir asked.
Constantine looked down at the town and the scrambling soldiers, casually hurling a fireball into their ranks, igniting an explosive blaze among the pursuing troops.
"Now's not the time for revenge."
Constantine studied his right hand, which had just unleashed the fireball. "This new body will need time to adjust, and…"
"And?"
Constantine clenched his fist, a glimmering white energy gathering within his palm. "And this ancient power… I can't control it completely yet."
"Ancient power… you mean?"
"The Primordial Force."
"Primordial Force… the power of the original Dragon King, Noah, the first Dragon King in dragon history, second only in rank to Tiamat, the Dragon God."
During his time in confinement, Constantine had often overheard the humans mentioning the "Primordial Force." Being an ancient Dragon King himself, Constantine knew exactly what that was.
He hadn't expected these insignificant humans to have obtained such an ancient and potent power—it was genuinely surprising.
"Ah… yes, the Primordial Force. The Empire's other partnership with the dragon clans is for the Primordial Force in the far north," Feir explained. "Stelladragon King Ravi and I both contributed to that partnership."
Feir paused, adding, "Ravi even sacrificed his life in the process."
Constantine's gaze shifted. "Who killed him?"
Feir didn't answer directly, but Constantine could guess.
"Leon Cosmodeous…"
"Yes, that man killed several Dragon Kings allied with the Empire, one after another."
Constantine growled. "Kid…"
"What?"
"How long did you stay in the far north?"
Feir was puzzled but replied, "About five years, I suppose."
"Oh… then you wouldn't know," Constantine muttered to himself.
"Know what?" Feir asked, curiosity piqued.
Constantine scoffed. "You wouldn't know who Leon's first Dragon King kill was."
Feir, ever straightforward, asked, "Who was it?"
Constantine wanted to ask if Feir was deliberately messing with him. He sighed and said, "It was me."
Feir's flight faltered for a moment in shock. "Sorry, I don't keep up much with the news down south."
"It's fine."
Constantine's mind churned, his attention drawn to Feir's words about the Empire's collaboration in the far north.
"So, the Empire's deal with us dragons isn't just about prolonging this war. It also involves something in the far north… I didn't know that."
"It's a secret project to locate Noah's Primordial Force," Feir explained. "But after Ravi died, without a Dragon King adept in spatial magic, they couldn't get past the northern ice barriers. The collaboration was called off."
As Constantine considered Feir's explanation, a wild thought began to take shape in his mind.
The pursuers below continued to multiply.
Feir beat his wings, gaining speed as Constantine sent down a few more fireballs to distract the soldiers.
"Take us to my territory, Feir."
"Got it."
With a thunderous clap, the Ironwing Dragon King accelerated, disappearing into the thick night.
Meanwhile, at the gates of the Imperial City, Tiger and Rebecca watched the chaos unfold from the top of an abandoned tower.
"Looks like the Empire's alliance with the dragons has crumbled," Rebecca remarked.
"Not entirely," Tiger replied. "But after what happened with Constantine, no dragon will be eager to work with these selfish madmen."
Rebecca's mind worked quickly. "You think Constantine will go after our Captain too?"
Tiger nodded. "But at least not right away. We still have time to prepare a countermeasure."
"Good, we're meeting with the Captain soon to exchange intel."
Rebecca's eyes sparkled mischievously. "We'll also tell him about our 'Lionheart Society.' He'll be thrilled."
Tiger hesitated, scratching his forehead awkwardly. "So we're really going with 'Lionheart Society'? Isn't that a bit… flashy?"
"What else? 'Tiger Club'?" Rebecca teased.
"Alright, Lionheart Society it is."
After all, a girl who named her squad "Old, Weak, Sick, and Pregnant" was unlikely to come up with something modest.
"Lionheart Society sounds fierce, and it's clearly dragon-slaying inspired. Perfectly suited to the Captain's image!" Rebecca argued, arms crossed.
"Fine, fine. Fierce it is."
Tiger straightened, his hand on the hilt of his sword, and gazed into the depths of the night.
Then, turning his head slightly, his gaze softened, and he whispered to himself:
"A greater threat is on its way. Take care of yourself, Charlotte."