School Transmigration: I, Chosen as the Saint by Dragons at the Start-Chapter 153 --The Eve of Chaos

Roger approached, his expression a complex tapestry of pity interwoven with a touch of sorrow.

The Fourth Elder, grasping at straws, reached out to touch Roger, his voice a blend of desperation and hope, "Prince Saint, I have accomplished what you asked of me. My family..."

Roger deftly avoided the Fourth Elder’s scarred hand, his voice steady and reassuring, "I keep my promises. Rest assured."

In the Fourth Elder’s eyes, there seemed to be a fading light, a sign Roger recognized all too well - the ebbing away of life.

The Elder’s body, already weakened by old ailments and the forced breakthroughs that left behind wounds inflicted by sage powers, was hard to heal.

These were not just physical scars but damages intertwined with the very laws of magic, notoriously difficult to mend.

His life was already hanging by a thread, and now he was sacrificing his last vestiges of vitality to pave a golden path for his family.

Roger had tasked the Fourth Elder with a mission primarily to weaken the dragons’ power - an excellent strategy if there ever was one.

The second objective was to exhaust Nidaam’s formidable strike, a sword strike nurtured over three hundred years.

No sage could confidently claim the ability to withstand it fully.

Now, with the Fourth Elder’s life-for-life exchange, Roger felt he had made a profitable bargain.

Otherwise, with the impending war between the angel race and the dragons, Nidaam’s sword would have hung over Roger’s head like the Sword of Damocles.

With the threat now neutralized, Roger felt a weight lifted off his shoulders.

The death of this most threatening individual was, indeed, a fortunate event for the angel race.

As for the Celestial Kingdom suffering damage to a quarter of its expanse, such a loss was inconsequential to the angel race, akin to mere pocket change.

...

In the sky, a colossal Arabic numeral "10" hung suspended, along with an image depicting the rift between the angel race and the dragons.

This spectacle was visible across the entirety of the Novalia continent, sending two messages that spread across the land with the rapidity of a droplet of oil hitting boiling water, exploding forth in a tumultuous burst.

In the capital of Westro Fairyland, Campbellton, stood nine majestic peaks, among which Ruins Mountain was the most renowned, thanks to the Divine Palace that crowned it.

The Divine Palace, a sanctuary connected with the divine, was nearly the heart and soul of Westro Fairyland.

The Demon Emperor sat cross-legged within the grand hall, his fingertips lightly tapping on his knee, a thoughtful expression on his face, "The angel race has finally made their move. The gods must be pleased."

Cloud Wielder, the chief custodian of the Divine Palace and akin to a divine messenger walking among mortals named Saroyan, responded softly, "The gods are indeed pleased. Shouldn’t the Emperor consider deploying troops?"

Lowering his gaze, the Demon Emperor mused, "Deploying troops? Indeed, it’s time.

The dog-eat-dog battle between the angel race and the dragons needs a strong potion.

Yet, we must also be wary not to broaden the scope of impression.

Should those mad dogs, the dragons, set their sights on us, we would indeed find ourselves in a predicament."

Cloud Wielder bowed slightly, inquiring, "Have the gods contacted you?"

The Demon Emperor didn’t respond verbally but lifted his gaze as a snow-white piece of paper descended before him.

Blood-red characters slowly emerged on it: "A divine artifact breaches the void, it must be seized."

With narrowed eyes and a light chuckle, the Demon Emperor remarked, "Interesting. Now, with the angel race and the dragons plunged into chaos and a void-breaching divine artifact entering the fray, the continent is set for lively times again."

"Who shall we send?" Cloud Wielder asked.

After a moment of contemplation, the Demon Emperor declared, "Vann. As a fallen general, he remains the most loyal hound of Westro."

...

At the Grand Magus Academy, Kendo stood in his office, gazing out at the sky.

Despite the brightness of day, the sky above was adorned with clouds tinged with the hues of sunset, painting half of the heavens a fiery red.

Below this spectacle, a prominent Arabic numeral "10" was visible.

The office door swung open, and a resonant voice emerged from behind Kendo, "What are your thoughts on the grand battle between the dragons and the angel race?"

Kendo turned, a hint of surprise in his demeanor, "You’ve actually decided to leave the court? How are your injuries?" 𝒻𝓇𝑒𝘦𝘸𝑒𝒷𝓃ℴ𝑣𝘦𝑙.𝒸ℴ𝘮

The person who entered was none other than the reigning king of the Laine Kingdom.

However, his current appearance bore no resemblance to his regal courtly image.

His face was gaunt, his spirit seemed depleted, and wrinkles covered his visage like a man half-buried in the earth, teetering on the brink of death.

"It’s nothing," the king coughed twice, "The court’s grand formation is also nearing its expiration."

Kendo observed the king in silence for a long moment.

The moment the court’s grand formation fails, the king would be revealed in this condition to all, and at that time, every subject of the Laine Kingdom would realize their sovereign’s advanced state of decay, signifying a tumultuous time for the nation.

"Don’t look at me like that; I’m not dead yet," the king chuckled, removing his coat to sit before Kendo.

Kendo spoke softly, "You handed over the schematics of the Void Black Dragon to Owen?"

"Is returning something to its rightful owner so wrong?" the king responded nonchalantly, "The ruins of the Void Black Dragon rightfully belong to the dragons for exploration."

"You..." Kendo pursed his lips, exhaling a long sigh, "Your own ailment stems from the Void Black Dragon. If Owen were to fall there, it would incite the dragons’ wrath."

Lowering his gaze, the king spoke in a somber tone, "There’s no time left."

Kendo was well aware of what the king implied, "What brings you to me?"

"I wish to know your thoughts on the dragons," the king’s eyes sparkled with a rare sharpness, revealing in those moments the stature of a sovereign who had long held the reins of power.

Kendo slowly took his seat, speaking deliberately, "You likely have a clearer understanding of such matters than I."

"Indeed," the king coughed repeatedly.

Kendo, frowning, poured him a glass of water before he continued, "But the dragons cannot be swiftly annihilated. I understand Cobber well; the moment the dragons find themselves at a disadvantage, he will hide, allowing the dragons to vanish into obscurity. After all, time is on his side."

Cobber, the great elder of the dragons and a sage, stood among the most venerable sages on the continent.

Kendo fell silent, pondering for a while before speaking in a tone laced with ambiguity, "Are you considering supporting the angel race? Administering a strong potion to the dragons to ensure they cannot escape?"

Before the king could reply, Kendo pressed on, "You are playing with fire, risking the lives of millions in the Laine Kingdom on the edge of a knife. This is a path towards certain death."

"That’s an exaggeration," the king waved dismissively, "I am merely looking to gain some advantages during this time."

"Such as?" Kendo’s brows remained knitted for a long time.

"Now, with the Dragon Slaying Pillar emerging again, and previously suppressed by the dragons, none of the major races dared to use it.

Currently, with the dragons preoccupied, many have considered utilizing the Dragon Slaying Pillar to absorb ’Spiricontam’ and offer it to the gods for benefits," the king’s tone was light, yet each word was laden with lethal intent, "We, too, must engage in such endeavors."

Though the Dragon Slaying Pillar is a hallmark of the Dragon Slaying Field, slaying dragons is merely one of its functions.

Its second, and equally significant purpose, is to absorb ’Spiricontam’ energy, a substance dearly beloved by the gods and considered one of their favorite offerings.

Hence, while it appears that there are only twelve Dragon Slaying Pillars on the continent, in reality, there are at least a thousand such pillars, each a closely guarded secret of survival for various races.

Previously, utilizing a Dragon Slaying Pillar was a grave taboo.

Now, with the dragons mired in their own quagmires, employing the Pillars to absorb "Spiricontam" energy goes largely unchecked by the dragon kind.

The king’s intentions were not difficult to surmise.

Kendo, for his part, didn’t object, understanding that as long as the Dragon Slaying Pillars were not used against the dragons directly, discussions could proceed.

Wars between nations are commonplace, after all, and Kendo could only inquire, "What do you need from me?"

"Essentially, we need to replenish our strategic resources," the king said, his smile tinged with irony, punctuated by a cough, "We’ll use money to purchase, ensuring the Grand Magus Academy doesn’t have to enter the fray directly."

The Grand Magus Academy is the Laine Kingdom’s trump card, and deploying it might provoke reactions from neighboring states or races.

Kendo sighed, "You’ve come to me in person, what else can I say?"

"Thank you," the king responded sincerely.

"Who do you intend to target?" Kendo asked, puzzled, "Is it the neighboring nations?"

"No, as long as they do not infringe upon us, I will not strike them," the king assured, "We naturally pick the softer targets. The orc nations around us and some of the more troublesome goblin groups make for easy picking at this opportunity."

The wrath of a sovereign could lead to millions lying dead - this was no laughing matter.

Kendo, sensing the impending storm of blood and violence, waved his hand wearily, "Have your representative speak with the academy."

The king nodded slightly towards Kendo before preparing to leave.

As he reached the door of the office, Kendo called out, "I hope you are aware, do not rush Owen towards the Void Black Dragon ruins. That place is beyond his reach for now."

The king did not respond, quickly exiting the office.

His aged appearance belied the vigor of the reigning king of Laine Kingdom, naturally drawing no attention.

...

Owen sat alone in the training room, his body enveloped in a dense aura of gold, green, and blue energies.

His body seemed like a bottomless pit, ceaselessly absorbing the surrounding arcanergy.

As time passed, the arcanergy within him grew stronger and stronger, as if it threatened to tear his body apart.

Suddenly, Owen’s body emitted a dazzling light, a profound and mysterious tri-color glow.

This light instantly illuminated the entire training room, casting a mystical hue over everything within.

Under this radiant glow, Owen’s body began to transform.

His muscles became more defined, his bones grew tougher, and his skin turned as smooth as obsidian.