Wizard starting from shoeing donkeys Chapter 1589 - 549: Mad Wings
"Speaker, esteemed colleagues, let me pose this to you first: should the Divine descent that struck Imperial City Tamriel repeat itself within our Federation, could we truly endure it?"
"On this occasion, the Empire overcame a horde of Evil Gods, but only at the price of Emperor Carlos II's demise." Vice Speaker Bertrand avoided outright approval or rejection, opting instead to raise his own query.
"This..." Numerous congress members displayed pensive looks.
Just then, a middle-aged figure adorned with a golden monocle uttered in a grave tone:
"Vice Speaker, that's precisely why accelerating our probe into the Floating City Ruins is essential. In my view, harnessing the legendary ancient Floating City—capable of defying the True Gods—would grant us the means to repel them."
"Yet this doesn't imply we must ally with the Empire." The man appeared to sense Bertrand's aims and stressed the point.
Bertrand shot a look at the fellow. Known as Congressman Bode Blake, his lineage traced back to nobles banished from the Empire, fueling his deep-seated desire for the Dragan Empire's downfall.
Offspring, affiliated groups, or representatives from these banished nobles held a substantial share of the seats in the Federation Congress today. Such roots explained the ongoing clashes and strains between the Federation and the Empire amid this lull in the energy tide.
The man with the golden monocle pressed on, his face etched with resentment:
"Besides, examine the report's wording: ’hopes the congress will consent to inviting Lord Rein of the Empire for the Floating City expedition, offering fitting rewards...’ How does this serve the Federation's welfare?"
"Naturally, I hold great esteem and reverence for those few mighty figures in the Federation, though it's evident they lack true insight into the intricacies of politics."
Bertrand had evidently foreseen such resistance well in advance. He took a measured sip of his red tea and remarked steadily, "For an ordinary ruin, Congressman Bode's stance might hold water. However, you may not realize that authorities have now verified the black mist animating the ancient goblin remains inside the Floating City as Fiend Demon!"
"What! Fiend Demon?" An aged congressman involuntarily bulged his eyes.
Certain members of congress unfamiliar with Fiend Demon's implications started flipping through the supplementary document beneath the main report.
"To put it plainly, venturing into the Floating City Ruins using only the Federation's own might could demand a heavy toll, and outright failure remains a real risk."
"What's more, time favors neither us nor humanity at large. I say it's high time we unite in effort." Bertrand declared solemnly.
In that instant, silence enveloped the conference chamber.
"Vice Speaker, assuming Fiend Demon proves as dreadful and mighty as described, joining forces with the Dragan Empire still might not guarantee success in our delve. Given your firm position, Vice Speaker, I'll support restricted collaboration."
Congressman Bode, his golden monocle glinting, persisted in opposing full alliance and cut in once more.
"I support restricted collaboration, and whatever rewards we claim from the Floating City will hinge on the caliber of the Empire's dispatched squad this round."
"I agree."
"I concur."
Following a brief period of reflection, Federation Speaker Lawson Powell tapped his pipe and finalized:
"Very well, restricted collaboration it is."
Seated next to him, the captivating lady Trena cast glances at her fellow colleagues, inwardly exasperated.
’Sigh, should this scheme unfold as proposed, with the Empire deploying a unit under Lord Rein's command, the Federation could end up with mere scraps. What a group oblivious to the bigger picture.’
Yet this reflected the prevailing sentiment across the Federation, beyond the reach of even her words to sway.
Vice Speaker Bertrand's prior address had covered the matter adeptly, though shifting the tide proved no easy feat.
In truth, the animosity and prejudices harbored by some against the Empire stemmed not from a single era, but from ages upon ages...
...
Imperial City Tamriel.
At the threshold of Black Dragon Azurax's den, Menia and Rein lingered in discussion, holding back from entering.
"Among the Five-Colored Dragons, the Black Dragon boasts the foulest disposition. Azurax pales in comparison to Metheus's even fiercer ire. It's gone unchosen by any for nearly two centuries." Menia shared, a wry smile touching her lips.
"Two hundred years?" Rein exclaimed in astonishment.
Even at the Extremely Old Dragon Level, while some aspiring dragon knights might lack the requisite strength, zero selections over two centuries struck as utterly unprecedented.
"Does it harbor some defect?"
"Indeed, dragons dub Metheus ’Mad Wings.’ In its youth as an adolescent dragon, it reveled in aggression and strife. Subsequently, a brutal clash left it with grave cranial damage, and now, amid intense battles, it flies into uncontrollable rage."
"Its last Dragon Knight perished from the chaos it unleashed in combat, even after vanquishing the Flame Demon. The knight later perished from wounds sustained."
"I understand." Rein acknowledged with a nod.
Bonds between dragons and their knights mirror those of riders and warhorses for humans.
Harmony is vital between knight and mount, yet mounting a dragon that defies or ignores the Dragon Knight's directives spells certain doom on the battlefield.
That said, such concerns didn't trouble Rein.
His formidable skills formed one basis for assurance; the system's Battle Pet Contract bestowed another layer of command.
"Menia, regarding battle strength, does this ’Mad Wings’ Metheus surpass the others?"