Chapter 139

Chapter 139
## Chapter 139

Otar, the leader of the Black Hawk Tribe, made his move immediately after the scout departed.

If a path out of these frozen wastes truly existed, he needed to verify it with his own eyes.

Since his people had maintained intermittent ties with the Blue Dragon Tribe, navigating the route was straightforward. However, Otar was halted at the perimeter by a reception far different from anything he had previously encountered.

“Hold your position. The King is still making his arrangements to welcome his visitors.”

Faced with this blunt decree, Otar and his fighters narrowed their gaze.

This was no mere envoy; a tribal patriarch had arrived in person. Yet, instead of a proper welcome, they were told to sit tight until the other party felt ready.

“The reputation of the Blue Dragon Tribe is even more arrogant than I had been led to believe. If these preparations are to be so extensive, I would prefer to return to my own lands and slumber. Would that be acceptable?”

Otar directed a sharp barb at the combatant who had met them. It was a clear threat: regardless of this man’s claim to royalty, if he insulted a chief by making him wait, Otar would abandon the talks entirely.

Yet the warrior did not waver, simply nodding his head.

“Do as you see fit.”

“What did you say?”

“If you wish to depart this instant, I shall not obstruct you. However, the weight of that decision will rest solely on your shoulders, Chief of the Black Hawk.”

“You arrogant cur…!”

Provoked by a tone that transitioned from rudeness to blatant disdain, one of Otar’s men gripped his hilt. Even as the air grew thick with hostility, the opponent remained entirely unruffled.

Detecting something unsettling in that calm, Otar checked his warrior’s hand and spoke.

“My apologies. My temper is short, and I spoke out of turn. I will wait, so please escort us to our lodgings.”

“…As you wish.”

Though visibly taken aback by the sudden shift in demeanor, the Blue Dragon warrior led Otar to the guest quarters without further delay.

The rooms were constructed with significant precision, matching the quality of a chief’s own home. Once Otar was inside, the Blue Dragon warrior exited, stating he would return for them when the time was appropriate.

The moment the latch clicked into place, the warriors who had been bottling their fury lashed out.

“Chief, why did you allow that brat to insult you?”

“Even for the Blue Dragon Tribe, this is a step too far!”

“Give me the word! I’ll take the blame and split his skull with my blade!”

It wasn’t merely an individual warrior being mocked; it was their leader. Since the gesture insulted the entire tribe, their rage was understandable.

However, Otar seemed to grow even more composed as his men fumed.

“No, let us observe further. There is something peculiar happening.”

“Peculiar? You mean something beyond them acting superior because of this ‘King’ character?”

“That is a factor, certainly. But as we all understand, the ability to halt the storms is a tool that only holds value once. After we have left these snowfields behind, that leverage won’t mean a thing.”

To a man who has tumbled down a ravine and cannot ascend, the line that hauls him out is more valuable than gold. But the second he stands on level ground, the cord loses its worth.

The royal status claimed by the Blue Dragon Tribe followed the same logic. No matter how much control he exerted over the gales, once they departed the frostlands, there would be no reason to remain subservient to him.

“I assumed their demand for a pledge of fealty was a way to lock in a debt before we escaped the ice. Once the promise is made, the whole tribe would be shackled by it even after his magic becomes irrelevant.”

“But you suspect there is more to it now?”

“I wonder.”

It was a query Otar struggled to resolve. The possibility remained that the Blue Dragon Tribe was merely bluffing. They surely understood better than anyone that a reign built on that specific power was a temporary arrangement.

And yet, that warrior’s face had been far too tranquil to be a simple act.

‘A man cannot hold such an expression unless he possesses an absolute certainty that all will unfold according to the King’s command, independent of that magical influence.’

Was there a different foundation for this authority?

After dwelling on the thought for a long duration, Otar let out a breath and spoke.

“We shall wait and watch. Whatever they are holding back will eventually come to light.”

If that hidden advantage proved to be a facade, the Black Hawk Tribe would merely be victims of a trick.

But if, by some miracle, the Blue Dragon Tribe possessed a strength that justified such pride…

Then the clan that bowed to the King without a fight would emerge as the ultimate winners, receiving better status than any others in the new world.

—

“The King is prepared to see you.”

The sun had set when the Blue Dragon Tribe summoned Otar once more. Weary from the delay, Otar sighed as he rose to his feet.

“At last, I shall see the face of this monarch.”

“I trust you will not be disrespectful. He is the King. He is not a figure to be equated with a common chief such as yourself.”

“…”

Otar found himself momentarily stunned by the warrior’s claim. This man had surely spent his life in these snowfields and should have been well-versed in the hierarchy of the clans. Yet, he instinctively positioned the man he served as a superior to a tribal chief and showed no concern for the offense he caused.

“Out of curiosity, did you address the other leaders in this manner as well?”

“I did.”

“And they tolerated it?”

“Thus far, they have.”

“Thus far? Are there other patriarchs waiting for an audience besides myself?”

“To be exact, they are all currently arriving. The King commanded that you all be seen together.”

“…!”

For a fleeting moment, Otar fought the impulse to strike down the warrior standing before him.

He claimed he wasn’t ready, but was he actually forcing them to wait until every other chief was gathered? Not for a summit of equals, but with the intent of lining up his subjects to inspect them?

‘This prideful bastard…!’

He had assumed that even a pretender would gain some perspective after taking the chief’s seat. But now it appeared the man was a lunatic who genuinely believed in his own royalty.

Anger burned in his chest, but he couldn’t ruin everything after coming this far. Forcing his breathing to remain steady, Otar threw a sharp look at the guide.

“You should hope your King is secure. I might tolerate this slight, but the other leaders will not possess such restraint.”

“The wrath of a minor creature is still just the noise of a minor creature. In the presence of a Dragon, they are nothing more than a snack.”

“Ha! At this point, I am intensely curious to meet him. What exactly did you recognize in this King?”

“The answer will become clear once you are in his presence. Ah, it appears the others have reached us.”

Following the warrior’s gaze, Otar saw the leaders of various clans converging from all sides. The other chiefs also seemed to grasp the reality of the situation only upon arrival, their complexions darkening as they fought to suppress their indignation.

The Blue Dragon guides bowed to the leaders, who looked ready to ignite.

“Now, please proceed. You are to enter as a group, not individually.”

“To hell with this! Fine, let us see the face of this self-proclaimed King!”

The first to vent his rage was Broindolf, the Leader of the Red Wolf Tribe. Pushed past his limit, Broindolf abandoned all decorum and marched ahead. The Blue Dragon guards flinched slightly but did not block his path.

*SLAM!*

“Show yourself! You fraudulent bastard! Who do you think you are to keep us—”

Broindolf, who had kicked the entrance open as if charging into a duel, went rigid the moment he saw the figure within.

“…A child?”

In truth, he was a man closer to a youth than a boy. In the Empire, he would have been viewed as a grown man, but this was the frostlands. His frame, significantly smaller than the warriors, and his smooth face made him look like a youngster to the tribal veterans.

However, the young man was indifferent to being labeled a child; he simply gave a thin smile and studied Broindolf.

“Why the hesitation? Now that you have arrived, do not just stand there in a daze. Come in and take a seat.”

—

The five leaders who stepped into the chamber were struck dumb as they looked at Lucian, who occupied the primary seat. They had expected a battle-hardened veteran or a sharp-witted elder, but instead, they found a youth whose beard had yet to even thicken.

Even more shocking was his conduct.

“I appreciate you making the journey. You all traveled quite swiftly. I am pleased, as it suggests we can conclude this business rapidly.”

“…”

“To start, step forward one at a time and state your names. I need to be familiar with those I will be commanding.”

Otar fought to suppress a dry laugh at the sheer arrogance. They hadn’t even committed their tribes yet, and he was already speaking as if he were assigning duties to servants.

“What kind of farce is this? A wet-behind-the-ears brat like you is the King? Is this some kind of joke?”

Broindolf, who had led the charge earlier, couldn’t hold back and stood up, shouting. Lucian glanced at Broindolf as if observing a peculiar specimen.

“That is strange. I recall all five of you pledging your fealty if I managed to clear the storms. Are you retracting your promise now?”

“I assumed you were a champion since you claimed the throne! To depose the former leader, Ivar, you would have to be a mightier combatant than him! But a weakling like this…!”

“A weakling?”

Lucian’s expression shifted into a dangerous, predatory smirk.

In that instant, visible mana erupted from his frame in thick, branching veins. As a wave of intense heat washed over the chamber, Broindolf recoiled and retreated a step.

“The Dragon’s Blessing?”

“It is far too early for you to be startled.”

As Lucian’s grin widened, the concentration of mana radiating from him surged. The mist-like energy transformed into a crashing torrent, making the very act of breathing difficult.

The chiefs began to call upon their own internal strength to withstand Lucian, but they could barely maintain their intake of air.

“What is this…!”

The five leaders clamped their jaws shut, unable to even manage a protest. They sensed that if their concentration slipped even an inch, they would be overwhelmed by the weight and choke.

But the density of the mana rose without a ceiling, and soon it became a struggle not just to breathe, but even to keep their vision from blurring.

*Creeeeak, crack!*

The sound of timber snapping rang through the room. Unable to endure the downward force, several nearby pieces of furniture were being pulverized.

When the very floorboards beneath them started to groan, Otar felt cold sweat bead on his skin.

‘Curse it. If we make a mistake here, none of us leave alive!’

The Dragon’s Blessing was a force that could be a piercing gale or a crushing mountain depending on its use. Currently, while the King was only stacking the weight like a mountain, it was just barely tolerable.

But what would happen if he decided to turn that mountain into a hurricane? Not only would this structure be obliterated, but everyone inside would be shredded to pieces.

*Crunch, snap!*

As the flooring began to shatter, the five leaders struggled to stay upright. Despite the humiliation of nearly falling, they were frozen in place. Breathing had become a forgotten luxury; they were using every ounce of will just to keep their skeletons from collapsing.

Finally, just as Otar felt his consciousness slipping, the mana in the room evaporated as if it had never existed.

“Gasp, huff!”

“Haaaa…!”

Released from the crushing grip of the mana, the five chiefs gulped down air. They had never realized a simple breath could be so precious.

It was exactly as the leaders were regaining their composure that the King spoke.

“Repeat yourself. Who was it that you called weak?”

At the King’s freezing tone, the five chiefs stood paralyzed.