A Journey That Changed The World

Chapter 1469: Would You Like To See It For Yourself?

Archer was standing on the back of a Venomwing Guardian’s back as he watched his creatures finishing off the Darkthorne camp. He allowed the monsters to feed on the enemies while ushering the ones that surrendered into a cage he created.

Once the battle was done, he descended to the ground just as he jumped off its back and landed with a thud. The trembling Demons looked at him with fear in their eyes, making him laugh as he stopped in front of them.

’’I’ll let all of you live, but you’ll be stuck in a camp with all the other Alliance prisoners I’ve caught since the war started,’’ he revealed.

His tone instantly convinced most to agree to his terms, prompting him to open a portal to the walled-in settlement he created a while ago. Once that was done, he warned. ’’You better not cause any trouble, if you’re good, I’ll return you to your homeland after I take Avidia.’’

After forging the uneasy alliance, the Demons nodded in agreement, their eyes glinting with a mix of wariness and resolve as they stepped through the portal. On the other side, the ex-Alliance elders awaited.

Their weathered faces were etched with cautious hope as they extended a formal welcome. He observed the exchange with quiet satisfaction, a flicker of relief warming his chest at the fragile truce taking shape.

With this step forward secured, his focus shifted. Turning his gaze toward the distant horizon, where the crimson spires of the Duskfire Empire pierced the sky. He summoned his wings and took off.

’Let’s go deal with the empress personally,’ he thought excitedly.

Following that, Archer flew through the air as he soared toward the Fire Elf capital. As he crossed over the enemy lines, a barrage of Mana Blasts erupted from below, aimed directly at him.

His keen senses and agile maneuvers allowed him to weave through the deadly onslaught, each blast grazing close but failing to find its mark. After hours of relentless flight, the sprawling silhouette of the Fire Elf capital emerged on the horizon.

At the heart of the city stood the grand palace, its spires piercing the heavens, a beacon of both majesty and defiance. Undeterred by the danger, he angled his flight toward the palace and dodged a fresh wave of sudden attacks from the city’s defenses.

Mana-charged projectiles illuminated the sky, but his instincts guided him through the chaos. Tucking his wings, he dove toward the ground in a controlled descent, the rush of wind roaring in his ears.

As he neared the earth, his wings flared, balancing his trajectory with graceful finesse, and he was ready to confront the empress as he slammed into the garden of the palace, with dozens of Duskfire soldiers rushing toward him.

Archer let out a low chuckle, his confidence unshaken as he stood amidst the circle of Fire Elf soldiers. The tension in the air was palpable, but it shattered when a stern woman’s voice rang out from the grand palace ahead. ’’Do not harm the dragon! Bring him to me!’’

The words carried an undeniable authority, slicing through the murmurs of the soldiers like a blade. His violet eyes glinted with amusement, a faint smirk curling his lips as he regarded the Fire Elves surrounding him.

’’Well, you heard your empress,” he said, smirking at the surrounding soldiers. ’’Take me to her.’’

The commander, a grizzled Fire Elf with embers smoldering in his narrowed gaze, clenched his jaw in visible frustration. His hand twitched toward the hilt of his blade, but the empress’s command left no room for defiance.

With a curt gesture, he signaled his troops to stand down, though his expression betrayed the sting of being forced to comply. ’’This way,’’ he growled, turning sharply to lead toward the towering palace at the city’s heart.

As they moved, his wings vanished, his stride relaxed yet purposeful, exuded an air of confidence. The soldiers flanked him, their armor clinking softly, but none dared challenge the dragon who walked so boldly among them.

The palace loomed closer, its crimson spires aglow with fiery runes, and his smirk widened, sensing that the meeting with the empress would shift the tides of this conflict in ways none could yet foresee.

Archer admired the architecture until someone he hadn’t seen in a while appeared in front of him. Azrienna Duskfire, the Duskfire Princess, was standing there, beaming. ’’Congratulations on the birth of your daughter. I heard she’s a beautiful little girl.’’

His eyebrow rose, forcing the young woman to explain. ’’Empress Malakia Goldenmane told mother, I heard that lioness is loving Draconia and even has a mansion on the island thanks to your wife Nala.’’

’’Thank you Azrienna,’’ he replied honestly. ’’Yes, Freya is gorgeous and takes after her mother Sia, just with my white hair.’’

When the Fire Elf heard this, her orange eyes widened in surprise as she questioned. ’’Is that a way for me to see her?’’

He nodded before raising his hand and creating a mana screen that showed him holding up the little princess. As Azrianna saw this, she started bouncing around. ’’She’s so pretty! Look at those big eyes, the way she looks at you is amazing!’’

Following that, the two of them continued talking with the Fire Elf until the soldiers led them into the place, when the young woman turned to the commander. ’’I’ll take him to mother, he won’t harm me?’’

She glanced at him with a knowing expression. ’’That’s right, ain’t it? You don’t plan on harming me, Arch?’’

’’No, Azrianna,’’ he answered, chuckling. ’’In fact, I’ve come here to make peace and bring Duskfire into the Draconia Empire.’’

When those words left his lips, all the soldiers stopped moving and went stiff as the Elf Princess giggled. ’’Oh, that’s surprising, the big bad dragon looking to make peace?’’

Azrienna’s orange eyes widened in shock. ’’Is this because of Freya? Has becoming a father mellowed you out?’’

Archer chuckled but nodded. ’’Partially, and I wanted to give you Fire Elves a chance before I march my armies into the Darkthorne Empire, after all, the lion people of Goldenmane joined and are now reaping the benefits.’’

The young woman’s eyes widened just as a shocked expression appeared on her face as she questioned. ’’Benefits?’’

’’Would you like to see it for yourself?’’ he offered.

’’In time yes,’’ she answered. ’’I have stuff to do in the empire, or what’s left of it, thanks to you.’’

He laughed before scratching the back of his head. ’’Sorry for that, but you elves attacked me first. Enough of that, it’s in the past, I’m here to speak with your mother to put a stop to the fighting.’’

When Azrianna heard this, she nodded in agreement. ’’That’s for the best, I think she hates the ongoing war and would love to put a stop to it.’’

Following this, the two of them continued speaking while walking through the palace as the Fire Elf soldiers were following behind. He found it amusing as they could truly do nothing to him if he were to attack.

After ten minutes, they arrived outside massive metal doors where three soldiers stood outside causing them to open it. Once inside, he finally saw Embera Duskfire, the empress whom he had been fighting against.

The Empress stood on a throne on the opposite end of a hall, an imposing figure radiating both elegance and strength. Her long orange hair cascaded over her shoulders like a river of flame, catching the light of the palace’s flickering torches.

Her large, luminous eyes, the same color as her hair, gleamed with a piercing intensity that seemed to see through to his very core. She was a vision of mature beauty, her features sharp yet softened by an air of regal wisdom.

Her physique, however, spoke of a warrior’s life forged by battle, paired with a commanding presence accentuated by her ample chest. Clad in armor that shimmered with enchanted runes, she exuded the aura of a seasoned combatant.

A knowing expression played across her face, her lips curving faintly as if she held secrets untold, sizing him up with a gaze that was equal parts challenge and intrigue. Just then, Azrianna spoke up. ’’Mother, this is Archer Wyldheart, the White Dragon whom we’ve been fighting against.’’

His keen eyes tracked the Empress as she rose from her throne, her movements graceful yet imbued with the quiet strength of a seasoned ruler. A warm, knowing smile spread across her face.

’’It’s a pleasure to meet you,’’ she said, her voice rich and resonant. ’’I am Embera Duskfire, Empress of the Fire Elves. Tell me, is it true that you’ve come to our capital seeking peace?’’

Archer met her gaze, his expression steady and resolute, the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. ’’Yes,’’ he replied, his tone calm but firm. ’’Your realm is smaller, hemmed in by the Alliance’s demands. They’re likely pressuring you to funnel more of your soldiers into their ever-hungry armies, bleeding your people dry for their cause.’’