Mystic Calling：Stone of Glory
Chapter 428: I know we will

Chapter 428: I know we will

Meanwhile...

Grand Duke Fiesto took a deep breath and let out an awkward chuckle. "Sir, to be honest, I have no idea who this Astharel is. I didn’t quite catch what you were saying earlier, so..."

"You do realize there’s no point in pretending, right?" Ethan said with a faint smile, his tone calm but firm.

Fiesto’s face stiffened at that—but after a moment, he sighed, his expression turning bitter. "So there’s really no other way, is there? Honestly, I don’t understand why Astharel would side with you. If that’s true, neither the Greenwave Empire nor the Tidesworn will ever let him walk away from this. Unless..."

He paused, eyes narrowing as he stared at Ethan. "Unless you’ve got someone backing you—someone powerful enough that even the Tidesworn wouldn’t dare retaliate."

Ethan just smiled again, not confirming or denying it. Instead, he smoothly shifted the conversation.

"There’s something else I’m not sure you’re aware of..."

"The Grand Duke of Umagral, Opriston, has been secretly gathering Regnar XI, the Jewel King Astharel, and Grand Duke Zurei. Their goal? To help Maelthorak launch an attack on Emerald Castle."

"What... what!?"

"Sea King Maelthorak?!"

Fiesto’s eyes widened, his whole body tensing as he fell silent.

Ethan didn’t stop there. His voice remained calm, almost casual. "Word is, Maelthorak’s been seriously wounded. That’s why he’s relying on Opriston to orchestrate this. But have you noticed something? Blazeblade Kingdom isn’t part of their plan. Know why? Because they’ve already cut you out. They don’t trust you."

Fiesto’s gaze flickered, his voice low and uncertain. "Even so... that’s not enough reason for me to betray the Greenwave Empire, is it?" He looked at Ethan, eyes searching. "I know full well the Empire doesn’t trust Blazeblade. This whole ’Five Sea Kingdoms’ alliance? It’s a façade. Truth is, we’re just a tool—something the Empire uses to keep the others in check. But even so, that’s where our value lies."

"Aligning ourselves with the Greenwave Empire, even the Tidesworn... using their power to grow stronger, and paying a price for it—that’s just how the game works, isn’t it?"

"You’re not wrong," Ethan nodded, meeting his gaze. "But what if I told you they’ve already decided to abandon Blazeblade? Would you still feel the same way?"

Fiesto’s expression shifted instantly.

"Abandon us? Why?"

"What makes you say that?!"

Ethan leaned in slightly, voice still calm. "Let me ask you this—if Opriston’s plan succeeds, what do you think he stands to gain from Maelthorak?"

That hit home.

Fiesto’s face changed completely. Astharel had once called him an old fox—and it wasn’t just flattery. The man was sharp.

Ethan had only needed to nudge him, and he’d already pieced it together.

"You’re saying... if their plan works, Umagral Kingdom will rise with Maelthorak’s backing—maybe even swallow up the entire Five Sea Kingdoms?" Fiesto’s eyes locked onto Ethan, his voice low and tense.

"Thundervale, Storm, Gemspire—they’re all in on this. Even if they don’t get the glory, they’ll at least get a seat at the table. So if Umagral takes over, they’ll still have a future. But you?" Ethan’s tone was cool, almost pitying. "You’ve already been written off. When the time comes, do you really think the Greenwave Empire—or Maelthorak—will lift a finger for you?"

"And you know how it works. Once a tool outlives its usefulness... it’s just dead weight. Isn’t that right, Grand Duke Fiesto?"

Fiesto stared at Ethan for a long moment.

Then, like the strength had drained from his body, he slumped slightly, his voice hollow. "If I’m not mistaken... your real target isn’t the Five Sea Kingdoms at all. It’s Sea King Maelthorak, isn’t it?"

Ethan froze for a second.

Truth be told, he hadn’t expected Grand Duke Fiesto to figure it out so quickly.

But after a brief pause, he nodded. "You’re right. Maelthorak is a serious threat. If I want to eliminate the danger completely, I have no choice but to take him out."

"But... if you really do kill Sea King Maelthorak, the Tidesworn faction won’t just sit back and let it slide!" Fiesto pressed, his voice rising slightly. "Have you already figured out how you’re going to deal with their retaliation?"

...

Ethan just smiled.

Then, in that same calm, almost indifferent tone, he said, "Grand Duke Fiesto, to be honest, there are some things I don’t bother overthinking."

"Besides, the Tidesworn are already getting squeezed from both sides by the Inferno and Fortress factions. They’re barely keeping themselves afloat. Do you really think they have the time or energy to come after me right now?"

Fiesto opened his mouth to respond—but in the end, he said nothing.

Because deep down, he knew Ethan was right.

With both the Inferno and Fortress factions closing in, even a major power like the Tidesworn had no choice but to keep their heads down. And losing a Sea King in the middle of a faction war?

That’s just the cost of doing business.

In a war of this scale, people die. That’s the reality. Even Overlords aren’t safe—if the tide turns against them, they fall like anyone else. So what’s a Sea King in the grand scheme of things?

The thought left Fiesto with a strange mix of emotions.

Maybe... maybe it was time to take a gamble.

He clenched his jaw, eyes flickering with uncertainty, clearly torn.

But before he could speak, another voice cut in.

The Cyclops King, Doregar, stepped forward, his single eye fixed on Ethan. "Lord of Emerald Castle," he said, his deep voice steady but edged with tension, "forgive my bluntness—but I have to ask. The fact that you’re telling us all this now... does it mean we no longer have the option to say no?"

The moment those words left Doregar’s mouth, Grand Duke Fiesto visibly flinched. His whole body tensed, and he snapped his head up, eyes locked onto Ethan with a sharp, almost panicked glare.

At the same time, Ethan paused for a beat—then gave a calm, almost casual smile.

"My plan can’t be exposed," he said evenly. "So if you choose to say no... then we go to war."

"...What?" Fiesto’s face went pale, the last shred of hope draining from his eyes.

So there really was no choice.

"Then tell me this," Doregar pressed, his voice low and steady. "What are your odds of winning? I mean, in a direct fight against Sea King Maelthorak."

"I don’t know," Ethan said with a shrug, still smiling. "But I have them."

He reached out and gave Seraphina a light pat on the shoulder, then turned to glance at the figures standing not far behind him—Cicero, Kyros, Auremax, and the entire Gold Dragon army. His eyes gleamed with fierce confidence.

"With them by my side, I believe we can win. No—I know we will."

"Master..." Seraphina’s voice trembled slightly, her eyes shining with emotion.

Then—

"ROAR!!"

She threw her head back and let out a thunderous roar, her dragon cry splitting the sky like a crack of lightning.

ROAR! ROAR! ROAR!

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM-BOOM-BOOM—

And she wasn’t alone.

In the next instant, Cicero, Kyros, Auremax, and the entire Gold Dragon legion lifted their heads and roared in unison. The sound was deafening—an overwhelming, primal chorus of power that shook the heavens.

The sheer force of it hit like a tidal wave.

The pressure that followed was suffocating—an invisible weight that crashed down on everyone present. Especially the Blazeblade Kingdom’s delegation, who suddenly felt like the sky itself was falling. Like a meteor had slammed into the earth and left them paralyzed beneath it.

They couldn’t move.

They couldn’t breathe.

All they could do was stand there, crushed under the raw, terrifying might of the dragons—feeling, for the first time, what true despair really meant.

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