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Chapter 5: Regime Change

As Doomwing neared the capital, he realised why the place had looked so familiar in Jarod's memories. He'd been there before. In fact, he'd visited it regularly toward the end of the Sixth Age.

The capital was a hodgepodge of buildings. The largest and finest of the buildings were clearly remnants from the Sixth Age, worn and weathered but still magnificent, a testament to the heights humanity had reached before the Sixth Catastrophe. Much of the magic that had once protected them had faded, most likely because the techniques required to maintain them had been forgotten centuries ago. In keeping with Elerion's tastes in architecture, the buildings made extensive use of sweeping arches, ornate pillars, and slender, soaring towers.

Frankly, Doomwing had always thought it all looked a bit pretentious, but he was a dragon. His kind had never put much stock in architecture because they had never needed buildings to shelter themselves. Their scales were proof against even the most inclement weather, and the fire that dwelt within them shielded them from whatever cold the world could muster. To a dragon, the only thing that mattered was defensibility. A stout fortress with many soldiers, mages, and weapons to defend it was far more pleasing to a dragon's eye than any appeal to aesthetics.

Elerion had called him a boor, and Marcus had agreed with him. Not that it mattered. Dragons had never really believed in democracy. Instead, they prized strength and power. By that metric, Doomwing was clearly in the right because he was stronger than both of his friends. Kagami had agreed with him although he suspected that she had only done that to be obnoxious. It was just like her to say something outrageous to provoke a reaction from Elerion. She was probably the only person in the world who could look at the High King and call him adorable.

It was a pity that he'd been forced to kill her later although, by that point, she hadn't really been Kagami anymore.

The other buildings in the capital were less impressive although there were clear signs of progression. The buildings that were about two centuries old were mostly made of bricks, and there was little to praise about either their strength or their appearance. However, the newest buildings, some of which appeared to have been made in the last decade or two, showed commendable masonry work, and there were spells of the second and third order woven into the stone. It was far from impressive, but the improvement was nevertheless worthy of praise.

However, what truly drew his eye was the large, almost perfectly circular lake beside the capital.

He could remember making that lake. Elerion had whined about not having a suitable lake where he could build a holiday palace, and Doomwing had gotten so sick of his whinging that he'd used his power to carve out a circular crater and fill it with water. Naturally, Kagami had berated him for using his power so recklessly, but that hadn't stopped her from immediately seizing control of the construction crews that Elerion had dispatched. Since he was basically building the palace for her, she saw no reason not to oversee construction personally.

It was a shame she'd blown it up later.

Still, it was nice to see the lake again. He'd almost forgotten it. No. He'd made an effort not to think about it because of all the memories that came with it. There had been a lot of good memories, but there had been plenty of bad ones too. He could still remember the arguments they'd had about what sort of fish they should add to the lake. In the end, he'd let the others decide. It wasn't as though anything they could add would be large enough to sate his appetite since anything big enough would probably eat everything else they put in the lake. Oh well. If he wanted a whale or a kraken, he could always fly to the sea. It wasn't far, not for him.

As he circled over the capital, he realised that the city was in uproar... and not because of him. Soldiers were clashing on the streets, and the large complex of buildings that Jarod's memories told him was the palace was currently on fire. Were they under attack? No. The soldiers were wearing similar uniforms and armour, which meant it was probably an uprising of some sort. But what could have caused it? His lips curled. He had felt the use of communication magic while flying over the border. Being told that a giant dragon was headed toward the capital might have been the impetus that prospective rebels needed. After all, if the king had angered the aforementioned giant dragon, then clearly he was incompetent and needed to be removed.

How amusing. Doomwing was almost tempted to let the whole thing play out, but if he wanted to be a decent emperor, then he'd need decent minions. It wouldn't do if the incompetent king survived at the expense of more competent subordinates.

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Princess Antaria cut down another member of the royal guard and looked around to see if her uncle was still alive. Their attempt to oust her father had not gone as they'd planned. For all of his reckless ambition and greed, her father's paranoia had served him well. The twenty members of the royal guard that followed him everywhere had been accompanied by a further thirty, all of them hidden using an artefact that she hadn't known about. Throw in the swarms of regular soldiers and mages her father had at his disposal, and the elite strike force that she and her uncle had counted on to quickly take him into custody had suddenly found itself besieged on all sides.

At some point, some fool had also set fire to the palace. Not only were they badly outnumbered but they were also operating on a time limit. So far, the fire was confined to the eastern wing, but it wouldn't be long before it spread. Worse, the head of the royal guard was a skilled tactician, and he had been slowly but surely pushing their forces toward the fire. They had called for reinforcements from their supporters in the city, but the last she'd heard, they were currently tied up fighting loyalists in the streets.

"Antaria!"

She turned and breathed a sigh of relief. Her uncle was still alive although his armour was dented in several places, and his left arm hung limp by his side. "Uncle."

Another royal guardsman rushed toward her, and she called on her dwindling reserves of magic. The third-order fire spell formed more slowly than she'd like, and it had little of the power she'd been able to muster when the battle had begun. However, it was enough to throw her opponent off balance, and she drove her sword through the visor of his helmet. The strike wasn't perfect, but the enchanted edge of the weapon let her pierce through the steel of his helmet.

She yanked her sword free and bit back a curse as more soldiers poured into the hallway. "Uncle, we are losing."

"I am well aware of that," he said. "But we both knew this was a possibility when we decided to make our move."

"This was our best chance," Antaria replied. "With a dragon on the way, I thought we'd be able to catch my father off guard. Who would have known he'd be more worried about potential rebellion than a mile-long reptile with revenge on its mind?"

"True. But my brother has always been paranoid about treachery since that's how he took the throne in the first place." Her uncle sighed. "Get out of here. We're boxed in, and it's only a matter of time before we're overrun. You know all the secret passages in the palace. You'll be able to get out. Flee the city and try to rally more support. If you're lucky, the dragon will burn this place to the ground, and you won't even have to fight your father for control."

"I'd still have to face my brothers," Antaria replied. "And they are older and have more support."

"They're a lot like your father. I can see them being foolish enough to challenge the dragon."

"Uncle..."

"Just go." He chuckled. "Your father hates me. The only reason I'm still alive is because he knows I'm better at running a kingdom than he is. As long as I was useful, he was willing to tolerate me. But now? Not a chance. I'll kill as many of them as I can before I die, and I might even get lucky and kill him too." He clenched his right fist. "I've never been much of a fighter anyway, but I do know a spell or two that might be useful here."

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"We can both get out," Antaria insisted. "And -"

The ground shook violently, and the combatants glanced about warily. Had one of them done that? Was it an earthquake? Was there a third group -

The ceiling came apart. No. It was torn off and cast aside like a piece of kindling. Gleaming golden eyes appeared above them, and ruby and sapphire scales gleamed in the firelight. It was the dragon.

"Good evening," the dragon drawled, and his voice was like thunder rolling across the plains. "Am I interrupting?"

Her father, who had emerged, most likely to watch her and her uncle die, pointed a finger at the beast. "What are you all standing around for? Kill him! Kill the dragon!"

To their credit, the royal guard moved to obey. A single, titanic claw came down, and a dozen of them were squashed flat in an instant. The others stopped and stared, and her father made a sound somewhere between a squeal and a scream. She would have laughed if the situation hadn't been so dire. She hadn't even known he could make a sound like that.

A burst of power rippled outward, and the fire raging toward them died. The dragon smiled, and Antaria almost fainted at the sight of how large his teeth were.

"So..." The dragon's gaze flicked to her father. "You must be the king who thought it was a good idea to send soldiers to attack the people who live in my territory."

"..." Her father tried to speak, but no words would come out.

"Those people owed me tribute... tribute, which your soldiers destroyed." The dragon's eyes narrowed. "You have stolen from me, and I do not tolerate thieves."

"I am a king," her father finally managed to say. "You have no power over me."

"You think your title gives you power?" The dragon laughed, and the sound of it almost knocked Antaria off her feet. "Oh, how amusing. Titles don't give you power, little human. No. Power is what allows you to win titles. How do you think Elerion the Valiant became High King? It was power, pure, overwhelming power. That was why the other humans knelt to him, why they offered him their crowns, their daughters, and their kingdoms. And it was why he was never so stupid as to demand my obedience because he knew that for all his power, I could still crush him like a bug."

Her father snarled. "You overestimate yourself dragon." He smiled craftily. "I was warned of your arrival, and I have prepared a suitable greeting for you." He raised his voice. "Now! Do as I command! Strike down the dragon!"

Mages emerged from hidden passages, and they carried with them artefacts taken from the vaults deep below the palace. Anataria's eyes widened. Those were ancient artefacts, amongst the most powerful the kingdom had. Her father had used those to slay a dragon in the past.

"You're going to try to kill me with those?" The dragon rolled his eyes. "I'm insulted."

The artefacts and the mages holding them exploded in vivid bursts of blood and gore.

Her father stared.

"Trinkets and toys," the dragon said. "They are so worthless I wouldn't even add them to my hoard. Now... what shall I do with you?"

Her father dropped to his knees. "Spare me, mighty dragon! Spare me, and I will hand over my kingdom and my crown!"

It was cowardly, but Antaria couldn't blame him. The dragon had destroyed some of the kingdom's greatest treasures with ease, and he was so massive that she couldn't imagine anything being able to harm him. In the face of such overwhelming might, what could her father do but kneel? He had delusions of grandeur, but he also enjoyed living. Of course, if the dragon spared him, she had no doubt that her father would eventually try to stab him in the back the second he thought he could win.

"If I give you an order, will you obey?" Amusement filled the dragon's voice.

"Of course," her father said. "Merely speak the word, and I shall do as you ask."

"Hmm... very well." The dragon smiled again. "Then die."

"What?"

The dragon brought his claw down again, and thus passed Antaria's father, the king who dared to call himself Elerion after their great ancestor. The dragon raised his claw and then flicked it the same way a man might flick his hand after squashing a fly.

"How pathetic," the dragon said. "The real Elerion wouldn't have knelt there. He would have died fighting, as futile as it would have been. Some men, after all, do not have it in them to kneel, while others will sacrifice anything and everything just to live another day." His golden eyes snapped to Antaria and her uncle. "I am told that the king had a younger brother who wasn't completely hopeless at running a kingdom. Is that you?"

Her uncle gulped and nodded. "Yes, mighty dragon. That would be me."

"Good. You are now king."

"... what?" her uncle blurted.

"I am taking over this kingdom. From this day forward, I will be Dragon Emperor Doomwing. This kingdom belongs to me now, and it will not be long before I add others to it. You will rule it in my name as king."

"I... uh... okay?" her uncle replied.

"Serve me well, and you will be richly rewarded. Serve me poorly, and you will die like your predecessor." Doomwing bared his teeth again. "Your name is Enarion, isn't it?" Her uncle nodded slowly. "And you have great interest in science, magic, and lore of the past, do you not?" He nodded again. "I am a dragon of the First Age."

"The First Age?" Her uncle took a step forward. "Then... you have scrolls and books from the past?"

"I have all the books and scroll you could possibly hope for. Serve me to the best of your ability, and I will allow you to read copies of some of them. In fact, I will even grant you access to certain texts to ensure you can serve me better."

"What... what do you wish for me to do?" her uncle asked.

"I have been told that you are responsible for a large part of this kingdom's recent prosperity. I am a dragon. What I wish for is tribute. The more prosperous this kingdom is, the more tribute it will be able to give me. Therefore, your task is to guide this kingdom, my kingdom, to even greater prosperity."

Her uncle took off his helmet, and she could see that there were tears glistening in the corner of his eyes. Who could blame him? The dragon had spared them and instead of demanding they hand over people to be devoured, he had instead ordered her uncle to lead the kingdom to greater prosperity. "I will do as you have asked, great Doomwing."

"Call me Dragon Emperor Doomwing."

"Of course. Dragon Emperor Doomwing." Her uncle made a face. "But there are those who will oppose me. My brother had sons. They will not doubt try to overthrow me."

"Kindly inform them that any and all attacks on you will be viewed as attacks on me." Doomwing's eyes gleamed with the promise of violence. "And there will be no second chances. Only death. They can cooperate, or they can die." He glanced at the remaining members of the royal guard, as well as the soldiers who had, until Doomwing's arrival, been doing their best to kill them. "That goes for everybody else too."

The guardsmen and soldiers immediately fell to their knees and began to pledge their loyalty. It was completely understandable too.

"I also require one other thing," Doomwing said.

"What is it, dragon emperor?"

"Her." Doomwing pointed at Antaria. "I'll be needing her."

Antaria's eyes widened. "Me?" she croaked. "What do you need me for?"

"What does anyone need a princess for?" Doomwing asked.

"Um..." Antaria couldn't help but think of all the stories she'd read about dragons and what they did to princesses. "I..." She looked at her uncle for help. He stared back at her and shrugged helplessly. "Are you going to eat me?" she asked at last.

"..." Doomwing tilted his head to the side. "You're absolutely tiny. You wouldn't even be a snack. No. I'm not going to eat you. I need someone to help manage the villages in my territory. From now on, that's going to be you."

"Oh."