First Legendary Dragon: Starting With The Limitless System-Chapter 320: Strange Man

Orion stared intently at the fragmented mural, his dual-colored eyes narrowing with deep contemplation.

The scattered remnants of stone lay before him, painted fragments depicting a vague, severed or broken form that defied easy identification.

It was difficult to discern whether this mural had been intentionally destroyed by someone attempting to conceal a truth, or if something entirely different and perhaps more catastrophic had occurred to break it apart.

He knelt briefly, picking up one of the broken shards, running his thumb gently across the cracked, faded paint. Nyss stood quietly beside him, her calm eyes fixed carefully upon the mural, seemingly lost in her own thoughtful considerations.

Finally, after a long pause, Orion released a quiet sigh, placing the fragment gently back onto the floor. "We can’t determine anything concrete here," he murmured softly, standing up again and brushing the dust from his fingertips.

His tone was tinged with mild frustration, reflecting the complexity of their findings. "Perhaps we’ll need to personally investigate the tower when it appears. Only then might we discover the truth behind these images."

Nyss softly nodded her head in agreement, her voice quietly thoughtful, "But according to Duke Varian, the tower won’t open for another week."

Orion gave a gentle nod, acknowledging her reminder. Turning his gaze once more across the murals lining the wall, he studied them for a final, lingering moment, committing their image to memory.

"Indeed, that’s what Duke Varian said. We’ll have to wait and see how events unfold. I also want to know if the murals here are related to that tower or not."

Nyss tilted her head slightly, silently agreeing with his assessment. After a brief glance, the two turned smoothly away from the murals, walking side by side toward the grand doors of the hall.

Their footsteps echoed softly, blending with the solemn silence of the chamber, as the massive doors opened smoothly to allow their exit.

***

Elsewhere, in stark contrast to the calm contemplation of Orion and Nyss, the Royal Palace of the Lionkin people was immersed in oppressive tension.

Inside an imposing throne room, extravagant yet overshadowed by an ominous atmosphere, a strange and powerful figure sat casually upon the Lionkin King’s throne.

His presence was commanding, his appearance distinctively alien compared to the kneeling Lionkin elders and King who prostrated fearfully before him.

He was tall, pale-skinned, with unnaturally luminous eyes, exuding a dark and authoritative aura that overwhelmed the Lionkin nobles.

The man on the throne heaved a long, weary sigh, leaning back with a bored expression, his chin propped lightly upon his fist as he looked at the submissive Lionkin.

His voice carried a tone of quiet impatience and latent arrogance as he spoke softly, seemingly to himself, yet loud enough to echo throughout the hall.

"Haaa... only three more days remain," he murmured thoughtfully, a cold gleam appearing in his eyes. "Seven more days, and finally, I’ll have the chance to attempt that trial. This lower world has consumed far too much of my precious time. Yet... if I can just claim that prize..."

His voice trailed off ominously, his gaze drifting down to the fearful, trembling Lionkin beneath him. His indifferent expression briefly flickered with annoyance before quickly smoothing into calmness once more.

He straightened, sitting upright upon the throne, his voice cold and calm, "As promised, fulfill your role by defeating those troublesome Tigerkin, and your race, your young, shall survive. Afterward, you’re free to rule or ruin this pitiful world as you wish. I have no further interest in it."

At his declaration, the Lionkin kneeling before him visibly stiffened, their bodies trembling slightly in suppressed fury and desperation.

Yet none dared to openly protest, painfully aware that their young were held hostage, captives used ruthlessly as leverage by this cold, foreign entity who had dominated their proud kingdom.

The Lionkin King, once proud and strong, now helpless and humiliated, lowered his head further, teeth gritted, voice quivering with reluctant submission, "As you command. We shall fulfill our part."

The strange man watched the Lionkin closely, entirely indifferent to their hidden resentment and despair. To him, their feelings were meaningless—only the end results mattered.

Behind him stood ten powerful warriors of his own kind, all similarly pale-skinned, their forms radiating dangerous, ruthless strength.

Their eyes, filled with disdainful amusement, silently mocked the Lionkin beneath them, clearly viewing them as little more than disposable pawns in their master’s grand plan.

Slowly, the strange man rose from the throne, his presence immediately drawing everyone’s attention.

His piercing eyes gazed upward, seemingly through the high ceilings, staring toward the heavens as he murmured softly, almost mockingly, "The outsiders from other worlds have already begun arriving. I wonder how many fools will meet their end this time around."

He paused briefly, a dark, chilling smile touching his lips. Lowering his gaze back down to the kneeling Lionkin, his voice turned icy, commanding and authoritative, "Prepare your army, and muster every last ounce of your strength. This will be the final battle—the end of this pointless war."

Without waiting for acknowledgment, he turned abruptly and strode toward a side exit, the ten warriors smoothly falling into step behind him, their footsteps resonating loudly in the oppressive silence that followed.

Left alone in the throne room, the Lionkin nobles and their King slowly rose to their feet, their faces pale and haunted.

Quiet, bitter murmurs filled the chamber, expressions filled with despair, anger, and frustration. Yet they all knew there was no choice, no option but to follow this alien’s commands, even if it meant destruction and death.

Outside the palace, dark clouds gathered ominously in the sky, swirling heavily as though mirroring the turmoil and despair within the hearts of the Lionkin below. The final battle loomed near, and the fate of their world would soon be decided.

***

Outside the towering gates of the Felian capital, Orion and his companions sat quietly inside a spacious, ornate carriage that bore the crest of Duke Varian’s house.

The air inside the carriage was tense, thickened by anticipation and unease. Gentle rays of morning sunlight pierced through the velvet curtains, casting pale patterns upon the faces of the group seated within.

Orion gently pushed aside the curtains, his eyes gazing thoughtfully out into the gathering outside. The plains around the capital were no longer calm and peaceful as before.

Instead, they were crowded with countless warriors and soldiers preparing for war. Hundreds of banners flew proudly, each belonging to various noble houses, armies, and even foreign groups who had arrived from other worlds. Orion’s eyes narrowed slightly as he observed the immense diversity among them.

Not far from their position, he noted several groups clearly not belonging to either the Tigerkin or Lionkin races.

Strange humanoid beings stood in clusters, some bearing feathered wings, others with scaled skin or exotic, glowing markings.

Orion felt intrigued but restrained his curiosity, understanding that these outsiders had likely arrived through their own portals and had their own motives.

Yet amongst the countless strangers, he caught sight of only one other human group, numbering merely five. They stood near another carriage emblazoned with the insignia of a different Duke’s house, clearly already aligned with their own faction.