Devouring Dragon Heir

The march of Riverdale's forces did not go unnoticed. Scouts and riders returned to Lionhart daily with reports of dark banners moving steadily closer.

The death legion, with its endless numbers and dreadful reputation, walked in disciplined lines. Alongside them marched Riverdale's human army, a much smaller but organized force.

The sound of war drums carried across the valleys, and with each beat panic spread deeper into Lionhart.

The most unsettling fact was not just the approach of this army but the timing. Lionhart had already been struck internally by the Messenger only days earlier.

Noble estates were burned, supply stores destroyed, and whispers of betrayal filled every corner of the kingdom. Now, before the smoke of those attacks had even cleared, a full war was upon them.

The Zero Division had done its work well. Their methods were invisible but effective. They seeded fear in the public and confusion among the ranks of the army. Their illusions made enemies see death monsters where none existed.

Their spies carried forged orders that redirected soldiers, leaving whole stretches of the city undefended. By the time Riverdale's banners appeared on the horizon, Lionhart's morale was already broken.

Among the common people, hope was gone. Families who once filled the streets now shut themselves inside their homes. Shops closed early, markets grew silent, and even the city guards lowered their spears instead of standing tall at the gates. Fear spread faster than any messenger could ride.

The soldiers, who should have been Lionhart's backbone, were the first to falter. At first, it was small acts of hesitation. A guard who chose not to report for duty.

A squad that marched a little slower. A unit that pretended not to hear the drum call. Within days, entire battalions were failing to assemble.

Empty posts and abandoned tents marked the breaking of discipline.

Desertion followed. Soldiers began slipping away at night.

Some left without weapons so as not to draw suspicion, carrying only food in their packs. Others used secret pathways through the countryside known only to locals.

Word spread that the Messenger's army could not be stopped, that death monsters rose from the corpses of the fallen, and no shield line could hold them back.

Many believed that hiding on a farm or swearing loyalty to Riverdale was safer than standing in the doomed army of Lionhart.

Roads and villages filled with men carrying small bundles, walking away from war.

Meanwhile, the nobles acted to save themselves. Messages were written in secret, bribes and gifts were sent to generals, and threats were made to secure survival.

No unity existed among them. Each family thought only of its own safety. A few generals who had sworn loyalty to the king were quietly bought.

Some opened gates at night; others altered patrol routes, leaving roads unguarded. Bit by bit, the army that was meant to defend Lionhart became unreliable.

The king, who should have been the figure of strength, found his authority slipping away. Inside his own palace, he was forced to defer to the visiting princes of the four great empires. They commanded their own councils and their own armies, and the king could not move a single patrol without their permission. Nobles, seeing where power lay, began siding openly with the foreign princes. The royal council turned into a battlefield of whispers and private deals, while the king himself sat silent and sweating, his words carrying little weight.

In the council meetings, division was obvious. One faction demanded an immediate show of strength. They wanted to rally the allied armies of the four empires, march out, and crush Riverdale with overwhelming numbers. Another group argued the opposite.

They believed negotiation was the only path left, that opening talks with Riverdale could prevent total destruction. The king, caught between them, could only stammer and sweat. The truth was that his voice no longer decided anything. When one of his trusted captains admitted openly that he was following the orders of a foreign prince rather than his sovereign, the chamber fell into shouting, blame, and fear.

While the nobles argued, the Zero Division moved silently within the city. Lyssandra and her team poisoned wells with rare plants that caused stomach pain and weakness for a day or two.

They spread rumors in taverns and marketplaces that the gods themselves had sent the messenger and that if the kingdom resisted him, drought and plague would follow.

They crafted forged letters claiming certain gates were unsafe and sowed panic among peasants, who abandoned their towns and clogged the roads.

Zero Division agents even replaced minor palace guards. Dressed in the same armor, they carried false orders, shifted guard rotations, and left the royal road unguarded during crucial hours. Captains who tried to investigate found themselves chasing phantoms.

When they captured supposed "messengers," they found only men carrying false addresses, leading to empty rooms.

The assassinations came next. Zero Division selected smugglers and abusive minor nobles as targets, leaving their bodies in public places with notes that read: "Judged by the Messenger." Some villagers celebrated, believing justice had finally arrived.

Others were terrified, knowing that an unseen hand could strike anyone. Relief and fear mixed in dangerous measure, keeping the people off balance.

Civil unrest grew. Food shortages became critical after storehouses were burned. People crowded the markets at dawn with sacks of coins, desperate to buy whatever remained.

Violence broke out when supplies ran low. In one incident, a mob attacked a noble's servant distributing grain to soldiers.

They accused him of stealing food for the princes. He was dragged from his cart and beaten while soldiers stood by. Some even joined the mob. That act marked the complete collapse of trust between people and their rulers.

Temples became battlegrounds of belief. Some priests called the Messenger a demon punishing human pride.

Others claimed he was a savior chosen by the gods to cleanse the corrupt. Their sermons reached the people, splitting communities further. Some gathered at the gates demanding the king step down and open talks with Riverdale.

Others armed themselves into militias, vowing to protect their homes if neither king nor princes could do so. In just one week, the city of Lionhart changed from a place of festivals and trade to a nest of rebellion, fear, and killings.

At dawn the next day, the crisis deepened. Officers burst into the council chamber, demanding to be heard. The chief advisor silenced the shouting nobles and listened.

His face went pale as the officers reported a full battalion stationed at the eastern border had been wiped out during the night. Villagers at sunrise saw black shapes moving across the camp, and the few survivors fled into the hills, half-mad with terror.

The king asked for reinforcements, but the princes of the three southern empires refused. They claimed their forces were still reorganizing after the Messenger's last attack. The refusal hung in the air like a death sentence.

The kingdom's defenses were crumbling, soldiers were deserting, nobles were betraying, and the enemy was only hours away.

The methods of Klaus had been so lethal that in only 2 days Lionhart stood on the edge of collapse.

-------------

The eastern border was finally reinforced with what disorganized army Lionheart had. Even after having a strong army, it was useless to maintain them right now since there were no rivers or water bodies where the navy could be used against Riverdale.

This finally led to reassignment of the navy personnel as land soldiers to cover the gaps.

The imperial armies were only stationed at the capital, leaving the rest of the kingdom to fend for themselves.

The princes had made a decision to let the Lionheartedly tire out the Riverdale army and then send reinforcements after a few days so that they could easily sweep through the tired Riverdale army and take the credit.

Weirdly, in their minds, the disappearance of the fourth prince didn't worry them much; for them, it must be the work of the brainwashed duke, who they had heard reports about was now serving the messenger under the influence of the messenger's skill.

But even now they were three transcendents, so as long as they remained together and looked out for each other's backs, there was nothing to worry about.

"But what if the falcon prince has also already been converted into a servant by the messenger?" The Obsidian Empire's prince asked.

"What is there to worry about? The duke was a seasoned warrior, but the fourth prince was a spoiled brat built into a transcendent with the help of medicines and elixirs. I don't think he will be much of a bother. Also, we are still three, while they have two transcendents, so there is nothing to worry about."

The prince of the Titan empire spoke with an unshakeable confidence, as if he ruled life and death on the battlefield.

"Still, the fourth prince was assassinated under our noses, so we have to be careful," the prince of the Phoenix Empire said.

"I agree with him; this messenger is too unsettling, and his skills and abilities are also special and unheard of in humans. The last time I heard about the ability to command an army of dead monsters was when I heard about that being from Father."

the obsidian empire's prince said as he shivered just thinking about that being who could command death on his fingertips.

"Oh, you mean that being?"

"Yes, one of the ten strongest demon lords, the demon lord of death, Anubis."