Timeless Assassin - Chapter 983 The Dragon Empire's Decline
Chapter 983 The Dragon Empire’s Decline
(Planet Draconia, Moltherak’s POV)
Roughly one month after gaining access to Helmuth’s body, Moltherak finally made his way to Draconia, which was one of the only remaining Great Dragon Planets in the universe, which was ruled by the Dragon species alone.
*THRUMM*
*FSHHHHH*
Moltherak descended through the planet’s crimson skies in Helmuth’s stolen body, the atmosphere trembling as his presence pressed down upon the world like an ancient memory reawakening, as dragon cities carved into mountains and molten valleys stirred beneath him, sensing something they had not felt in thousands of years.
A God-King had returned.
However, unfortunately, the current ruler of Draconia did not understand that, as he foolishly came out of his palace roaring, his eyes locked on Moltherak, as he flapped his wings and took to the skies to challenge the ancient God.
“Begone from my planet intruder, or you shall feel the wrath of my magic.”
The Golden Dragon declared, as Moltherak merely scoffed at his threat like it meant nothing to him.
The Golden Dragon had ruled Draconia uncontested for over six centuries, and was only a step away from reaching Demi-God hood, making him a very powerful creature by conventional standards, however, in front of Moltherak, he wasn’t anything much.
As the ancient Red Dragon merely raised one hand, and snapped his fingers.
*Snap*
Before the Golden Dragon could even process what had happened, his body detonated mid-breath, scales, bone, blood, and mana exploding outward in a silent, horrifying bloom, as it scattered across the sky like molten stars before raining down upon the capital, as the shockwave flattened spires and sent elder dragons crashing into stone.
*CRASH*
Silence followed.
A suffocating, reverent silence.
“Oh great Berserker God Helmuth… why did you kill our King?”
The voice trembled, breaking through the stillness as a dragon elder lowered his massive head, his tone a mixture of fear, grief, and disbelief, as centuries of assumed hierarchy shattered in a single heartbeat.
However, Moltherak simply turned at the question, his eyes cold and unrecognising as he said-
“I am not the Berserker God Helmuth….. and I shall have the tongue of anyone who calls me that from here onwards.”
He declared, as his powerful voice boomed across the terrain, reaching places far and wide.
“I am the Terror of Galaxies. I am Moltherak, the Red Dragon King.”
The name alone sent a ripple through the gathered dragons.
“And I killed that imbecile,” Moltherak continued, his gaze sweeping across the assembly, “because of how poorly he governed my kin in my absence.”
There was no rage in his voice.
Only judgment.
“This planet stagnated. Our species diminished. Our dominion collapsed while you crowned incompetence and called it stability.”
He looked down at the remains scattered across the city.
“A ruler who presides over decay is no ruler at all.”
He said with contempt evident in his voice, as he slowly descended to the dead king’s palace, and took it by force as his own.
(A few days later, within the throne room)
Several days later, Moltherak sat upon the Dragon King’s throne.
The chamber was vast, carved from obsidian and gold-veined stone, its ceiling supported by colossal pillars shaped like coiled wyrms, as dozens of ancient dragons knelt below him with heads bowed low, their pride buried beneath the weight of the being now judging them.
“What happened?”
Moltherak’s voice echoed softly through the hall, yet every dragon felt it vibrate through their cores.
“Why did the most dominant species in the universe fall so low?”
He asked, his gaze drifting across the gathered Dragons slowly.
“It is my understanding that we now control less than three planets, and even that is generous, because apart from Draconia, there is not a single world ruled solely by dragonkind.”
He leaned forward slightly.
“Only three planets where dragons command more than half the land,” Moltherak continued. “And only seven planets across the entire universe where dragons still live, breed, and exist naturally.”
His eyes narrowed.
“In my prime, we ruled over a quarter of the universe.”
Silence stretched.
“So tell me,” Moltherak said quietly, “what went wrong in the three
thousand years following my banishment to the Time-Stilled Realm that reduced my brethren to this?”
He asked, as an ancient dragon stepped forward slowly, his scales dulled with age, his posture bent not from weakness but from shame.
“My lord,” the dragon began, his voice low and lose land to humans because they were stronger than us.”
Moltherak did not interrupt.
“we did
“We lost,” the dragon continued, “to the tool called technology.”
The words lingered.
“Humans perfected instant communication and safe spatial travel,” the elder explained, “allowing them to coordinate across worlds, summon reinforcements without delay, and wage war as a unified force, while we remained isolated, powerful yet scattered.”
He lowered his head further.
“One-on-one, a dragon fighting a human of equal tier would likely prevail,” he admitted. “But wars are not fought one-on-one.”
The hall remained silent.
“We had no safe means to call our kin across planets in moments of
need, while forcing them to travel through the fourth dimension
often led to entire legions being lost to the void”
The old dragon admitted painfully.
“We had no single army fighting under the same banner. No information networks. No cohesion. While humans crossed galaxies in massive spatial vessels as if distance itself meant nothing.”
His claws tightened against the stone floor.
“We did not lose battles…. We lost the race of innovation.”
He finished, as Moltherak absorbed the words with a quiet nod.
“Mmhmm…. What else?”
He asked, as another ancient dragon stepped forward.
“My lord,” he said, his voice heavy, “the second reason for our decline
was the absence of powerful Gods and leaders.”
Moltherak’s gaze flickered.
“After your banishment,” the dragon continued, “humanity produced
Gods who claimed dominion over vast territories, and at their height, fourteen such beings ruled the universe, until the Timeless Assassin
cut many of them down.”
A pause.
“Now half of them remain.”
He lowered his head.
“Without you, we simply did not have the capability to control vast
amounts of land, as our Elite warriors could not be everywhere at
once, and with time most of them fell to enemy hands while being outnumbered and out-thought.”
Moltherak leaned back slowly, the full picture now becoming clear in his head.
Technology and leadership.
These were the two major reasons that led to the Dragon species’s
decline, and it seemed like the modern Dragons were powerless to
reverse the flow of decay.
“So be it.”
Moltherak said in a low and final voice as the explanation finally
settled into place.
The past no longer mattered. Failure, stagnation, and decay were
nothing more than symptoms of a leaderless age, and that age had ended the moment he set foot on Draconia.
The dragons had not fallen because they were weak, nor because the
universe had turned against them, but because no one had been
strong enough to force it to bend.
*Step*
Moltherak rose from the throne slowly, his eyes looking past the row
of bowing underlings, as he thought about how from this day onward,
dragonkind would no longer drift, adapt, or endure…. But rather advance.
As this time, the universe would not remember dragons as relics of a forgotten era, but as the reckoning that followed it.
