Chapter 222: Journey Continues
The day finally came.
The skies above the Celestial Dragon Empire split open with storms of gold and crimson flame. Millions gathered across continents to witness the final clash—the Emperor of the Celestial Dragons against the reborn Progenitor.
The Emperor descended upon the battlefield clad in divine scales that gleamed like suns, his aura enough to shatter mountains. Behind him surged the imperial army, legions of dragon men roaring, their combined might able to erase kingdoms in a breath.
But before them stood Lilya, her figure slender, her eyes burning with the ancient fire of Tiamat’s bloodline. At her side was Igaris, calm and unshaken, his presence like an unyielding mountain.
Her army stretched like a sea across the horizon—beast tribes, freed dragonkin, mortals who had taken up arms for her cause, and warriors from worlds far beyond who swore allegiance to the Progenitor’s heir.
When the two sides clashed, the earth cracked apart. Skyfire rained down, seas overturned, and the battlefield itself became a broken scar across the world.
The Emperor unleashed his might, a roar that shook the heavens. Yet in that moment, Lilya transformed—her true form bursting forth. Wings that stretched across the horizon, scales glowing like stars, a presence that crushed every lesser dragon into submission. The Dragon Progenitor had returned.
"Your throne is no longer yours!" her voice thundered across creation.
The Emperor struck, claws like suns, yet Igaris met him, blade flashing with annihilating light. Every strike echoed with the fury of past regrets, as if he carved his own sins away. Together, Lilya and Igaris pressed forward.
The Emperor faltered beneath the weight of her bloodline. His scales cracked, his breath burned out, and his defiance shattered. With a final cry, Lilya’s jaws closed around him in her dragon form, her Progenitor’s flames incinerating him into nothing but ash.
Silence fell.
Then, as the Emperor’s banner collapsed, the world erupted into roars of triumph. The legions who once opposed her fell to their knees, their suppressed bloodlines unable to resist her dominion.
On that day, Lilya ascended the throne of the Celestial Dragon Empire, the Progenitor’s power flowing through her veins. The people hailed her as the true Empress of the Dragons, their savior and ruler.
And at her side stood Igaris, not as a conqueror, not as an overlord, but as the man who had walked through lifetimes to stand with her again.
The palace gates, once the seat of tyrants, swung wide. The golden halls of the Celestial Dragon Empire, carved from scales of ancient wyrms and filled with the echoes of centuries, trembled under the new tide of destiny.
At the center of the grand hall stood Lilya. She walked forward slowly, her steps echoing like the toll of fate itself. Her robes shimmered with divine radiance, woven from dragonfire and blessed by her own Progenitor bloodline. Behind her trailed Igaris, silent yet commanding, the shadow of her strength and the steel of her heart.
Everywhere she turned, nobles and generals fell to their knees. Dragon men who once roared defiance now bowed their heads, their bloodlines suppressed by her overwhelming presence. Even the proudest of dukes dared not meet her eyes.
The common folk flooded the steps outside the palace, chanting her name with voices raw and tearful. They had seen their villages burned, their kin enslaved, their lives crushed beneath imperial boots. Now they watched the woman who had risen from among them, the Progenitor reborn, ascend the throne with flames of justice.
Upon the dais stood the throne of the Celestial Dragons, wrought from crystallized dragon bone and bound with heavenly steel. For generations it had been a symbol of oppression. Now, it waited for its true heir.
Igaris paused at the bottom of the steps, watching. His eyes held no greed for the seat of power. Instead, he smiled faintly as Lilya climbed the final steps alone, her figure bathed in golden light.
She turned, gazing down at the hall—at the nobles forced to kneel, at the soldiers trembling, at the people cheering from beyond the gates. Her voice, filled with the resonance of her Progenitor form, echoed like divine decree.
"From this day forth, no dragon shall live in chains. No world shall kneel under tyranny. I am Lilya, heir of the Dragon Progenitor, and I claim the throne of the Celestial Dragon Empire not as a tyrant, but as the mother of my people."
The hall shook as she lowered herself onto the throne. The moment her body touched its seat, a storm of dragonfire swept through the palace, burning away the last traces of the old Emperor’s will. The bloodlines of every dragon in the Empire trembled in submission, swearing loyalty to their true sovereign.
The crowd erupted. Cries of "Long live the Empress!" rolled across the empire like thunder. Villagers fell to their knees weeping, soldiers struck their chests in salute, and the skies above burst with auroras of flame and starlight.
Lilya, now the Dragon Empress, looked to her side. There stood Igaris, the man who had stood against her in another life, the man who had guided her in this one, the man who never let her fall. She extended her hand, and before the entire Empire, he took it.
In that moment, a new era began. The Celestial Dragon Empire was reborn, not under the rule of fear, but under the reign of the Progenitor’s heir, with Igaris at her side.
---
The throne hall was quiet. For the first time since the war ended, the fires of battle had died, and peace stretched over the Celestial Dragon Empire like a fragile dawn. Lilya sat on her throne, the crown upon her head gleaming with ancient dragonfire. Yet her gaze was faraway, always drawn to the figure who stood at her side.
Igaris approached her gently, his footsteps echoing against the marble floor. She looked at him, sensing the weight in his eyes even before he spoke.
"Lilya," he began, his voice low, "you have restored the Empire, but my path does not end here. There are others... women I once failed to protect. My wives. They are scattered across the worlds, and I must find them before the same fate that nearly claimed you falls upon them."
Her lips trembled, though she tried to hide it behind her Empress composure. "You’re leaving me," she whispered, her fingers tightening against the throne’s armrest. "After everything... after we won together, you will walk away?"
He stepped closer, kneeling before her throne so that their eyes met on equal ground. "I am not leaving you. I could never." He lifted his hand, and as his palm glowed with his soul energy, another figure appeared beside him—an exact replica of himself, alive with his aura and presence.
"This," Igaris said softly, "is my doppelganger. It will remain here with you. It shares my thoughts, my heart, my loyalty. You will never be alone."
For a moment, Lilya simply stared at the doppelganger, her eyes wide, her breath trembling. Then she turned back to the real Igaris, tears brimming.
"You’re cruel," she said with a broken smile. "You give me hope only to take yourself away again."
He leaned forward, brushing away her tears with his thumb. "Cruel, perhaps. But necessary. One day, when I return, I want you to stand before me not as someone waiting, but as a true Empress who has ruled in her own right. And when that day comes... I will stand beside you again, forever."
Her sob broke into laughter through tears, and she clutched his hand tightly. "Then promise me," she said, voice shaking, "promise me you will return."
His eyes softened. "I promise."
That night, the people of the Empire saw a strange sight—their Empress walking the palace gardens hand in hand with two Igarises. One, real and destined to depart into the unknown. The other, a shadow of him left behind to guard her heart.
And when dawn came, the real Igaris disappeared into the horizon, chasing the threads of fate, while his doppelganger remained behind, silently vowing to protect the Empress until his return.
---
The day of the departure came.
The stars stretched endlessly, a sea of silver fires burning against the black canvas of eternity. From the balcony of the Celestial Palace, Lilya watched as the man she loved once again prepared to leave her side.
Igaris stood before a rift of shimmering light that he himself had torn open. Beyond it lay the infinite worlds, each holding secrets, dangers, and the fragments of his past that still needed to be reclaimed. His cloak fluttered in the cosmic wind spilling from the gate, and the golden runes inscribed across his body pulsed faintly, resonating with the call of destiny.
"Your Majesty," one of Lilya’s ministers spoke in fear, "if he departs now, who will protect you should another threat arise?"
Lilya raised her hand, silencing them. Her eyes, firm yet heavy with unspoken longing, never left Igaris.
He turned to her, his gaze as steady as the first time he reached out to awaken her dragon bloodline. "Lilya," he said, voice deep, carrying the weight of countless lifetimes, "this is where our paths diverge, for now. The cosmos still holds chains I must break, and wives I must find. But know this—no matter how far I walk, my soul will always return to you."
Her heart clenched, but she held herself tall, the Empress who had slain the Emperor and claimed her rightful throne. Still, her voice softened when she answered, "Then I will wait, no matter how long. When you return, this throne, this Empire, and my heart will still belong to you."
A faint smile curved his lips. "That is enough."
With a final step, Igaris walked into the cosmic rift. His figure was swallowed by the infinite, the glow of the gate fading until only the stars remained.
The world seemed quieter in his absence. Lilya’s hands curled into fists at her sides, but then she felt it—the warmth of the doppelganger’s presence at her shoulder. A reminder of his vow.
The people of the Celestial Dragon Empire whispered that night of how their Empress watched the skies until dawn, her golden eyes filled not with despair, but with unyielding hope.
Somewhere across the endless cosmos, Igaris traveled once more, his legend beginning anew.