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Unlike the unattainable, almost ethereal power of the "War Saint" Leimen, Shamanda's strength, dominance, and unyielding nature carried too much of the secular weight of authority—a convergence of warrior, noble, and commander. Surpassing and overthrowing such a formidable figure was enough to ignite the passion of any martial artist aspiring to greatness. Moreover, Shamanda's lofty position stood in stark contrast to the reclusive old lion Leimen. To surpass Leimen would only earn the expectation of becoming the next "War Saint," but to challenge Shamanda meant an inevitable life-or-death struggle with this orc king.

In his dreams, Chen Xuanfeng had never regarded this orc king as his sole rival, yet it was undeniable that Shamanda had almost become the benchmark by which he measured his own progress. Surpassing him in martial arts, influence, and every other aspect had become the very criterion by which Chen Xuanfeng judged the success of his life's achievements.

Yet today, right before his eyes, this very figure he had vowed to surpass had encountered the Sword of Regicide at the pinnacle of his life—dying so suddenly, so ignominiously.

...Shamanda, if you had to die, it should have been by my hand or Catherine's. To die like this is truly unworthy of a warrior. And what of us, who aimed to defeat you? Doesn't this make us all a joke?

...And what of the mess you left behind? The Cracked Fang Clan may wield great influence, but their foundation is shallow. Without you, their Sword Saint monarch, to hold it together—without even completing the coronation—which of the five great warrior races would acknowledge the continuation of your dynasty? Yet the Cracked Fang Clan possesses so many Orc Warcraft Warriors; they could never simply abandon the imperial throne and return to the alliance system. I fear endless civil strife lies ahead...

Now one of the world's foremost wielders of martial and political power, Chen Xuanfeng's perspective had naturally evolved. The moment Shamanda was assassinated, he foresaw the ripple effects this upheaval would have on the entire orc race—and they were dire indeed.

"May our emperor return to the embrace of the War God..."

From the center of the gathered orcs came the hoarse, weary voice of the Pope of the War God. It was soon drowned out by a chorus of wails.

No matter how they would deal with the fractured dynasty in the days to come, at this moment, the leaders of the hundred orc clans united in profound mourning for their fallen emperor.

As the Pope slowly emerged from the circle of Cracked Fang warriors, he cast a silent glance at Chen Xuanfeng—clearly seeking to gauge how the latter would navigate the coming chaos. Though the orcs comprised a hundred clans, few factions truly held the power to shape their race's future. Among them, Chen Xuanfeng's Fountainbleau faction was the wildcard: with Catherine, the Saint Martial Emperor, multiple human Saint-level combatants, and Chen Xuanfeng himself—a man destined to become the second coming of Leimen—their shallow roots belied terrifying strength. Should they plunge into the coming power struggle for the orc imperial throne, the devastation would be incalculable.

Chen Xuanfeng tilted his chin slightly, meeting the Pope's gaze with calm assurance. His message was clear: he remained level-headed about the current crisis and would never prioritize personal ambition over the welfare of their race. That said, unless it harmed orc interests, he had no intention of bowing to the Cracked Fang Clan—especially now that they had lost their domineering pillar of strength.

The Pope gave a slight nod and withdrew into the crowd of Shamans. The aftermath of such a catastrophic disruption to the ceremony would demand his attention for a long time. Shamanda's remains would be tended by his clan, and their next moves required careful internal deliberation. Meanwhile, the leaders of the orc clans—particularly the five great warrior races—wore varied expressions. They, too, would need to strategize.

Just as Chen Xuanfeng began pondering his own path forward, a resonant dragon's roar echoed from the distance.

"Winter Night? What now?" Chen Xuanfeng muttered. For the coronation, he had brought no elite retinue—only the White Dragon Winter Night, who had been stationed outside the city during the ceremony. Why was the dragon suddenly soaring in with such urgency?

Before he could ponder further, the dragon landed at the plaza's edge. The eagle tribe sentries tasked with aerial surveillance circled overhead but didn't intervene, seeing no signs of aggression.

Then Winter Night's frantic words struck Chen Xuanfeng like a physical blow.

"Magical alert from Fountainbleau: the Supreme Dragon Saint approaches, leading the Knights of the Dragon Emperor, three human Sword Saints, and the Temple's new Pope. They've reached within a hundred kilometers of Blue City Fortress."

The millennium-old white dragon's mastery of magic dwarfed Chen Xuanfeng's amateurish skills. Thus, maintaining magical contact with Fountainbleau had naturally fallen to the more capable party. Yet Chen Xuanfeng never expected to receive such dire news from the dragon's mouth.

"To hell with this—we ride NOW!" Chen Xuanfeng bellowed, leaping onto the dragon's back without another glance at the unfolding chaos. Winter Night's wings beat once, and they vanished into the clouds.

...Damn, damn, DAMN! Those humans dare attack Catherine at a time like this...!

Ever since Catherine's pregnancy, the Supreme Dragon Saint had been a thorn in Chen Xuanfeng's heart. Such top-tier warriors couldn't be countered by mere numbers. Though Chen Xuanfeng had prepared for a potential assault, this time he'd left behind nearly all their elite forces: the "Ice Valkyrie" Zha, the Sword Saint Jin Luosha, the enhanced elven twins Ye Ge and Xue Li, the Zombie King, the Behemoth, the Crystal Dragon, and several Sword Monarchs. Yet he never anticipated the Supreme Dragon Saint would join forces with other human Sword Saints. Three young Sword Saints, plus the new Pope Xi Luo (whose power rivaled theirs), and an unknown number of Dragon Emperor Knights—their strength matched Fountainbleau's defenses man for man. In other words, the forces Chen Xuanfeng had left behind could no longer hold off the Dragon Saint.