Ragnar entered Everkeep atop Ymat, the dark enormous dragon's wings casting shadows over the city.

Behind him, a procession of dragon riders, each mounted on majestic creatures, descended upon the Everkeep city.

The air resonated with the echoing beats of dragon wings as they circled above, their scales gleaming in the sunlight like living armor.

Lady Sophia, accompanied by General Pyndal, raced towards Everkeep on horseback, desperately trying to catch up with Ragnar and his dragon riders.

The thundering hooves of their horses echoed through the open plains as they strained to bridge the distance.

Despite their best efforts, Ragnar and the dragon riders maintained a swift pace, their aerial advantage allowing them to effortlessly outpace the pursuit on the ground.

Ymat's wings beat gracefully, carrying Ragnar further ahead as the dragons soared above, a stark contrast to the gallant yet futile chase below.

Sophia's and Pyndal's horses, valiant as they were, couldn't match the speed and grace of the airborne dragons.

The city gates loomed in the distance, and as Ragnar and his dragon riders approached, Everkeep seemed to surrender to the impending presence of Gamaaloth's forces.

The scene unfolded as a visual testament to the overwhelming might of dragons and the foreboding power they brought to the once peaceful realm.

Ragnar's footsteps echoed with a measured cadence as he entered the grand throne room. Behind him, the thunderous roars of his troops and the dragons they commanded reverberated, creating an atmosphere of intimidation that sent shivers through the assembled Cescil warriors.

With an air of calculated composure, Ragnar approached the imposing altar. His features as he spoke, each word carrying the weight of impending change.

"Beginning today, I, The Prince Crown of Gamaaloth Kingdom, far to the north, Ragnar Clementine, lay claim to the Cescil throne and declare myself your new king. The responsibility of the forthcoming war against Ostril will fall upon me and my forces," Ragnar deliberately paused, letting the tension build as his gaze swept across the trembling onlookers.

He continued, "As long as you all willingly submit and bow in reverence before me, I shall extend my protection over you."

The pregnant silence that followed echoed the gravity of Ragnar's proclamation, marking the dawn of a new, uneasy era for the once-proud kingdom of Cescil.

A hushed breath filled the room as everyone stood rigid, fixated on Ragnar's advancing steps towards the throne.

The echo of his boots resonated through the chamber, creating an eerie ambiance. Queen Oda and King Reinald, visibly uneasy, stood nervously in place, while a few daring officials found the courage to speak out.

"Wait a moment! You can't—"

"Can't what?" Ragnar sharply interrupted.

"We don't agree to you becoming our new king. After all, you've betrayed our initial agreement. You were supposed to come to protect us, not turn around and conquer us!" one official voiced, defiance breaking through the collective tension in the room.

Ragnar's gaze shifted toward Arn and Rast, positioned by the doorway.

"So, you dare disagree with my ascension to be your new king, even after I saved you at the borders, fending off the onslaught from the Ostrill Kingdom? You'd prefer to be subjugated by Ostril?" Their unanimous stern nods propelled them to stand collectively, forming a human barrier against Ragnar's advance to the throne.

"I'll offer you one final opportunity to reconsider."

"We adamantly reject your claim to kingship."

With a subtle gesture, Ragnar signaled to Arnulp and Rastislav.

The soft hiss of drawn swords almost went unnoticed. Their eyes widened as the razor-sharp steel glided through their necks. The execution was swift, clinical, happening in the blink of an eye.

The officials gasped, their mouths agape, attempts at protestations silenced too late.

A choked sound escaped Queen Oda's lips as the heads of the officials were summarily severed from their bodies.

It took mere seconds to dispatch them all.

The thudding sound echoed one after another as the heads rolled and tumbled on the cold, unfeeling floor, leaving the room immersed in an unsettling silence.

"Now, who else dares to dissent?" Ragnar's voice cut through the air, his piercing gaze compelling everyone to bow in fearful submission.

Queen Oda quivered in her place, and a tremor ran through the room as she descended from her throne, King Reinald following suit.

"Prince Ragnar Clementine, you can't simply seize my kingdom at will," Queen Oda declared, her voice carrying a hint of desperation.

Ragnar stepped forward, a relentless force, and Queen Oda involuntarily retreated. Her face had paled, but an unyielding spirit burned in her eyes. She wasn't ready to capitulate without a fight.

"Why not? I possess both power and forces. What can you possibly do?" Ragnar's words hung in the air, a challenge echoing through the tension-filled chamber.

"I won't—"

"Ah, spare me the futile protests," Ragnar interrupted with a bored sigh. "Rest assured, especially for you, I'll provide a death that's slow and agonizing. So save your strength for the torment I'm about to unleash."

Queen Oda widened her eyes, shaking her head in disbelief.

"Tie her up," Ragnar commanded, waving his hand at Arn. He then turned to King Reinald, who remained silent with lips sealed.

Queen Oda resisted as her body was forcefully dragged away. Her cries for freedom echoed in vain, unheard commands in a room gripped by fear and uncertainty.

The soldiers stood, paralyzed and unable to resist.

Arn diligently bound Queen Oda to one of the pillars, while Ragnar ascended the steps to his newfound throne, accompanied by Uzana at his side.

Seated there, he surveyed the room, locking eyes with everyone present. The heavy atmosphere bore witness to the ruthless ascension of a new king and the desperate defiance of a once-proud queen.

"Is there no respect for your new king?"

In response, they all promptly prostrated themselves on the floor, not daring to utter the slightest dissent.

Ragnar surveyed the room with a steely gaze, his newfound throne towering above the prostrated figures.

The air was thick with tension and submission. Uzana, Ragnar's brother, perched beside him, exuded an air of silent authority.