Chapter 593 - 63: Rosani’s Summoning_3

He muttered, "Karon, should we take some spaceships with us when we leave? These toys look quite fun."

"I want to take a spaceship and see how it compares to the magic spaceships of the Elves, which is more powerful."

"There will be opportunities in the future," White Dragon Gomot curbed his unreliable sibling’s idea, saying, "As for comparing with the magic spaceships of the Elf Race, these spaceships are merely toys."

"Camid, shouldn’t you explore the Dragon’s Treasure Vault within your bloodline and see what’s inside?" Female Red Dragon Kleyna couldn’t help but speak up.

"Those Elves once attempted to challenge and oppose the gods with their Floating City and vast Interstellar Fleet. Although these arrogant Elves failed, their former strength cannot be denied."

As the Dragon Group began to quibble like they did in their hatchling days, Karon smirked and said, "The civilization of this world has yet to reach the great feats of the Elves, but they have their strengths as well,"

"Let’s go. Since you have time to waste on arguments, it seems you’ve eaten your fill. Return and complete our unfinished business!"

The Giant Dragons stood up, magic power surging between their claws, the model of magic took shape swiftly, a massive Space Teleportation Gate slowly opened before the Ancestral Red Dragon.

Karon took the lead, stepping first through the teleportation gate, followed closely by the Giant Dragons.

...

In the largest cavern of the south, tens of thousands of Fremen had already gathered. Sitting within the cavern were the leaders and elites of their respective tribes, the mightiest warriors.

Moreover, other caves connected to the cavern and its outer perimeter hosted up to millions of Fremen. They gathered here for the Fremen’s tribal assembly, held today.

The brethren from the north brought news of the Prophet’s arrival, along with word of the Prophet and Divine Spirits.

Yet, unlike the fervent Fremen masses, whether the true Prophet would be acknowledged depended on these elites, ironically so.

The northern Fremen proclaimed the news of Divine Spirits with a semblance of seriousness, only to be scornfully laughed at by these leaders.

However, in the cavern, this solemn place, no one spoke out loud.

The edges of the vast cavern were shrouded in darkness, with only a hole in the center of the dome letting in sunlight. It was also the heart of the cavern, surrounded by tens of thousands of seated Fremen, empty at its core.

Paul strode boldly through the Fremen left path, towards that sliver of sunlight, his steps firm and unstoppable.

"Mahdi, Mahdi," a devotee of the Prophet anxiously intercepted, "That place is reserved for tribal leaders to speak. Here, only a leader may speak."

"If you wish to speak, you must replace him," the devotee pointed to Stilgar, the nominal leader of the Northern Tribe, and declared loudly.

"Defeat him, return the water from his body to the deep well!"

Stilgar, cloaked in the cloth of the devotee, rose from the ground, standing silently.

"Do you think I would be so foolish as to eliminate our tribe’s bravest warrior before the war comes?" Paul’s blue eyes, filled with flame, stared directly into the devotee’s eyes.

"Would you break your blade before battle?" Paul shouted with a surging voice.

"Take my life, Muad’Dib. It is the only way," Stilgar drew a dagger, lifting the robe, as he reached an understanding.

Paul turned, his flame-laden blue gaze sweeping over Stilgar, over all the Fremen, and roared, "It should be I who guides the way,"

All the Fremen stirred from the silence, standing up one by one.

Yet Paul remained unmoved, ascending the sunlight-bathed platform, turning to face all the Fremen, shouting loudly, "None of you can match me!"

"Your mother’s soul warned you of my arrival, fear it, for the moment has come,"

Paul stepped forward, crouching before a warrior leader who had drawn a dagger, gazing into the leader’s eyes as if seeing through all his thoughts, speaking softly, "You think you have a chance, but you’re still afraid."

"What if I truly am the chosen one? Perhaps this is the moment you’ve prayed for all your life,"

Paul’s calmness and aura overwhelmed the leader. He stood again, facing all the Fremen and said, "Pray in your heart now, seek your grandmother’s blessing."

"She passed nine months ago," Paul stepped forward, closing in on the Fremen leader, speaking lightly in Fremen language, "She lost an eye, hit by a stone while crossing a storm."

Paul’s words pierced the leader’s heart, aligning perfectly with his own circumstance, transforming his commanding presence into fear, panic spreading across his face.

Solemnity and surprise spread over each Fremen’s face.

"Back then, she was only twelve, and at that time, this planet wasn’t called EraCos, it had only one Fremen name—Dune!"

The leader’s terrified expression reflected in his dilated pupils unmistakably as he instantly knelt down, shouting loudly, "Lisan al-Gaib!"

All the Fremen knelt at that moment, shouting loudly, "Lisan al-Gaib!"

"Lisan al-Gaib, guide us on the path!"

Paul tore off his glove, retrieved the Duke’s Ring, a family heirloom, from his chest, wearing it on his hand, raising his arm skyward.

"I am Paul Muad’Dib Atreides! Duke of EraCos and Messiah Warrior of God," Paul raised his right hand to the heavens, roaring, "May my Lord bear witness to all!"

Rumble,

The massive dome, like a firmament, trembled as Paul’s words fell, as all the Fremen panicked, watching a giant head descending from the dome.

A gigantic, steel-like claw lodged atop the dome, allowing all the Fremen to see every tiny scale, each taut muscle, and the strength it held.

Unmatched mighty power swelled, the entire dome, before this god-like being, was slowly unveiled, as if lifting a curtain, sunlight streaming down.

Rumble,

The colossal dome was overturned by the divine mighty power, as heads peeked through, eyes of varied hues gazing at the Fremen in the cavern, like humans observing ants, divine spirits gazing at mortals.

"Oh my God, True God above,"

"What is this? Is this the alien god the prophet worships?"

"Grandmother spare me, may I not be devoured by these terrifying gods!"

Discussion arose, only the Fremen from the Northern Tribe knelt one after another, beginning to pray.

"Quiet! (An Jing!)"

The Ancestral Red Dragon revealed its fangs, the Dragon Emperor’s True Word Decree carrying a power greater than ancient witchcraft, an authoritative and powerful voice reverberated, instantly silencing all the Fremen, transforming their terrified expressions into fervor.

"He is the Dragon Emperor, He is the Master of Humanity and all tribes, He is also the God I worship!" Paul raised both hands, shouting loudly, "This is the moment you’ve prayed for your entire life."

"He is the Dragon Emperor, He is the Master of Humanity, He is the God to be venerated!" All the Fremen hailed, a tidal wave of acclaim, shaking the cavern, spreading across the dune!