Overtime

Leaving the meeting room, Irene quickly made her way back to her lair.

Of course, her current lair was separate from Daviel's. It was no longer a dark underground cavern; instead, a dedicated dragon's nest had been constructed for her on the surface.

Specifically, it was located in what used to be the inner city.

Today, the entire inner city, including the original statue, had been demolished and replaced by a massive, palace-like structure.

From the outside, the architecture bore a slight resemblance to ancient Greek style.

Cream-colored quartz served as the primary building material.

Six massive stone pillars lined the front of the dragon's nest, framing a colossal stone gate in the center that stood over ten meters tall.

As Irene approached, the stone gate, driven by magic, automatically creaked open to reveal a gap, and once she stepped inside, it swung shut heavily behind her.

It closed with a dull, heavy thud.

The interior of the dragon's nest was vast and empty. Far from luxurious, it could even be described as extremely simple, save for the illuminating gemstones embedded in the walls.

At a glance, the only furniture in the entire palace was a massive bed placed right in the center.

As a rather unconventional dragon, Irene preferred a soft, plush bed over sleeping on a pile of treasure.

However, driven by her draconic instincts, she still spread a thin layer of gold coins across the bed.

This way, she could enjoy the massage of the gold coins while still sleeping on a comfortable bed.

“Snap.”

With the snap of her fingers, Irene's clothes quickly vanished, and her body began to rapidly expand.

Before long, she transformed from a petite and lovely young girl into a terrifying, ferocious black dragon.

Her sleek, glossy scales reflected a brilliant luster under the light of the gemstones embedded in the walls, without a single speck of dust to be seen.

This showed just how much care the little dragon girl put into keeping her body clean, to the point where she kept a permanent Dusting Spell active on herself year-round.

This was likely a little habit she had gradually developed ever since her birth.

After all, Mother Dragon's lair was located in a filthy swamp, where getting dirty was an everyday occurrence. This was why, upon acquiring her spellbook, the very first spells Irene chose to learn were the Dusting Spell and the Cleaning Spell—two apprentice cantrips that didn't even rank at the Black Iron Rank.

She had cast them on herself, using a constant, minor drain of mana to lock them in as a periodically triggering spell, similar to an aura effect.

She had maintained this habit all the way to the present day.

By the time Irene reached the gold-covered bed, she had fully reverted to her true form.

Covering her mouth with a claw, she let out a yawn and fell straight backward onto the bed.

With a loud boom, gold coins splattered in all directions.

Her immense weight caused the bedframe to let out a strained, groaning creak.

But Irene didn't care in the slightest.

Over the years, in order to survive in this fantasy world and prevent herself from being slain by adventurers shouting about bonds and friendship, she had been constantly studying, practicing spells, and even absorbing knowledge from her Draconic Inheritance in her sleep.

After so much grueling hard work, she was truly exhausted. Irene felt it was high time she took a proper rest.

This was also the reason why she had suddenly announced her upcoming slumber.

It wasn't just because the time for her slumber was drawing near; she also wanted to give herself a long vacation.

Emptying her mind, she wanted to sleep for a few decades and just relax.

However, things never seemed to go as planned.

Just as a fully relaxed Irene drifted into a hazy, half-asleep state, ready to plunge into a deep slumber, the gate of the dragon's nest...

...was knocked on from the outside.

The loud noise naturally jolted the little dragon girl awake.

Furrowing her brow, she blurted out, “Damn it!” and grumpily scrambled out of bed.

She stomped over to open the gate.

“Clang! Clang! Clang!”

The massive stone gate was opened from the inside.

At first glance, Irene saw Fido's iconic dog head and the magical glow pulsing along the mithril circuits of his power armor.

Ever since this guy had experienced the power of the armor, he refused to take it off.

To show off his dominance, he had even asked Gar to install three spiral horns on his helmet a few days ago.

He then painted a red dog head logo onto the chest plate.

Because of this, he had earned the bizarre moniker “Red Dog” within the military of the Black Dragon Empire.

“Did something go wrong already?” Irene narrowed her massive dragon eyes. Being woken up just as she was falling asleep clearly displeased her.

“Your Grace,” Fido lowered his head, looking thoroughly apologetic. “I am terribly sorry for interrupting your slumber, but someone has specifically requested to see you by name. That is why I rushed here to ask for your instructions at this hour.”

“Who?” Irene suppressed some of her annoyance, growing slightly curious. She knew Fido wouldn't dare disturb her sleep for just anyone.

“Uh...” Fido hesitated for a moment, then looked up and said, “Do you remember the Saintess of the Holy Kingdom who offended you last time?”

“Her?” Irene instantly recalled that pathetic figure.

Dragons had excellent memories, and since it had only been a few days, she naturally hadn't forgotten.

What surprised Irene was that this person had actually returned so quickly.

She had assumed it would take some time to gather those books.

After a brief silence, Irene said, “Bring her in.”

“Yes!” Fido complied and withdrew, leaving Irene to click her tongue in the empty hall. “Tsk, overtime again,” she muttered to herself.

“I didn't expect that your Saintess wouldn't show up in person. How disappointing.”

Inside the dragon's nest, Irene stretched her massive draconic body, her gaze locked onto the tiny, black-robed figure before her.

“Her Holiness cannot easily meet with you, so I beg Your Grace's forgiveness.” A cold voice drifted from beneath the black robe. As she spoke, she pulled back her hood, revealing a smiling face now marked by two scars.

It was Laya, the female guard captain from Saintess Vina's entourage.

Compared to a few days ago, her face showed no trace of its former self, instead carrying a somewhat seductive and enchanting allure.

Irene frowned slightly at the sight of her face, but her expression quickly relaxed. “Did you bring the items?”

“Of course I did.” Laya slipped a hand out from under her black robe and raised it to shoulder height. As a storage ring on her finger began to glow, books radiating a corrupt and eerie aura flew out one by one, landing on the floor.

They hit the ground with a series of heavy, muffled thuds.

Before long, they piled up into a small mountain.

“They are all here.” Laya offered a bright smile and gestured toward the pile. “Would Your Grace care to verify the count?”

“No need.” Irene cast her gaze over the stack of books. Her mental power swept over them in an instant, confirming the contents.

“In that case, may I take my leave now?” Laya asked, looking perfectly calm and unbothered. She showed no signs of nervousness whatsoever, as if she were facing an ordinary person rather than a terrifying dragon.

“Of course. I am a good dragon who honors her contracts.” Irene flashed her signature wicked dragon smile, lowering her head to bring her face close to Laya's. “Remember to give your Saintess my regards,” she whispered.

Laya tilted her head up to meet Irene's gaze, her eyes betraying a hint of uncontrollable madness.

“As you wish. I shall pass on your message to my master.”

With that, she bowed, turned, and walked toward the exit of the dragon's nest.

Only after watching her completely vanish from the nest did Irene shake her head.

Plonking herself down on the floor, she picked up a book that was exuding a faint deathly aura, took a quick glance, and let out a helpless sigh. “Seriously... I hate working overtime!”