Fido's mouth had just split into a grin.
Revealing a mouthful of sharp fangs, he let out a chuckle.
But because of those words, he snapped his mouth shut instantly.
Under the little dragon girl's gaze, a storm brewed in Fido's mind.
He felt he must have overlooked something and incurred Her Grace's displeasure.
Yet, after pondering for a long while until his dog brain was practically smoking,
he still couldn't figure out what he had done wrong.
All he could do was offer an awkward smile and ask:
“Your Grace, to what are you referring?”
Irene shook her head in amusement and uttered two words.
“Knowledge.”
Before Fido could speak, she continued:
“Those steam trains piled up in the lair—they were tossed there simply because no one knew how to use them, right?”
Hearing this, Fido lowered his head in shame.
Seeing this, Irene knew she had guessed correctly and went on:
“Force is the foundation, but only with knowledge can one master the path to advancement.”
The far-sighted little dragon girl already had a meticulous plan in mind.
A dragon always had to look forward.
Since she now possessed more than just a little self-preservation strength, the next step was to continue developing.
To expand this advantage and guard these riches.
She still remembered the dream she had made when she was still weak—
To establish a nation of her own.
To develop, to build a nation,
relying solely on force to monopolize knowledge and hegemony would surely not last.
For now, her forces weren't that massive, so things could be kept stable without chaos.
But if she successfully established a nation in the future and the entire population was illiterate,
she would be worked to the bone.
Moreover, Irene only wanted to be a hands-off boss.
Just then, the tavern owner walked over, carrying a whole roasted pig.
Grabbing a roasted pig leg, Irene spoke as she ate:
“Since food and drink are no longer an issue, let's take a portion of the gold coins earned from trade to purchase various books.”
“We will establish academies in the larger oases to teach knowledge, magic, and battle qi.”
Saying this, Irene swallowed the meat in her mouth and began drawing a map on the charred pig skin.
“For long-term development, we cannot rely solely on the Black Knights in the shadows.”
“We also need forces in the open. We must grasp both physical might and cultural education...”
The far-sighted little dragon girl grew more excited as she spoke, drawing up ten five-year plans on the spot.
As the old kobold Fido listened, his eyes gradually glazed over with confusion...
‘Why is it that I can understand every single word Her Grace says, but when they're put together, I don't understand at all?’
Just as Fido's brain was beginning to overload and about to burn out,
an Imperial Guard entered the tavern.
Fido immediately looked as if he had seen his savior. Grabbing the guard's hand, he asked excitedly:
“Did something happen?!”
The Imperial Guard glanced at the tavern owner standing in the distance, then used a localized sound transmission spell to speak to the big bosses present:
“Your Grace, something has happened to Lord Daviel.”
With the sound of a chair toppling over, Fido was the first to stand up, staring intently at the Imperial Guard.
He bellowed at the top of his lungs, “What did you say?!”
As he spoke, his gaze drifted intentionally or unintentionally toward Irene's face.
That was Her Grace's brother. If she were to fly into a rage...
But the expected roar of fury did not happen.
Irene took out a handkerchief and wiped her mouth.
Standing up unhurriedly, she smiled at the human tavern owner watching from afar and said:
“Thank you, it was delicious.”
Then, she drew a gold coin from her robes and pinched it between two fingers, placing it on the table.
The tavern was so quiet that the only sound was the crisp ring of the coin hitting the tabletop.
“Let's go. We can talk on the way.”
Irene glanced at the reporting guard and led the way out of the establishment.
“Yes!”
The soldier nodded in response, following closely behind.
He began to explain everything in detail via magic transmission...
Watching Irene walk ahead, Fido exhaled a careful breath.
Wiping the sweat that had beaded on his forehead, he hurriedly caught up.
As she listened to the guard's narration, Irene's brow furrowed deeper and deeper.
The story went like this:
After waking from his slumber half a year ago, Daviel had found staying alone in the dragon's lair too boring. He had wanted to sleep away the tedious hours,
only to realize that having just slept for seven years, he couldn't fall back asleep at all.
So, he took fifty Imperial Guards out to expand their territory and cure his boredom.
During this time, most tribes had bowed their heads in submission the moment he revealed his true form.
Only a few moderately strong tribes had been tough nuts to crack.
But even they were quickly defeated and subjugated by Daviel's adolescent dragon strength.
This greatly fueled his arrogance.
He gradually lost himself amidst the endless praises of the various tribes.
Consequently, he roamed the God-Forsaken Land even more gleefully, looking for trouble everywhere.
Half a month ago,
while Daviel was wandering around the God-Forsaken Land like a street punk with his fifty Imperial Guards,
he encountered a group of humans.
This human team was digging for something at the time.
Because Daviel was overly conceited, he felt the entire God-Forsaken Land belonged to his family.
Since these people dared to secretly dig up his family's property,
he decisively charged straight in.
As it turned out, there was a Gold Rank mage in that group.
Due to his carelessness and poor mastery of his skills, Daviel was pinned to the ground by this mage and beaten until he wailed in pain.
He only managed to make a pathetic escape under the cover of the Imperial Guard.
Although he didn't sustain any serious injuries, he didn't return to the dragon's lair upon his escape.
Instead, he chose to hide it from Fido and the others, secretly concealing himself with the guards who had fled with him to nurse his wounds.
However, the Imperial Guard and the Black Knights were all Irene's vassals. Their loyalty belonged solely to their true master.
Upon hearing the news that their bloodline master had awakened today, the guards who had accompanied Daviel didn't hesitate for a second to run over and snitch...
After hearing the whole story, Irene pinched the bridge of her nose in exasperation and asked:
“Where is Daviel now? Take me to him.”
“Understood!”
The Imperial Guard immediately led the way.
Winding through several turns, they arrived at a highly secluded house within Black City.
Irene kicked the door open, only to see the little black dragon holding a chicken drumstick, about to stuff it into his mouth.
Daviel: "(º Д º*)"
Irene stared at him, dumbfounded...
“...Daviel, why are you bald?”
The air fell silent for two seconds.
Both sides were completely bewildered.
Irene was bewildered by Daviel's appearance.
Having polymorphed into human form, his head was now adorned with only a few sparse, stray hairs.
Half of his eyebrows were missing.
Daviel was bewildered as to how he had been tracked down.
After a moment of silence, the little black dragon spoke first.
“...S-Sis... when did you wake up?”
Then, his single remaining eyebrow furrowed.
“Wait, how did you know I was here?!”
Daviel's gaze swept toward the snitch of a guard leading Irene.
Although the armor styles were identical, he instantly detected the guard's aura.
This was clearly one of the lackeys who had gone out to cause trouble with him.
Even with Daviel's sluggish brain, he realized what had happened.
He had been sold out.
Noticing Daviel's glare, the poor guard immediately lowered his head.
Not daring to meet his gaze.
“You... you motherfucking traitor!!”
Daviel stood up and threw the chicken drumstick, attempting to pelt him with it.
Only for Irene to catch it mid-air.
Seeing this, the infuriated Daviel grabbed the underside of the table with both hands, preparing to flip it.
But before he could even lift the table, a figure leaped onto it and shoved the drumstick right into his mouth.
It went straight down to the back of his throat.
“Mmph!”
Daviel's eyes instantly bulged out.
One hand clutched his neck while the other frantically beat his chest.
His face flushed bright red from suffocation.
“Mmph, mmph... Gulp!”
With a hard squeeze, he swallowed the entire chicken drumstick, bone and all.
Only then did he gently pat his chest and exhale a long breath of relief.
Before he could fully recover, a cold voice rang out from above:
“I heard you went out to mess around and ran into a brick wall?”
Daviel stiffly looked up, meeting Irene's downcast golden eyes.
They seemed to be filled with displeasure.
Gulp...
Swallowing hard, Daviel shrank his neck back and said sheepishly, “Sis... let me explain.”
“Heh...”
Irene's eyes narrowed into vertical slits. A long black dragon tail whipped out from behind her and lashed violently.
With a loud bang, the table split in two.
The little dragon girl landed steadily. Crossing her arms, she squinted her slit pupils at the little black dragon and said, word by word:
“Didn't I tell you? Lay low, develop quietly, and don't look for trouble.”
Hearing this interrogation, Daviel felt as if his heart was about to stop.
He hurriedly shouted:
“But Sis, those humans were highly suspicious!”
“If they dare to dig holes in our territory today, they'll dare to shit on our heads tomorrow!”
“I was just taking precautions...”
But Irene cut him off:
“Stop. I have no interest in hearing your excuses. I only want to confirm one thing: did you expose me?”
“Or rather, do those humans suspect me?”
Hearing this, Daviel quickly said, like a drowning man clutching at a straw:
“Don't worry, Sis! I disguised myself before making a move. Those humans will absolutely never suspect you.”
Having said that, Daviel looked left and right.
His gaze locked onto the snitch of an Imperial Guard who had reported to Irene, and he shouted:
“You! Yes, you! Take off your armor! Show my sister how we disguised ourselves back then!”
The guard looked around to make sure Daviel was talking to him, then glanced at Irene.
Seeing that she didn't object, he began removing his armor piece by piece.
Revealing a highly bizarre outfit underneath.
On his head was a pair of black underpants.
On his legs, he wore one black and one white stocking.
Around his waist was a ring of shredded rags.
And wrapped tightly around his chest was a large white cloth.
Drawn upon it was the national emblem of the Dwarven Empire—
two crossed hammers...
The burly minotaur, having stripped off his armor, now held a gaze so resolute it was as if he had seen through life and death.
“Yes! Exactly like this!”
Chiming in, Daviel pulled out a matching pair of black underpants from who-knows-where.
He pulled them over his head to cover his face, speaking with utter sincerity:
“Look, Sis, we disguised ourselves like this before we made our move. Those humans will absolutely never connect it to you.”
“...” After a half-second silence, Irene let out a rather helpless sigh.
“Forget it. I don't know you.”
With that, she turned around and walked out.
“Hey!” Daviel instantly panicked.
“Sis, don't go! I actually got a massive harvest from this trip!”
“Yes, I saw.”
Irene replied without looking back.
“You harvested a brilliantly bald head.”
“That's not it!” Embarrassed and annoyed, Daviel tried to run a hand through his hair, only to grasp empty air.
Only then did he remember that he had been beaten by that Gold Rank old mage until his scales littered the ground.
Without his scales, he ended up bald even after polymorphing.
This was also why he had been too afraid of losing face to return to the dragon's lair, choosing instead to hide and secretly nurse his wounds.
Seeing Irene leave without looking back, he hurriedly bent down and rummaged through the shattered wooden table, pulling out a stack of parchment sheets that had originally been used to prop up the table legs.
Taking several large strides, he ran ahead of Irene's group and thrust his hand forward.
“Look, Sis, I really got something!”
Irene gave him a suspicious look, took the stack of parchment, and scanned it. Her pupils dilated slightly, and she asked instinctively, “Where did you get this?”
Seeing that Irene was interested in what he had produced, Daviel's nose practically pointed to the sky. He put his hands on his hips and laughed:
“Hmph (.-`ω´-), snatched it right out of the hands of that old mage who beat me up! He chased me the entire way, but I still managed to escape ੭ ᐕ)੭*⁾⁾ Hahahahaha!!”
Irene frowned slightly, looking down at the parchment in her hand once more.
“...Is this really something that should exist in this world?”
At the very top of the parchment, several large words were written in the Common Tongue—
Imperial V-Type Power Armor Disassembly Blueprints.
Rate on N.U.
