The Meeting

Thrusting the prototype chainsword in her hand directly into the steel-cast floor, Irene turned her head, her golden eyes filled with solemnity. “Do those foolish humans actually want to wage war against me again?!”

“No, no, no... No, Your Grace.” The reporting half-beastkin shivered in fear, his mouth opening and closing in a stutter. It took him a while to finally get his tongue straight. “They... they said they are here to sign a non-aggression pact.”

“A non-aggression pact?”

A strange expression appeared on Irene's face.

Although she believed that her severe blow to the invading army of the Duchy of Reny was enough to make the Eastern Kingdoms wary for the time being—such that, after weighing their options, they would likely not act against her in the short term—

—she had never expected these humans to be so direct, backing down immediately to sign a non-aggression pact.

It felt as ridiculous as playing a 1v1 competitive game where, the moment you chip off a tiny bit of the opponent's health bar, they immediately surrender.

It gave Irene a strange sense of déjà vu, reminding her of a certain country from her past life that was notoriously famous for surrendering.

But then, a certain figure came to mind.

Her mother, the black dragon Sylvely.

Not long ago, Irene had received news that Sylvely had taken action herself. Capitalizing on the Duchy of Reny's massive invasion of the God-Forsaken Land, which had left its homeland defense empty, she had completely wiped it out.

In the end, it was only when the Eastern Kingdoms mobilized their Legendary experts that she was driven back to the Great Gana Forest.

Thinking about it this way, the root cause of the human nations seeking peace was probably Mother Dragon.

Since it involved one of her own kind—and her own mother at that—Irene couldn't help but delve deeper into her thoughts.

“Could this be a condition obtained through some shady deal Mother Dragon made after negotiating with the Eastern Kingdoms?”

This thought naturally popped into Irene's mind, and considering her mother's personality, she became increasingly convinced of it.

She didn't think this was her mother's “love” for her.

On the contrary, knowing how much black dragons—those wicked beasts—excelled at plotting, Irene felt that Mother Dragon simply viewed her as a cash cow that hadn't fully grown yet in her backyard garden.

As time went on, it was foreseeable that this backyard garden of the God-Forsaken Land would accumulate more and more wealth.

When the time came, as a neighbor separated only by a river, Mother Dragon would only need to lift a finger to easily harvest the ripe fruit, sweeping all that wealth into her own pockets.

“Tsk.”

Clicking her tongue, Irene shook her head rather helplessly. Once she figured this out, she no longer felt any burden. After giving Gar a few instructions to continue researching the chainsword's feasibility plans, she walked out of the Equipment Department, ready to meet the human envoys.

To her, though Mother Dragon was suspected of coveting her wealth, it was merely about money.

Although chromatic dragons had weak familial ties and turning against blood relatives was commonplace,

all chromatic dragons knew where to draw the line and rarely killed their own kind.

It certainly wasn't because they cherished old bonds, but because there was a bottom line they had to respect.

That was: they must not kill their own kind.

This was a rule set by Tiamat, the Mother of Evil Dragons. Among chromatic dragons, they could enslave and humiliate each other, but they absolutely could not kill.

Otherwise, given the sheer brutality of chromatic dragons, they wouldn't even need other races to intervene; their own civil wars would drive them to extinction.

When that happened, without any faith to sustain her, Tiamat would be finished too.

Thus, battles between chromatic dragons usually ended with one side handing over their treasure and admitting defeat.

With this bottom line in place, Irene wasn't too worried about Mother Dragon. She even viewed this somewhat far-fetched theory as Mother Dragon collecting a protection fee in exchange for giving her time to grow in peace.

If a day truly came in the future where she had to face her own mother and couldn't win, the worst she would have to do was hand over all her treasure.

As long as the dragon survived, making a comeback was only a matter of time.

Moreover, Irene had never cared much for treasure; she valued her own strength far more. Treasure was merely a tool to quickly enhance her power.

A dragon's true wealth would always be itself!

“Your Grace!”

Just as she emerged from the underground Equipment Department, Irene was greeted by the Imperial Guard led by Fido.

They struck their left chests with their right fists in unison, expressing their highest respect to Irene.

Every single one of them wore power armor. As the forces closest to Her Grace, their duty in the absence of other missions was to guard Irene's safety at all times.

However, because the Equipment Department had been filled with various machinery and scrap metal as experiments progressed, these giant metal hunks had no place to stand inside, leaving them with no choice but to guard outside.

“Let's go. Time to have some fun with the human envoys.”

Irene stepped through the path cleared by the Imperial Guard. Her expression remained neutral, but her light, brisk steps showed that she was in a fairly good mood.

“Yes!”

Fido was the first to respond, falling in step right behind Irene. As the third-in-command besides the two Graces, he had naturally heard the news of the humans coming to sue for peace, and his wide grin beneath his helmet already revealed a mouthful of fangs.

...

Amidst the yellow sands, beneath the obelisk carved with the names of fallen soldiers, the human delegation led by Vina was currently surrounded by broadsword-wielding members of the Imperial Guard in power armor.

“Your Holiness, the alchemical equipment these guys are wearing is so bizarre,” Guard Captain Laya whispered, leaning in close to Vina's ear.

As a warrior, she was also highly drawn to armor that possessed such a striking visual impact. If they weren't on opposing sides, she would have loved to go up and feel the texture of the plating.

“So what?” Vina curled her lips, glancing sideways at the suits of power armor. She muttered under her breath, “These are creations cursed by the great deity. Those two evil dragons are truly audacious, daring to research them on their own.”

“I have no idea where they dug up these ancient relics, but we must take them all back and hand them over to the Pope to be personally destroyed.”

Just then, the sound of approaching footsteps echoed from afar.

As the Imperial Guard surrounding the delegation voluntarily parted, Irene strolled out casually, as if taking a leisurely walk.

At first glance, Vina's eyes locked onto Irene as she approached.

Irene was currently dressed in a white robe, her black hair draped casually behind her, and her golden eyes were filled with an aggressive edge.

Coupled with her cold, elegant face...

Yet, for some inexplicable reason, Vina couldn't help but secretly grumble in her heart, Tsk... she's not as good-looking as me.

Her thoughts drifted slightly, and before she knew it, Irene had already stopped in front of her. Looking down at her from above, Irene's emotionless eyes locked onto hers, and a pressure unique to dragons pressed down upon her.

Vina immediately offered a church salute to Irene. Forcing down the various emotions swirling in her heart, she said stiffly, “Respected Her Grace, Irene, Vina Alice offers you her highest respects.”