While countless thoughts were warring in Willo's mind, Adele hurried to a secluded corner, pulled out a Sending Stone from her pocket, and infused it with magical power to listen to the message within.
Her eyes shone—the long-awaited good news had finally arrived, and she couldn't help but feel a burst of excitement.
She then turned, glancing at Ines, who was still standing atop the dais, rallying the minotaurs. The light in her eyes flickered continuously.
Liberl Port, Central District, Blue Dragon Bank, first floor, meeting room.
At the large round table, Charles was enjoying what was perhaps the finest gourmet food in the entire city, prepared by a team of top chefs. He appeared perfectly at ease, with his spirit and body steeped in delight.
After putting a morsel of roast meat—crisp outside, tender inside—into his mouth, he savored the explosion of oil and seasonings on his tongue, radiating an expression of pure pleasure.
Once he swallowed, he picked up the goblet of tart red wine at his side, took a sip to cleanse his palate, and gave a satisfied sigh.
Even though the poor in the South Harbor District still led lives harsher than the Middle Ages, the high society of Liberl Port could already savor gourmet cuisine beyond even the reach of most in the modern world.
What a world of difference!
So Charles mused, while, across the table, the blue dragon Rahman dined at a similarly unhurried pace on his smoked camel meat.
Dragons are not particularly expressive, but Charles could clearly sense that this creature was in high spirits.
It wasn't only the gourmet food, but also two pieces of news—one good, one bad.
The good news: the dwarves had placed an enormous order for ion beam emitters.
Though Rahman had not invented these devices and the profits weren't his, earning the gratitude of his brother was far greater than mere gold.
The bad news: the hunting party sent by the gold dragonborn had met a disastrous defeat, casting another shadow over the city's security.
By rights, he ought to be worried, but the thought of the gold dragonborn suffering a setback made the blue dragon's lips curl upward.
Serves them right!
And the root of it all sat opposite him—the Seinite named Nigel Charles.
Because of his agreement with Daevyl, Charles couldn't reveal every detail, but he was able to share an overview in his own way with Rahman.
Naturally, without solid proof or thorough details, the credibility of such news would normally be low. Whether to believe it or not came down to trust between the two.
Rahman, of course, chose to believe everything—and felt immense pleasure because of it.
The blue dragon had never imagined that a young human could bring him so many surprises. In just half a year, not only had his investment paid off, he'd done his brother a favor, and now held the gold dragonborn's embarrassment in his hands—a thousandfold profit!
This only made him more determined to keep this promising talent within his grasp.
With these thoughts, he dismissed his Mage Hand, then looked at Charles across the table: "You've accomplished quite a lot for me this time. I'm very satisfied."
"Tell me, is there anything you need or any assistance I can provide? If it's a matter money can solve, it's no problem."
Charles paused mid-bite, a hint of hesitation in his eyes. In truth, he felt he didn't need anything urgent—the funds at his disposal were ample, but what he truly lacked was manpower.
There were still too few nuns at the monastery. But he had only recently gained wider fame, and mostly in the South Harbor District, so expansion wasn't realistic yet.
He needed more time to lay foundations, not rush things. After all, he'd only been in this world for barely half a year.
So he shook his head. "Thank you for your generosity, Prince Rahman, but I don't have any pressing needs at the moment. If I do, I'll be sure to return with a request."
With increasing contact, Charles found it easier and more natural to interact with this blue dragon. Background guides always said: as long as you show enough respect and acknowledge the blue dragons' superiority, they are the easiest dragons to deal with.
Especially when it came to a prince like Rahman, who was so wealthy he was almost burdened by riches, forced to dream up new ways to spend his hoard every day.
Rahman nodded. "Very well."
He turned to the blue dragonborn secretary at his side. "Go to my personal treasury and take out ten thousand dragon crowns. Consider it my private sponsorship."
The blue dragonborn nodded and left. Charles immediately straightened, looking flustered. "Uh…"
Ten thousand dragon crowns—one hundred thousand gold pieces in cash. To drop such a windfall into Charles's lap…
He'd known blue dragons were wildly wealthy and spent lavishly, but experiencing it firsthand still shattered his worldview.
As if noticing his reaction, Rahman shook his head. "Don't refuse, dear Charles. That money just gathers dust in my vault, taking up my already limited living space and annoying me."
"We're friends, so I believe you are obliged to help me with this problem, aren't you?"
Charles: "…Alright, Prince Rahman. I'll help you solve this problem."
A smile appeared at the corners of Rahman's mouth. "So, what are your next plans? Now that you know how terrifying Montport is, will you still head deeper into the mountains?"
Charles nodded. "Of course. I still have unfinished business there."
He'd already promised Daevyl he would meet the informant within the Alliance of the Mountain Purifiers, and see how this intel could be used to ruin the Highmountain tribe.
He had also told Anno about this plan. Even though she despised the Alliance of the Mountain Purifiers, she agreed to put personal grudges aside and prioritize rooting out the demon mole planted by the Abyssal Lord.
After all, all mortal sapient beings were creations of the gods, and no matter who died in their struggles, their souls would return to their own deity.
But if killed by demons, their souls would become food for evil, strengthening the power of the Infinite Layers of the Abyss.
That was simply unacceptable.
So, Anno agreed to the plan and arranged a meeting with Charles and the informant.
Hearing this, Rahman nodded thoughtfully: "I support your decision, dear Charles."
"But I have a question: have you ever considered becoming a hero?"
Charles blinked. "What do you mean?"
"To be precise, a member of a hero's party," Rahman clarified. "Someone needs to lead the hunt for the Abyssal Lord, Montport. Even if Blackstaff Tower is otherwise occupied, Montport must die."
"In the past, it was always the gold dragonborn who organized these expeditions, but as you can see, they have failed. It's unlikely they'll rally another group soon. So now, the burden falls to other powers."
His eyes gleamed with ambition: "We usually just provide financial support, but perhaps this time things could be different."
"I'm considering saving a spot for you and your team to join the expedition. After Montport is slain, the bank can make you into a true hero."
Charles didn't hesitate to shake his head. "I refuse."
Rahman was startled: "Uh?"
He thought Charles might decline, but hadn't expected such a swift and direct refusal.
"My strength is too meager, nothing compared to those seasoned adventurers," Charles explained. "Great deeds should be left to the real big shots. I can only do my part by hunting demons in their wake. That's the best I can hope for."
"So you'd best find someone more suitable for such a thing!"
There was no way Charles would wade into that chaos, joining a makeshift group under someone else's command. Montport was obviously trouble, and if the leader decided to use him and his nuns as cannon fodder, what then?
So, he would never accept such a mission.
Rahman was silent for a while, then sighed and nodded. "You're quite right. I got ahead of myself, trying to throw you into the fire."
After a pause, he added, "In that case, as my apology, Charles, I insist you accept another ten thousand dragon crowns."
Charles: "?"
Wait—blue dragon or not, isn't this a bit much?!
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