Evil dragons would never surrender their wealth.
For dragonkind, which treasured riches as dearly as life itself, not even a dragon god could force them to relinquish their hoardsâlet alone a human noble, especially one as insignificant as a viscount.
Neither Sorog nor Samantha were exceptions.
Upon receiving the news, their first instinct was to slaughter the tax officers, skin them, dismantle their bones, and hang their remains along the trade route as a warning.
It was Garoth who restrained their fury.
For Garoth, parting with wealth was agonizing, but not entirely unbearable.
For the sake of greater development and long-term stability, he was willing to pay a price. Thus, he orchestrated the first negotiation with the tax officers from the shadows.
Through this negotiation,
Garoth sensed that the noble lord behind the tax officers wasnât seeking long-term benefits.
For instance, their insistence on back taxes for a full year and their refusal to lower the demand below three thousand gold coins made Garoth suspect they were trying to extort him.
However, it was also possible that the tax officers lacked sufficient authority, making this negotiation merely a probe.
Thus, Garoth offered a second chance, demanding that a higher-ranking envoy be sent for a more formal discussionâone where the "lord" of the Molten Iron Clan would personally appear.
"Sorog, Samantha."
"Donât let emotions override your rationality and composure."
Garothâs gaze was steady as he spoke. "This matter concerns our future development. Itâs no trivial affair. We must respond with calm and careful deliberation."
The authority of the Red Iron Dragon gradually soothed them.
Samanthaâs tail thumped the ground. "Three thousand gold coins? Why doesnât that greedy human just rob us outright?"
Her slit pupils contracted dangerously. "My stance remains unchangedâkill every one of those insolent insects who dare provoke us, and dismantle their alchemical golems."
She lifted her head, sparks flaring from her nostrils.
"The wilderness has always belonged to the strong. What weight do human laws hold?!"
"Their deaths will deliver a far clearer message than any tax."
Garoth remained silent, turning his gaze to the iron dragon Sorog.
The iron dragonâs claws gouged deep furrows into the earth. "Human nobles understand neither respect nor fear. They arrogantly label all non-humans as monstersâeven lumping us dragons into that category."
"Hmph! If we yield to taxes today, theyâll demand we serve as mounts tomorrow!"
Though more level-headed than Samantha, Sorogâa true-blooded evil dragonârefused to concede even an inch when it came to wealth.
"Slaughter the tax officers first. Let the humans learn weâre not to be trifled with!"
For once, the iron dragon and the red dragon were in agreement.
Garoth finally spoke, his deep voice resonating through the rain.
"Starting a war outright would be the most foolish choice. Have you considered that if we kill a tax officer today, the Lothrian Federationâs knight order might arrive tomorrow?"
He continued, "Everything weâve built here over the years could be destroyed in an instant."
Pausing, Garoth narrowed his eyes, his tone shifting.
"But if they insist on war... then weâll give them war!"
At worst, it would end in mutual destruction, forcing them to relocate again.
Truthfully, the appearance of the tax officers and the viscountâs hostility had already made Garoth acutely aware of the lurking danger.
Their peaceful days were over.
The Molten Iron Clan had been forced into the spotlight.
And this was only the beginning. More scrutiny and probing would follow. If their existence as dragons were exposed, theyâd face dangerous sieges and extermination campaigns.
Compared to the wealth three dragons could offer,
the Molten Iron Clanâs accumulated trade route profits were insignificant.
Dragon hunting represented immense wealth and glory in the eyes of human nobles. Evil dragons, especially, had no powerful backers to fear, and hybrid dragons like Garoth were rare prizes of extraordinary value.
Worse still, the viscount behind the tax officers seemed desperate for wealth.
If their identities as dragons were discovered, the consequences would be dire.
Garothâs plan was simple:
If negotiations succeeded, they would continue lying low, gathering resources while waiting for opportunities.
If negotiations failed,
he would flip the table. Before the human legions could mobilize, he would strike firstâinflicting heavy losses on the noble who disrupted their peace, then swiftly evacuating with everything of value.
Dragons didnât spend their long lives rooted to one territory.
Garoth felt little attachment to this land. When he first claimed the Serpentine Earth Rift for its resources, heâd already anticipated this day.
"For the next formal negotiation, weâll need a figurehead âlordâ to represent us."
Garothâs gaze swept over the two young dragons. "Our true natures must remain hidden, or weâll invite extermination. Karu will pose as the clanâs lord during the talks."
Sorog and Samantha voiced no objections.
They were no longer naive wyrmlings ignorant of the worldâs dangers. They knew full well the consequences if their identities as evil dragons were exposed.
Then, Sorog mused quietly, "What we need... is a metal dragon among us."
Iron Hybrid Dragons and true metal dragons shared an uneasy history.
In ancient times, Iron Hybrids had been part of the metallic dragonkind, but for unknown reasons, they were exiled, forming their own separate lineage. The relationship between the two remained strained.
Yet despite this, Sorog still desired a metal dragon ally.
On one hand, his dream of a dragon empire included metallic dragons.
On the other, metal dragonsâ reputation as good-aligned beings offered immense advantages. Many nobles took pride in befriending themâunlike evil dragons, who faced immediate hostility.
Samantha stated bluntly, "I despise metal dragons. I refuse to coexist with one."
Garothâs eyes narrowed slightly. Though he said nothing, he privately agreed with Sorog.
The iron dragon was rightâa group composed solely of evil dragons was too conspicuous and dangerous.
Despite being a red-iron hybrid and a natural-born evil dragon who disliked metal dragons, Garoth could suppress his instincts. Logically, he recognized that a metal dragon figurehead could resolve many unnecessary troubles.
But solitary metal dragons were rare.
After careful thought, Garoth could only recall the brass dragon obsessed with riddles.
Over a decade had passed since their last encounter. That brass dragon should now be over 25 years oldâreaching young adulthood.
"If I meet that brass dragon again..."
"Iâll find a way to recruit it."
A metal dragonâs presence would give potential attackers pause, forcing them to reconsider.
Looking back, Garoth regretted his earlier brutality. He vowed that if he ever encountered the brass dragon Deborah again, he wouldnât rob herâinstead, heâd treat her amiably.
Next,
Garoth instructed the Gluttonous Ogre Karu to pose as the Molten Iron Clanâs lord during negotiations, while Samantha forged armor to conceal his draconic features.
Despite Karuâs brutish appearance, he was cunning enough for the task.
Days passed swiftly.
A week later, Viscount Iron Thornâs envoys still hadnât arrived.
However, the Molten Iron Clanâs monsters noticed a troubling trendâtrade caravans along the Serpentine Earth Rift had dwindled by nearly a third, with numbers continuing to drop, disrupting their commerce.
Upon questioning merchants, they learned Viscount Iron Thorn had raised the routeâs tolls to the legal maximum.
While Federation trade laws set toll ceilings, few routes ever charged the full limit. Now, with the Serpentine Earth Riftâs exorbitant fees, many merchants avoided it altogether.
To prevent tax evasion,
tax officers and the alchemical golem "Dauntless" now camped at the routeâs entrance, personally inspecting every caravan.
Garoth recognized this as the viscountâs power playâa pre-negotiation pressure tactic.
The message was clear: if the Molten Iron Clan refused to pay, the viscount had countless ways to torment "primitive beasts."
Though this harmed long-term profits, the viscount prioritized short-term gains. His wealth wasnât solely tied to this route, giving him leverage.
Additionally,
tribal sorcerers discovered hidden tracking alchemical devices among recent trade goods.
Foreseeing such tactics, Garoth had established strict protocols: all traded goods underwent thorough inspections by multiple sorcerers before entering their territory, with draconic supplies scrutinized even more harshly.
This caution prevented their core territoryâs exposure.
The tracking devices undoubtedly came from Viscount Iron Thornâeither to intensify pressure or prepare for failed negotiations by locating their stronghold.
But he underestimated Garothâs prudence.
As a precaution against more advanced tracking tools, Garoth ordered all recent goods left scattered in the wilderness, halting trade entirely.
The decoy trackers were dumped in territories of fearsome magical beasts.
Any scouts following those signals would find not the Molten Iron Clan, but deadly predators lying in wait.
Though formal negotiations hadnât begun, the invisible battle was already underway.