Vol 7. Chapter 31: Master of Negotiation

The third round of the negotiation skill test was, to some extent, tied to the dragon-blood network among the sub-dragon races.

When faced with a rare treasure like the Emerald Dragon’s Tears, the advantage offered by the dragon-blood link was minimal—at most, it could make the negotiation a little smoother.

In the end, everything still depended on the candidate's eloquence and cunning.

Everyone left the office and gathered at the gates of Saint Heath Academy. After a brief discussion among the three Dragon Kings—they each transformed into their dragon forms and flew off.

Claudia’s gaze lingered briefly on their retreating figures, then turned back to Leon and Isha.

"Have you both decided who you’re negotiating with?"

Isha shrugged.

"My brother-in-law said he already had someone in mind, didn’t he?"

Claudia raised her elegant eyebrows and looked to Leon.

"So? Who is it?"

Leon spread his hands.

"Well, given how deep my bloodline runs in your dragon clans, wherever I go, they’ve got to show me at least a little face, don’t you think?"

Claudia snorted a laugh and bluntly tore through the facade.

"True. When it comes to asking people for things, you’re... remarkably authoritative."

Claudia took the opportunity to tease Leon, bringing up his glorious track record of mooching off others.

Fortunately, Leon’s face was thick enough that he no longer gave a damn.

"Alright then, let’s each do our best," Isha said, taking a few steps forward and spreading her dragon wings. Then she paused and looked back over her shoulder.

"Brother-in-law, want a ride?"

"No need. I’ve got my own personal ride."

With that, Leon whistled, and his six-winged dragon hawk descended from the sky, its wings sweeping down with a powerful gust as it landed steadily behind him.

"This ride doesn’t need feeding, doesn’t break down, and knows to find shelter when it rains. Low maintenance, really."

Isha smiled.

"Good. Safe travels."

With a sweep of her red dragon wings, she soared skyward.

After exchanging simple goodbyes, Claudia also departed.

Leon climbed onto the back of his birdy buddy, gave its feathered wing a pat, and said:

"Let’s go. Time to find someone willing to lend us some Emerald Dragon’s Tears."

——

After several hours of flying, Leon arrived in the heart of the Redflame Dragon Clan’s territory.

Under normal circumstances, a mid-to-large dangerous creature like a six-winged dragon hawk flying close to the outskirts of any dragon clan’s domain would be immediately attacked—no warnings, no mercy.

But Leon Casmod was no normal visitor.

His reputation preceded him. Every dragon knew that the Silver Dragon Prince Leon didn’t fly on his own—he always rode in style on his hawk. Very efficient.

Any dragon who caught sight of him would inevitably say:

"The Prince really knows how to live."

To which Leon would always laugh it off. But internally, he’d complain:

"Like hell I’m gonna tell you oversized lizards that I don’t know how to fly."

Back to the main point.

The reason Leon wasn’t intercepted while entering even the core zone of the Redflame Dragon Clan was thanks to a special pass that allowed him unrestricted access.

When he arrived at the Redflame Dragon Sanctuary, Leon hopped down from his hawk.

"Wait here for me."

The dragon hawk nodded and lightly flapped its wings.

Then Leon walked into the front courtyard of the sanctuary.

Old Constantine’s home was built in a famous traditional style—authentic dragon-architecture, heavy and solemn. To the untrained eye, just one glance was enough to evoke awe: “Damn, this is serious business.”

One notable thing: patrolling around the sanctuary were not only Redflame Dragon warriors, but also members of the Void Realm.

After the great war, the Void Alliance and the continent’s Void faction had reached a sort of truce. Before leaving to assume his post at the Palace of Time with Safina, Kaiser had arranged for the Homeland faction’s staff to be reassigned under Leon’s care.

Leon had settled some of the Homeland Voidlings here under Constantine’s command.

Previously, during the chaos caused by the parting gift that blew up half of Constantine’s base and killed countless of his clansmen, the Redflame territory had been devastated. Though it was slowly recovering and the population was growing again, it still hadn’t reached its former scale.

Thus, Leon placed some of the Homeland faction here to temporarily support their manpower. The rest had been assigned either to the Empire or Sky City.

"Lord Leon? Why have you come?"

A young woman from the Homeland faction immediately approached him with enthusiasm.

Leon awkwardly scratched his head.

"Came to check in on an old friend. Oh right, I told you before—no need to call me ‘Lord.’ Just Leon is fine."

"Yes, Lord Leon."

The girl nodded seriously.

"...You guys’ ‘faction’ is the ‘Party’ in ‘Party Star,’ right?"

Leon chuckled and dropped the issue. People could call him however they liked—as long as it didn’t grate on his ears.

After a few more pleasantries with some Voidlings, Leon pushed open the sanctuary doors and stepped inside.

"Yo, Fire-breathing Lizard, long time no see."

From the doorway, Leon looked toward the throne. Constantine was seated there, eyes closed, resting.

This was one thing Leon liked about dealing with dragon leaders. Whether working or just showing off, they were always at their damn thrones on the first floor.

Humans? Not so reliable. Leon still remembered his years in the Phantom Dragon Army. Anytime he needed to get royal paperwork done, he had to run through half the departments, and no one would take responsibility.

On this point, dragon bureaucracy was at least clear—you knew where to find the boss.

The Redflame Dragon King slowly ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) opened his eyes. His deep crimson pupils swept over Leon, then...

Closed again. He frowned. Sighed.

Leon blinked.

"What the hell kind of reaction is that? Aren’t you happy to see me?"

"When danger looms, your presence guarantees safety," Constantine said slowly.

Leon blinked again. "Uh-huh... and?"

"When there’s no danger... you are the danger."

"...Stereotype! That’s a damn stereotype!"

Constantine didn’t bother arguing. He waved a hand.

"What do you want?"

"Can’t I just come visit you without an agenda? I consider you a friend."

"Don’t make me puke, Leon. It’s been years since I’ve had a physical gag reflex."

"..."

Leon pursed his lips. Okay, fine. Claudia was right. When it came to asking people for things, he really was authoritative.

So much so that Constantine could tell at a glance that he was here on business.

Might as well drop the pretense. Leon went straight to the point.

"I came to borrow—no, take—something."

"What do you want?"

"Emerald Dragon’s Tears."

"How many?"

"Ten pieces."

"Get out. Someone, show him the door."

Cue the classic scene:

Constantine: “I thought this was a negotiation!”

Leon: ejected

Five minutes later, he was back.

"Eight pieces. Come on."

"Escort him out."

Another five minutes later—

"Six! Come on, six isn’t so bad, right?"

"...Get out."

This time, though, Constantine hesitated.

Leon caught the brief flicker of emotion before the Redflame guards dragged him away.

Which meant... six might be within range. Leon knew it—people love compromising. Dragons too.

Five minutes later—

"Five! Five pieces, deal?"

This time, Constantine didn’t call for the guards.

Just as he opened his mouth, one of the guards suddenly raised his weapon, cutting him off.

"Prince, this way please."

Several guards politely escorted Leon to the exit.

Constantine’s face twitched.

"Wait! No need to kick him out."

The guards froze.

Constantine stood up, gestured for them to disperse, then tilted his head toward the back of the sanctuary.

"Come with me."

"You’re the best, Fire-breather!"

Leon eagerly followed.

Constantine led him down into the sanctuary’s underground chambers. They walked through a deep stone corridor until they reached a vault sealed by a heavy stone door.

Constantine raised his hand and infused his power into the door. It rumbled open.

A flash of golden light surged out. Inside was a treasure trove of artifacts and rare gems.

Even Leon couldn’t help but whistle.

"Whoa... didn’t know you were sitting on this much wealth."

"Dragons live long lives. Accumulating wealth isn’t hard. But things like Netherlotus or Emerald Dragon’s Tears—top-tier treasures that can’t be bought—those are rare."

Constantine led him into the treasure chamber.

"Every dragon king has a vault like this, storing the most precious artifacts for the sake of the clan’s future."

Leon listened quietly... then thought of something.

"Wait. When Shadow blew up your place last time, this vault didn’t get hit?"

Constantine rolled his eyes.

"It’s literally the foundation of the clan. You think it’s that easy to blow up?"

"...Fair."

They walked deeper.

At the center sat a crystal housing six emerald-green stones.

Fully-formed Emerald Dragon’s Tears.

Three other slots in the crystal stood empty—Constantine must’ve used one, and previous Redflame Kings had used two.

Even a clan as powerful as Redflame hadn’t escaped the devastation of the civil wars.

"Our ancestors obtained nine total. Six remain," Constantine said.

"You want five. Take them."

Leon froze.

"...That easy?"

Constantine nodded.

Leon pressed his lips together. He knew Constantine was loyal—but this was loyal loyal.

He’d planned to hit up Old Man Odin, Morgan, or even Taran if he couldn’t get enough here.

Who knew Fire-breather would just casually hand him five.

Leon hesitated, then couldn’t help asking:

"You’re not even going to ask me what I want them for?"

"Don’t care."

Constantine stared ahead. His voice was calm.

"Over the years, I’ve learned one thing, Leon."

"What?"

"The less I know about the things you’re involved in, the better."

...Another damn stereotype from Fire-breather.

"You need anything else?" Constantine asked blandly.

"Nope. This is plenty."

"Good."

Good.

...Wait.

Good???

That’s it? What about the ‘hard-mode negotiation challenge’? That’s the third round done just like that?!

"Hey. You leaving or not?"

Constantine’s voice snapped Leon from his thoughts.

He shook his head and called out:

"Yeah, coming!"

Clutching the five Emerald Dragon’s Tears, Leon jogged toward the exit.

As he passed a certain platform, he suddenly stopped.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of a golden-plated helmet on the stone dais.

It had sharp lines, a bold silhouette. Striking. Stylish.

"That was collected a thousand years ago by the previous Dragon King," Constantine said from behind.

"When I was young, I heard stories that it held the power to reignite the sun."

"...Oh."

"What? You want it too?"

Leon shook his head.

"Nah, nah... it just reminded me of my own Blackgold Chariot."

More precisely, where it had been kept during the two years he was unconscious—Rosvisser’s treasure vault.

Constantine had just explained that dragon kings stored their most precious things in vaults like this.

Even back then, before they truly knew and loved each other, Rosvisser had—kept his “prisoner’s” belongings safe in her vault.

For sentimental fools like Leon and Rosvisser, it was only natural to view the past through the lens of the present. There was nothing wrong with that.

It was just how they added warmth and romance to the quiet days they now shared.