"Power struggles, huh?" Saron mused. He found the idea of vying for control rather foolish. In a world of the supernatural, individual strength was what truly mattered. To him, followers were merely tools to enhance his own power. Why else would he bother to gather them?

For true dragons like himself, followers had multiple uses: They could be a show of force, soldiers in battle, or even food when necessary.

"Let's visit your tribe tomorrow, then," Saron declared.

A moment later, something else caught his eye. "By the way, this black fabric you're wearing—like stockings—is it self-made?" Saron inquired out of the blue.

"It's Black Membrane Silk, crafted from a magical plant. It helps conduct magical energy across my skin and prolongs the effects of my abilities," Winnie explained.

"Black Membrane Silk? Let's just call it 'Black Silk' from now on," Saron suggested, picking at the fabric on Winnie's arm with a claw far too large, inadvertently tearing it.

Saron looked at the torn thread on the ground, somewhat speechless at its fragility. The air felt still for a moment as Winnie instinctively touched the torn area.

"But it's already called Black Membrane Silk..." Winnie murmured in an attempt to clarify, not quite understanding the need for the name change.

"Just go with it," Saron concluded firmly.

"Okay!" Winnie nodded, albeit a little baffled.

Saron sighed inwardly. Despite his desires, there were things he still couldn't manage to do. By age, he might still be considered a young dragon, yet his size placed him as an adolescent. Dragons of his age could usually shape-shift into humanoid forms, such as humans or half-elves.

Most dragons didn't enjoy such transformations unless necessary, as their true forms allowed them to wield their full strength. Taking a humanoid shape could severely limit their power, and history was riddled with tales of dragons being ambushed while disguised as humans.

Yet, some dragons did enjoy living as humanoids. The silver dragons of the metallic family, for instance, would sometimes live in human cities for decades, taking human partners until their lovers passed away, then moving on.

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"Winnie, from now on, you'll serve as my maid," Saron suddenly declared, deciding not to waste the potential of the beast-eared girl.

"Ah, a maid?" Winnie's eyes widened in surprise.

"What's the matter? You don't like the idea?" Saron's gaze had a hint of menace as he looked at her.

"I'm willing!" Winnie quickly assented, exhaling a sigh of relief. She had heard of the capricious nature of chromatic dragons, and now she was experiencing it firsthand.

"Good. Prepare a maid's outfit and help me with cleaning my scales," Saron commanded as he lazily sprawled on the ground.

"Um..." Winnie hesitated for a moment.

She soon sprang into action, fetching a large stone basin from a corner and filling it with spring water from the cave. She carried the heavy basin over to Saron and began the task of washing him.

Saron felt something wasn't quite right and commented, "Use your little cat claws; you were pretty good with those before, weren't you?"

"At once!" Winnie's cheeks flushed as she extended three sharp, cat-like claws from each hand, and began to scratch at his scales.

"Mmm, not bad," Saron nodded with satisfaction, enjoying the tickling sensation. The company of a beast-eared girl was indeed comfortable.

In the midst of Saron's indulgence, Shadar burst in, urgency in his step.

"Lord Saron, that Cook has been incessantly demanding to see you!"

"Uh... Lord, what is this?" Shadar was puzzled to see the half-beast using her claws on Saron's back.

"It's none of your concern; she is helping me clean my armor!" Saron opened his eyes to address the situation.

"Lord Saron, would you like me to arrange for some of our troll women to assist you? They are stronger and faster than she could ever be!" Shadar offered.

The image of the burly female trolls with their yellow teeth came to Saron's mind, and he felt a wave of discomfort.

"Let them assist you," Saron said indifferently.

"Alright then," Shadar said, touching his head, wondering why Lord Saron didn't appreciate the 'flavor' of their female trolls, despite dragons being known to find beauty in all races.

"Bring Cook up here," Saron remembered Shadar's earlier words.

"As you command!"

Soon after, Cook, a minotaur, was brought forth by four troll guards, shackled in heavy chains that suppressed his magic and made his movements agonizingly cumbersome.

"Black Dragon, we've wronged you, but Winnie is a good girl. I hope you won't harm her!" Cook started speaking as soon as he laid eyes on Saron.

"She is mine now, and I would not harm her," Saron stated with interest.

"What have you done to her?" Cook noticed a strand of black fabric on the ground, recognizing it as part of Winnie's attire.

"Brother Cook, I'm fine!" Winnie peeked out from behind Saron, wiping the sweat from her brow and walking happily toward Cook.

"It's good to see you're alright," Cook sighed with relief seeing Winnie unharmed.

"Brother Cook, I've decided that our Rose Tribe will become Lord Saron's followers," Winnie spoke earnestly.

"What? He's a vile dragon!" Cook exclaimed in panic. How could such a pure girl serve under a wicked dragon?

Before Cook could continue, Shadar slapped him hard across the face, knocking him to the ground.

"Our master is merciful, and yet you dare to be insolent," Shadar said expressionlessly as blood trickled from Cook's mouth.

"Brother Cook!" Winnie moved to help him up, but Saron blocked her with his claw.

"A stubborn bull indeed!"

"Shadar, put all the minotaur warriors, including this Cook, to work in the mines. They will work ten times harder than goblins and kobolds, or they'll go hungry. And their food will be worse than the goblins'", Saron ordered coldly.

"Tell them this is the price of Cook's arrogance!"

"As you command!" Shadar picked up Cook by his horns and dragged him away.

"Master, please!" As soon as Shadar left, Winnie knelt down, even her address to Saron had changed to 'master'.

"This is the price they must pay. Prepare for tomorrow's visit to your tribe," Saron stated, closing his eyes without further attention to her.

Winnie's sobbing echoed softly beside him, but Saron no longer paid her any mind.