After tending to all matters at hand, Saron left the area and made his way back to the secluded canyon deep within the territory of the former Vilefang Tribe. As he stepped into the cave that served as his lair, his eyes were greeted with a delightful surprise — a genuine brightness that lit up the cavern.
The cave was dotted with exquisitely carved topaz stones, transparent and gleaming with even the faintest spark of firelight. It was said that some nobles on the continent indulged in the luxury of using topaz as decorative material for their homes.
To the left, mountain spring water had been redirected to form a small, serene pool, while at the very center of the cave, a colossal stone chair had been erected. The chair was draped with an assortment of animal hides arranged in a pattern that resembled a majestic dragon.
"Lord Saron, you've returned!" Winnie and Mischa, who were busily adorning the top of the cave, nimbly leaped down to land before Saron.
"Did you two do this?" Saron inquired, his gaze sweeping over them, stirring an unusual feeling within him.
"Do you not like it, my lord?" Winnie's heart tightened. It was common knowledge that black dragons preferred swampy bogs for their dwellings. Yet, to her, Saron seemed different from the other dragons. After her last visit, she had noticed that Saron appeared to favor cleanliness.
She had decided on these changes in hopes of fostering a better relationship. "You've done well," Saron said slowly, giving them a glance before sprawling comfortably onto the stone chair. It was truly comfortable!
"By the way, Winnie, remember to add 'meow' to the end of your sentences from now on," Saron suddenly instructed, looking at Winnie. A catfolk that didn't meow seemed somewhat lacking to him.
"Meow...?" Winnie was puzzled. She was a cat-woman, not an actual cat, and there was a difference between her species and felines.
"Why should I do that, Lord Saron, meow?" Winnie added the word, feeling somewhat embarrassed after speaking.
"Perfect!" Saron expressed his satisfaction. That was the catfolks' charm he was familiar with. It was a delightful feeling!
"And Mischa, from now on, you'll wear black sheer tights or 'black silk,'" Saron turned his attention to Mischa, the rabbit-eared girl. Mischa was still a bit stunned, not quite understanding why Saron would have such requests, especially the 'meowing'.
"Understood!" Mischa agreed, not entirely sure about the black dragon's peculiar tastes, but she had committed to follow him, and so she would.
This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
"Can you two dance?" Saron suddenly asked, reminiscing about the live dance videos he had seen in his previous life. He imagined Mischa and Winnie, alongside the half-orc ladies, forming a girl group to dance for him. That would certainly add an interesting element to life, a welcome change from the endless cycle of eating.
"We're not very good at it..." Winnie managed a strained smile, sensing her days ahead might not be as pleasant as she had hoped.
Saron, however, felt no such pressure. In his previous life, the unique social structure came with its own set of restraints: the pressures of family, work, and mortgages were suffocating. He had to abandon his hobbies and become a part of the workforce, which was undoubtedly disheartening. But in this world, he was the malevolent dragon, free to do as he pleased—becoming a Dragon King was not out of the question.
Was it the absence of constraints that allowed the darker aspects of human nature to be fully unleashed, or was it the innate nature of the black dragon influencing him? Saron didn't mind this feeling at all; the freedom to act without regard for convention was liberating. To a malicious dragon, concepts like courtesy, justice, integrity, and shame were meaningless.
"If I abandon morality, then you have no means to bind me!" he thought to himself. Of course, he'd need to grow stronger before he could do whatever he wished. For now, he was just growing.
After a while, Winnie and Mischa were ready to present their dance to Saron. He watched intently as they performed what seemed to be a traditional half-orc dance, almost ritualistic, creating the illusion of a musical play.
To Saron, the dance was mediocre, but the exceptional beauty of Winnie and Mischa lent it some flavor. The lack of music, however, was a letdown. "Stop," Saron said, feeling a trace of disappointment.
Winnie and Mischa ceased dancing and bowed to Saron.
"Lord Saron, did we not please you?" Winnie wiped the sweat from her forehead, a look of concern crossing her face. Mischa's rabbit ears drooped in disappointment.
"You can try this: twist your hips like this, then incorporate some hand gestures," Saron instructed with his piercing red eyes focused intently on them. He started to teach them moves from the hip-shaking dances and seaweed dances he remembered from videos in his past life. Mischa's ears perked up instantly at the new direction.
...
Outside the original Rose Tribe territory, a small squad of swordsmen clad in lightweight armor surveyed the surroundings. "Captain Walker, this place used to be a half-orc tribe, but now, why are there so many evil creatures like forest trolls and goblinoid kobolds?" One of the soldiers asked, observing the bustle of the forest trolls at work.
"If there are no half-orcs in sight, it means their tribe has been decimated. Forest trolls are known to devour the corpses of their enemies... The kobolds and goblins are likely enslaved by them," Walker, the sturdy swordsman and captain, speculated.
"What do we do now?"
"Our orders are to investigate the whereabouts of the previous slaver group and the state of the mithril ore veins. Let's head to the mithril mines first to assess the situation," Walker commanded. They were the most loyal soldiers of the Volton family, hence they were assigned to such specialized tasks. They were instructed by Lord Talrom to prioritize the mines.
The squad, ghost-like, quietly melted into the jungle, perfectly missing the convoy of carts carrying ore that had just arrived at the Rose Tribe's site. "Hurry up, we need to get this ore delivered fast!" the goblin leader Vicks shouted at his subordinates, feeling like he had reached the pinnacle of his life. The forest trolls, who used to treat him as a slave and food, now respected him. No longer did he have to worry about being devoured on a whim. All thanks to the great Black Dragon His Majesty.
The smelting of mithril ore was a complex process, requiring a special furnace and a powder made from a particular plant to successfully produce the metal up to the required standard. Fortunately, Vicks had been forced to learn advanced smelting techniques during his time as a slave in the human world. He planned to experiment here before presenting the smelted mithril to the great Black Dragon.
Meanwhile, in the cave, Saron watched the dance for a while before contentedly sending Mischa and the others to rest. Though they were somewhat reserved due to certain reasons, resulting in a performance that fell short of his past-life memories, it was still a pleasing sight. Unfortunately, Saron was unable to participate in such activities.
Physically, he was a standard young dragon, albeit much stronger than the average. However, he frustratingly found himself unable to perform the transformation spell he so desired.