"Your divine power is indeed as legendary as the wrath of the heavens descending!"

Eucerolot struggled to restrain the furious Gryphon that tried to lunge forward, flattering in an extremely standard draconic dialect.

Raphael gripped the two broken pillars tightly with his forepaws, his body lowered as he gazed up at the prince from below. His two pairs of wings flapped restlessly.

Eucerolot became wary again, for the dracology told him that this posture signified the dragon's extreme distrust of the outside world, or that it was preparing to hunt.

"Why is your mount so tense?" Crimson Dragon slowly opened his mouth, looking at the Gryphon suppressing a surge of madness.

"It may have smelled the bloody scent of its kind. To accustom Gryphons to human, they are raised with exceptional unity - each member is considered family." Eucerolot sweated profusely as he restrained his companion.

Raphael then recalled that he had indeed slain countless Gryphons, at least thousands, his claws drenched in the blood of these synthetic beasts.

"It seems you are well-versed in certain courtesies and know to respect power. That's commendable." He skipped over this issue and slowly raised a claw, speaking gently.

"But that does not mean I will let down my guard. You took an immense risk coming before me, so you must have an ulterior motive!" Raphael then pondered with deep malice.

"I have come to request your assistance, which will bring you a generous reward," Eucerolot spoke slowly.

Raphael burst into laughter. "I do not think a human prince would need a dragon's help! Quickly reveal your deeper purpose! You should know that out of respect for your status, I have already been extremely tolerant. Those so-called brave warriors who dared to approach me alone, believing themselves strong, often met particularly gruesome ends!"

"I hope you can release Cornet, for which I can pay a price satisfactory to you."

"Cornet? Who?"

Raphael, the "lord of all affairs," naturally could not remember the name of a mere prisoner of war, even if that person was the supreme commander.

"......"

Eucerolot had just begun engaging with the Erl regime and was not yet clear about its inner workings. Hearing that Crimson Dragon knew nothing about Cornet, he could not help but furrow his brow:

"You should be the one truly in power here, right? Everyone knows you single-handedly conquered this place."

the prince did not believe this demonic dragon was truly so ethically upright as to provide free labor for the dwarves.

"Naturally," Raphael opened his mouth. "My power is comparable to the sun and moon - eternal and undying!"

"Then your subordinates must be handling these matters. Cornet is the supreme commander of the allied forces you defeated. He is of great use to me. I hope you can release him immediately, along with the other soldiers."

Raphael now understood.

He had planned to ransom the prisoners of war for money anyway and had been looking for an opportunity to contact the humans. Now someone had conveniently arrived.

"So that's what this is about," Raphael thought to himself.

"What price are you willing to pay, then?"

Crimson Dragon opened his mouth like a greedy golden serpent, his scales glittering brilliantly under the moonlight's reflection.

"Anything you can imagine!" Eucerolot did not even try to bargain but boldly declared his willingness to meet any demand.

"A ruse!"

Raphael immediately became suspicious. "There's no way a human could be so magnanimous, especially as he is a prince!"

Just as he was pondering how to uncover the underlying motive, the prince candidly revealed the internal situation to him.

"Oh? The environment within your ranks is indeed so complex."

The state of affairs among the imperial elite astonished Raphael.

"Correct. The chief instigator of this war, Cornet De DeLuca, is one of my two crucial pieces in the military. The other is Marshal Cale, but he is already advanced in age and cannot act recklessly, as all sides are closely watching him. In reality, the Command Headquarters is under Lucas's control."

Eucerolot, raised with professional royal education from a young age, knew the wisest approach in negotiations was to speak not a single lie but the plain truth in the most sincere language.

After all, the dragon could not go before the emperor to tattle, so revealing the truth did no harm.

"Turning against one's own kin, a father and son at odds... You came here for fear of being killed upon your return, didn't you?" Raphael understood the reasoning.

"Correct," Eucerolot answered with casual dignity. "Without my two chess pieces in the military, I will lose all legitimate armed forces. If I dare privately assemble a large guard force, it would only provide a pretext against me. I must have Cornet return to help me. At the very least, this way, DeLuca family will not fall, and I will still possess sufficient force."

His elder brothers and sisters respectively controlled the Imperial Police Force, the Military Industrial Production Alliance, and the Imperial Hunting Department, legally commanding vast numbers of armed personnel or stockpiling weapons. This allowed them to maintain offensive postures while ostensibly preparing for contingencies.

Moreover, the emperor directly oversaw various military divisions.

Only Eucerolot's power was the weakest, though he controlled the realm of public opinion across the entire empire.

Traditional elite education had taught the princes and princesses that military might was paramount, so they did not place much importance on the increasingly crucial cultural domain.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

However, culture was far too subtle a force. Having lost his chess piece in the Command Headquarters, Eucerolot now faced the crisis of being exposed, constantly at risk of being utterly defeated and killed. He had to reclaim his "weapon."

Raphael listened with relish, as though being told a story, the tale of humans turning against their own kind bringing him rare joy from the depths of his heart.

"Interesting, but what use is a defeated commander to you? My advisors informed me that the consequences of your failed war were too severe. The general responsible for this disaster would likely face universal resentment - everyone would want him dead! He's nothing but a foul burden."

However, Eucerolot shook his head. "I do not intend for Cornet to lurk within the Command Headquarters at my disposal as before but to use him to buy favor and serve as insurance for my life."

"What?" Crimson Dragon heard an operation he could not comprehend and grew curious about the prince's plan.

"In any case, I have now informed you of the cause and origins of this matter. You need only fulfill our agreed-upon terms," Eucerolot said no more and closed his mouth, awaiting a response.

Raphael's thoughts raced. "My aim is to keep the gold forever by my side, so this 'Erl' protective shell must function smoothly. On the other hand, the more chaos among the humans, the better, for then they cannot unite their forces against me..."

"No problem!"

After pondering for a while, he nodded vigorously with a toothy grin.

"What are your terms?"

"I want you to firmly refuse when the empire sends diplomatic envoys to negotiate ransoming the prisoners of war."

"?" Raphael's mouth opened involuntarily. Didn't he just say he wanted to quickly ransom this person called Cornet?

Eucerolot forcefully squeezed his Gryphon's flanks to prevent it from madly trying to lunge forward again.

"Correct. No matter how the imperial diplomats bargain, plead, or threaten, ignore them all and refuse outright. Then, wait until my people appear at the negotiation and only agree then."

"You mean to take all the credit for yourself?" Raphael discerned his intent. "You can't do it without me?"

"Precisely." Eucerolot candidly admitted it. "And the prisoners must be released in batches, with my people having to intercede each time for approval."

"Very well. As long as you pay enough, these minor details are no problem." Raphael waved his paw, indicating he no longer wished to discuss it, having heard enough of the story.

"Then what do you desire?" Eyeing the sprawling golden riches, Eucerolot's heart clenched, apprehensive of this avaricious demonic dragon's gluttonous demands.

......

In the dead of night, a swift Gryphon silhouette slipped out of Pillar Mountain, flanked fore and aft by blood wyverns as escorts. The big blood wyvern Mary herself even flew at the front, leading the way.

Riding the Gryphon, Eucerolot inwardly winced with pain.

"Had I known, I would not have been so ostentatious upon arriving. But that was to let my father and third brother's agents spying on me lower their guard."

Perhaps it was the series of grandiose displays from his arrival via the ironclad that left a deep impression on Crimson Dragon, for Raphael could not be considered restrained in his demands.

He wanted an immense amount of grain and various readily-harvested alchemical materials totaling thousands of tons, plus the findings of the DeLuca magical research laboratories regarding draconic subjects.

These were just the terms of their private transaction. During the official negotiations to ransom the prisoners of war, he could still profit handsomely.

For the sake of his future grand strategy, Eucerolot pinched his nose and signed the magical contract Raphael presented, agreeing to deliver the goods first before the deed.

To safeguard this "money tree," Crimson Dragon had specially arranged for blood wyvern escorts to accompany him all the way back. Should they encounter any patrolling Gryphon knights by chance, they were to slaughter them outright, citing that this was now Erl territory.

"But as long as the core imperial market remains, I can keep reaping profits. I need not fear bankruptcy," Eucerolot calculated how much this would cost in his mind.

Such substantial resource transactions would undoubtedly require greasing numerous palms, dispatching personnel to protect the secret, then smuggling the goods across borders. The lion's share would go toward those expenses.

He was still lost in calculations when the passage of time escaped his notice, until the big blood wyvern Mary's words reminded him.

"We've arrived. You may go now."

"Oh, fair lady, allow me to bid you farewell." Eucerolot bowed gracefully, maintaining courtesy toward any female as part of his self-cultivation.

"Farewell." Mary smiled faintly before turning her wings to depart, a unique charm in her manner that startled the prince's heart.

"It seems the female dragon kin possess an exotic allure, how do they compare to those synthetic female beasts bred solely to pleasure men," Eucerolot recalled the "special products" offered by the DeLuca family, which had once ensnared his dragon fascination from youth.

But now was a crucial juncture; he could not be distracted by such things.

"Your Highness." The patrolling Gryphon knights had now gathered around him as he returned from this night's clandestine mission. This knight was part of Marshal Cale's loyalists in the military, and Cale himself was a staunch supporter of the Fourth Crown Prince.

"The matter is settled. Let us depart," Eucerolot produced a pair of goggles from his pocket and donned them, joining his companions in returning to the ironclad as the dawn's glow gradually brightened the sky.

......

Elsewhere, after a four-day journey on foot, Akuniryas finally arrived at the outskirts of Brugen City in the southern continent.

The various plights he witnessed among the surviving Morey refugees along the way pained his heart immensely.

For the empire, this defeat was merely a minor setback, but for Morey it was akin to being flayed alive.

The dragon's shadow looming over the land meant none dared return to the Morey Plains to till the fields, and the devastation of Oakenburg and Oakland served as grim reminders of the dragons' might - a might built upon uncountable bones and the lamentations of millions of innocents.

Food grew ever more scarce, and to maintain a standing army, the Morey royalty had to increase taxes tenfold within just a few months.

The populace had initially tolerated the harsh policies, aware that the imperial allied forces and Ryton legions had marched out, expecting life to return to normal once the dragons were driven away.

But after news of the defeat spread, everyone knew it would take at least a decade before they could go home again. Thus, Morey's long-simmering grievances immediately erupted.

Along his journey, Akuniryas witnessed the near-constant efforts of the royal guard to suppress the bandit and outlaw groups born of desperation. He also spotted agents in cloaks flitting through crowds to assassinate those plotting to overthrow the monarchy.

"It is not the fault of the people nor the aristocracy - it is all because of the dragon!"

Gritting his teeth, he quickly regained his composure, recognizing his true enemy and vowing not to let sympathy or allegiance sway his resolve to eradicate this scourge.

Without a backwards glance, he departed from the outskirts of Brugen City and made his way to the Floating Isle upon the Dibuthra Shores.

Ironically, the "rent" paid to the Magic Council now accounted for one-tenth of Morey's fiscal revenue - a crucial income source. If the Floating Isle threatened to depart, the Morey authorities would likely fall to their knees pleading for it to remain.

The garrison once stationed to monitor this mage sanctum had since been recalled to bolster manpower reserves, leaving Morey unable to oversee the isle's activities.

Thus, Akuniryas easily approached the descending pillar of light beneath the Floating Isle, staring up at the translucent green veil enveloping it, uncertain how to proceed.

The last time, Marat had used flight magic to bring him aboard, so he was unfamiliar with operating this contraption.

"Greetings, what business brings you to the Floating Isle?" An ethereal, disembodied voice called down from above, startling Akuniryas.

"Ah yes! The Floating Isle has a central control governing all its facilities," he recalled Marat's previous explanation.

"I am Akuniryas, here to see Archmage Marat! I've just returned from the Oakenburg front and have critical intelligence to share regarding this conflict between humans and dragons!"

The voice fell silent within the green veil, likely as the attendant mage reported his arrival.

Soon, an invisible force began lifting Akuniryas, levitating him upwards. He watched the sandy beach shrink below as the dilapidated ramparts of Brugen City in the distance resembled a medieval relic, its faded grandeur a reminder of its diminished stature.

A minute later, he passed through the immense plant roots absorbing ambient magic into a grand atrium within a massive spell formation.

"Master Marat!" Akuniryas immediately spotted the bald archmage and rushed over.

Marat's face was grim as he stood with his hands clasped behind his back. Seeing Akuniryas, he sighed heavily. "I never imagined the war would be lost. Humans believed they stood atop the continent, only to be struck down by the dragons in a single blow. Alas, who knows what the future holds?"