"No problem." Raphael agreed without a second thought.

"Wait!" Baron Moran suddenly had something to say, "But all of this will cost money and resources! We should be spending on expanding markets and investing right now, increasing the people's wealth so we can be more competitive on the Mu continent. The idea of occupying a masterless land after hundreds of years is ridiculous!"

Before Alvis could respond, the Countess Amelia scoffed, "Turio, have you gone senile? Still thinking of integrating into the imperial system? We've already clashed with them, how could they possibly accept us!"

Moran gave her a cold look. "Widow Iris, your wedding to Baron Komo is coming up soon, right? Don't bother inviting me, I don't want to see that depraved, unnatural marriage. And stop personifying the nation - except for the military bunch gnashing their teeth, I believe the great merchants are quite interested in the Erl market. Foreign investment can allow us to develop rapidly; solely taking the militaristic path is a dead end."

When Baron Komo heard this, he flew into a rage. "You old dog!"

He charged forward, intending to punch the senile old man, but was quickly restrained midway by the alarmed former nobles. The scene devolved into chaos, with shouting and scuffles breaking out.

Boom!

A sudden earthquake knocked everyone off their feet. Rubbing their sore buttocks as they stood back up, they looked up to see the impatient face of Crimson Dragon.

"Look at your pathetic, unsightly bickering," Raphael snarled furiously, making them cower in fear.

"Go get bowguns from the armory and shoot at each other! You dare put on such an act before me? Not a single coin from me! Stop this performance!" Raphael thought they were just boasting and creating conflict to get him to spend money.

"That's not what I meant, we truly can't just barge recklessly into war," Moran pleaded earnestly. "The previous battle was a war of founding, unavoidable. But inciting more war now is greed. Whether in terms of our size or potential, we lack the strength to invade. The imperial legions number in the millions - an absolutely terrifying force!"

Alvis spoke up then, "But that's just on paper, including students, reserves, logistics workers and medical personnel. Precisely because we are so small, surrounded by an overtly hostile environment, we must raise the stakes and kill our way out, or we'll just be crushed under the pressure. If we continue on this path, we won't even make a ripple before awaiting death!"

"But have you considered the consequences of failure? We would lose everything completely! you, an outsider who has been indulged and promoted, wouldn't care about that!" Moran could no longer contain himself, voicing the feelings of the surrounding nobles.

Their fortunes were all here - manors, exquisite villas, hunting grounds, wealth, treasures, connections, luxuries, cheap and reliable servants, power and status. These nobles could not bear to part with these things; losing them may drive them to suicide.

Alvis was essentially staking their fortunes on the future of all Erl people and dwarves. How could they possibly agree?

"Without my funding allocation, you can forget about all this!" Moran was furious, his mustache bristling as he exerted his authority.

"But the supreme Crimson Dragon is the true ruler of Erl, he alone decides where every budget goes! You can only make suggestions!" Alvis rebuked him, turning to look at the spectating Raphael.

Moran was struck dumb, for indeed Crimson Dragon held the ultimate power; none could defy him on these matters.

"This..." Raphael fell into contemplation, forced to consider the issue from a national perspective as Erl's ruler.

"Moran does make some sense - the cost of war is indeed dreadful. My domain suffered devastation, vassals reduced, depleted food and weapon stockpiles. The losses were immense."

"But this place is just too small, I don't feel safe..."

Ultimately, Raphael was still a dragon driven by intense desires. Expansion aligned with his psychology, the thrills of killing and plundering stirring his greedy, violent core.

"Let's try it for a year. Alvis, be frugal. Moran, allocate some resources." Crimson Dragon made his final decision, which Moran could not defy.

After some domestic affairs which Raphael lazily decided on while yawning, he was nearly done.

"Naisa, do you have anything to say?" Crimson Dragon looked mockingly at the dwarf king, who had not uttered a word.

"No...esteemed lord, your will is my direction," Naisa responded obsequiously, not an extra thought in his head.

The previous soft imprisonment and sacrifice as a decoy had thoroughly cowed him. With barely a thousand dwarves in Erl, he had no voice.

"Play the part well and don't cause trouble. If your dwarf race proliferates in the future, you might get some open positions," Raphael casually dangled a prospect before him.

"Thank you for your grace," Naisa bowed his head humbly to express gratitude.

Seeing the human elite about to leave after the meeting's conclusion, Raphael suddenly spoke up, "Wait, everyone! I just got back today and haven't hosted anyone yet. Don't go home, come to Pillar Mountain - I'll feast you all."

"You wish to host us? Now?" The others could scarcely believe it - What's gotten into this dragon to suddenly become so generous？

Countess Amelia smoothed her dress and raised her hand politely, "Crimson Dragon, my lord, may I return to change into a gown first? It would be too discourteous to attend your banquet in this windbreaker."

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

"Mm."

Raphael exhaled a burst of flames from his nostrils in agreement. Iris Amelia then prepared to return home with the assistance of Komo.

"Wait! Komo, you don't need to go back," Crimson Dragon called out to the Earl's fiance. "I promised to grant her a wish in return for rescuing my wife. You're excused."

"Huh? That counts as my wish?" Amelia was dumbfounded - she had been carefully saving that privilege for a crisis.

"Uh...sorry, I suddenly don't want to go back anymore. Let's just leave like this," she quickly backtracked with an awkward laugh.

"Very well then."

Having cleverly prevented them from returning to their manors, Raphael took flight, calling out, "Blood wyverns, guard the guests well. I'll go on ahead."

"Shena, I've done you a good job. Hope you get past this hurdle and produce the experiment results soon - don't let me down!" he thought to himself.

...

Within the manor grounds, Evan did not know why he was suddenly expelled from the high council meeting. And his father, dressed in an alchemist's robe - what was he up to?

As he entered the foyer of an exquisite mansion situated by the Modon River, the conservatively dressed female butler respectfully removed his outer garments. During the process, however, she pressed closely against Evan's body, her supple thighs rubbing insistently against his lower regions.

This was a private place he had recently established using family resources. Even if his wife found out, she could do nothing about it, for the head of the Vattier family wielded supreme authority, controlling ninety percent of the family's assets. Shena had gradually been transferring this power to him.

Evan momentarily forgot his troubles outside as he enjoyed the suggestive teasing, a sickly smile on his face as he slapped the female butler's plump rear.

"A woman's pelvis is indeed wide and ample."

Feeling the slick sensation through the black silk, Evan could not praise it enough.

This had become his indulgence as he steadily grasped the reins of the Vattier family and consolidated power in Erl - or perhaps it was the manifestation of his long-suppressed inner nature.

She knelt down as Evan leaned back, his thoughts wandering amid the heightening sensations.

"What is Father up to...that female alchemist last night was quite different...Crimson Dragon...I've already been so brazen, at the entrance, the study, the bathhouse, perhaps even riding bareback...No! I must pull myself together! The world is changing...blindfolded and nude in the greenhouse, how about that? I heard an ancient king did just that...No! He ended up roasted alive in a bronze bull! I don't want that fate!"

It was obvious his constantly flickering, highly sensitive nerves made independent thought impossible. He kept imagining those new maids, prim and proper on the outside but stark naked beneath, his rational mind scattering the moment it tried to coalesce under the onslaught of neural peaks.

After a few minutes, Evan walked dazedly into the inner chambers, nearly slipping on the polished smooth floor before the female butler steadied him onto a sofa. Underfoot was a zebra skin rug he had recently acquired at immense cost. On the table sat a fifteen-year-aged wine, its bloody hue glinting dangerously under the warm lamps.

"For dinner, would you prefer smoked duck breast with Karuk aged vinegar and honey, or Morey seafood in puffed cream sauce?"

The female butler licked her lips, retrieving a silver pencil and a small, exquisite notebook to record her master's order.

Evan said nothing, staring blankly ahead at the burning fireplace. Not far away, a young hired female pianist played soothing melodies. Of course, she too was a woman.

"I..."

Just as Evan started to speak, a commotion came from the front door being flung open, tinkling chimes ringing incessantly.

He and the female butler turned to look, only to be startled by the arrivals!

Ten fully armed rat dragons marched in lockstep, clad in metal armor, bowguns gripped menacingly in their claws.

"What are you doing!"

Evan cried out angrily after recovering from the shock, shielding the female butler in front of himself.

But the rat dragons paid him no heed. Leaving one of their own to guard the two, the rest fanned out to search and apprehend, refusing all communication.

"Damn it! What does Crimson Dragon want? And where are those warriors? I specifically had sixty percent of the guards deployed here! How could there be no warning at all!"

Evan gripped the female butler's arms tightly, shielding her between himself and the rat dragon warriors.

Faced with the fearsome dragon kin , the butler could not speak, tears welling up as she dared not struggle free, eyes screwed shut in terror.

Bang!

A figure was dragged over. Evan turned to see it was the female pianist, the rat dragons showing no mercy as they seized her roughly by the hair like livestock for the slaughter.

Cries and crashing sounds came from upstairs - likely the "possessions" kept in this mansion being captured.

"What is going on? What have I done wrong?" Evan was utterly unmoored by this sudden upheaval. He now realized that once Crimson Dragon resorted to force without regard for consequences, his status, power, wealth and connections were worthless.

"What about those elite guards we hired at great expense? How could there be no response at all?"

Evan desperately missed the private armed forces he had once dismissed as too costly - they alone could provide a semblance of safety, perhaps.

"Were they all wiped out? Who could eliminate them without a sound?" He raged inwardly, crouching lower to bury his head against the female butler's waist.

More maids were being cleared out and gathered around him, along with cooks, gardeners and maintenance staff - all captured by the rat dragons. Several blood wyverns descended slowly, their crimson vertical pupils flashing ominous red light - the serpent's gaze spell leaving no target able to hide.

The dragon kin completed their work, forming a circle to surround all the humans in the riverside mansion, bowguns aimed unwaveringly.

"What do you want!" Evan shouted, unable to contain himself yet still not daring to stand, crouched amid the servants in a pitiful attempt at safety.

"Bring him out," the only rat dragon not aiming a bowgun at them commanded.

Immediately two fierce dragon kin rushed forward, forcibly dragging Evan away from the group.

"No! I am loyal to Crimson Dragon! Not one iota of disloyalty! No, please! I beg you!"

Evan knew dire peril loomed, weeping and wailing as tears and mucus streaked down to stain his fine shirt.

His voice grew louder, clinging to the rat dragons' metal armor and gouging a long bloody trail with his nails. A foul stench seeped from his trouser crotch.

"No! Let him go! Don't harm him!" The rat dragon squad leader quickly ordered, and the two warriors gently set Evan down on the sofa.

He had understood their draconic, finally exhaling in relief - it seemed his life would be spared, at least.

But then Evan had a new puzzlement: if Crimson Dragon did not intend to kill him, and this was not a major offensive action, then why expel him back home only to send dragon kin to raid and harass? A threat?

"Wait! After Father appeared, these strange events began...Father!"

Evan suddenly realized the strangeness of his beloved father Doniel Vattier's behavior.

From the start, his insistence on allying with the completely unfamiliar dragons was baffling enough. Then he went missing during the proverbial slicing of the cake, as if his previous foresight had been mere droppings.

He abdicated the family leadership to Evan prematurely on account of ill health, when old Moran had intended to fight on!

The ranks of rat dragons before him parted, and Evan looked up to see his father approaching, garbed in a blue alchemist's robe. His expression was a tortured mix of anguish and rapturous revelation, complex and terrible, as if angel and demon coexisted.

"What do you intend to do?" Evan asked, realizing these dragon kin were dispatched by his own father, not Crimson Dragon.

"My good son..." Shena panted, the rat dragon squad leader helping him sit across from Evan.

"Or should I say...my thirty-third generation descendant. You are privileged to inherit the soul of a genius transcending time and space!"