The nine conservative dragons all involuntarily narrowed their pupils. The black dragon Luben clearly wanted to say something, but was cut off by Herazanthos' words and forced to ponder in silence.
Meanwhile, the leader of the Prulis faction had already drawn the conclusions he wanted from these subtle details.
"Calamity Demon," it said, turning its head down towards Raphael. "Although Arnathus and the others have cooperated with you before, that does not represent the decision of the entire Dragon Council."
Herazanthos extended his graceful neck and enunciated carefully, "The resolution has passed, but if the topic to be discussed is merely the solo act of certain parties, leaving me and my colleagues in the dark, then there may be some irresistible errors when it comes to delivering what was promised to you."
Having said that, the elegant yet formidable red dragon fell silent, calmly observing everything in the council chamber.
Raphael was completely baffled, but he did understand the implied threat in Herazanthos' words.
"Does he realize I've made private deals with the conservatives?"
As Raphael pondered this, he heard the grating, broken draconic voice of Hoholt:
"Of course, Crimson Lord. We are one body - how could there be any small faction plotting? Every dragon councilor has a chance to speak, none can deprive this ancient inherited right."
Raphael was utterly confused, unable to grasp Herazanthos' implication or comprehend how Hoholt had understood its meaning.
"Well, my uncle is right, I simply can't make sense of these old dragons' world." He had to give up trying to follow the twists and turns.
At this moment, Hoholt was suppressing intense anger in his heart!
"Herazanthos…I never thought a dragon not even a millennium old could push us to this point!"
He couldn't help but recall the circumstances when he first became a dragon councilor over a thousand years ago. Back then, the various races of the continent were shrouded in ignorance. Humans even believed cleansing one's body was a mortal sin. Orcs still defecated everywhere in their own lairs, never seeking treatment when afflicted by disease, but instead retreating alone into temples to pray, only to become food for the resident monsters.
The dragon race created the most advanced order, making the dragon domain the only land free of war and strife - or rather, hierarchy was suppressed to the extreme, making conflict utterly impossible.
The conservatives were at their peak, holding three-fifths of council votes. The descendants of the ancient dragons ably guarded their ancestors' inheritances. Invisible chains bound the outside dragons coveting these vast spoils, locking them tightly within dragonlands. Any who dared raise a claw were branded as criminal dragons to be maimed by potent dragon magic and exiled beyond the ice seas.
The Prulis faction? Just a bunch of impoverished lords constantly harassed by demi-humans and orcs, with no right to stand alongside the glorious ancient bloodlines.
But as time passed, more and more newly-hatched dragons were utterly dissatisfied with inheriting only meager, cramped primordial domains, while the conservative descendants lorded over fully developed small kingdoms.
That was when Herazanthos' father appeared, joining the Prulis faction by various means - coincidentally in the same batch as Hoholt.
The Prulis faction then began its offensive. First exhausting their last remnants of wealth to seize control of the Trade Dragon Gorge. Then introducing the concept of hatchling coins, abandoning the outdated barter system. By monopolizing trade, they amassed vast fortunes in gold, secretly trafficking with outside realms.
Thus the Prulis faction steadily gained immense resources from foreign powers to expand their strength. By the time the conservatives realized, they had become a gargantuan force.
Any dragon dealing privately with outsiders should have been branded a criminal, but the conservatives lacked the courage to punish them - for the consequence would be an internecine war among dragonkind.
From then on, Hoholt and the others went on the defensive, no longer interfering with the Prulis faction's activities, focusing all effort on protecting their own interests from being threatened. The "conservative" name was adopted then, previously they had called themselves the venerable draconic nobility.
Accepting new ideas and broadening their horizons, the bold and progressive Prulis dragons initiated many territorial reforms. Raphael's concept of "domestic ministers" was invented then, as were sustainable ecosystems and precise subdivision of duties among dragon families.
The Prulis faction then founded hatchling academies, establishing etiquette curricula to inculcate newly hatched dragons with values like "civilization", "ambition", and "curiosity" - cutting off the conservatives' foundations.
Dragons of Raphael's generation all yearned for a better life, no longer resigning themselves to solitary existences in ramshackle caves.
However, realizing these modern concepts required immense resources as backing. Apart from the conservatives' domains, the remaining resources within the dragon demesne could never satisfy the burgeoning numbers of dragons.
The machinations of the Prulis faction began to show their hand here. They dared not directly seize the conservatives' interests, but instead used the desire and pressure generated by all the outside dragons to force their opponents to concede and cooperate with their plans for external invasion. They held the other dragons hostage to this concept, making them rally under the Prulis banner if they wished to realize their ambitions - shaping the embryonic class stratification of dragonkind.
How could the conservative dragons, eternally holed up in their lairs, have ever witnessed such intricate scheming and long-term planning? By the time Hoholt became their leader, they were already on the wane.
Until Raphael appeared, driven by his own disproportionate desires and strength to begin cooperating with the Prulis faction, upsetting the balance. The conservatives sensed the old order crumbling, but had precious few ideological allies remaining.
Remember, whether Arnathus or Raphael, they were both descended from the first dragon councilors. Yet without exception they had thrown in their lot with the enemy - the youngest among them already 1,800 years old.
"But I never expected Calamity Demonto come to us, willing to heed our counsel in exchange for more material resources," thought Hoholt, recalling how a few days prior Luben had brought the retired Sulut and Raphael to their door.
It turned out Sulut was Raphael's uncle, hoping to get in with the conservatives.
Hoholt questioned why they had been approached. Sulut smiled and said, "Because a hunting hound hoping to survive a lion's jaws must find itself a lone wolf as companion!"
The Prulis faction were the lions - resource-rich, with extensive connections. Compared to them, Raphael's own forces were mere dogs.
One-on-one, a hunting hound would surely be devoured and crushed - a matter of sheer power disparity that no cunning could overcome.
But with a lone wolf at their side, the lion would have pause. For if it made a move against the hound, the wolf, wary of facing the lion alone, might spontaneously side with the hound. In that two-on-one scenario, the lion would ultimately not dare to force a confrontation. Meanwhile, the wolf and hound could preserve themselves, yet never dream of betraying the lion due to its overwhelming presence.
Hoholt understood the old flame's meaning. From a broader perspective, the conservatives were natural allies of Raphael's against the Ael faction - an unreliable bunch constantly breaking off from the other two factions with no fixed principles.
"But Herazanthos saw right through this ploy, and directly threatened our fatal weakness!"
When the Lord of the Red Lotus had earlier mentioned resource shortages, he meant that if the conservatives went too far in misleading Raphael to disregard them, the Prulis faction would withhold all provisions.
The Dragon Council's public resources were maintained by the periodic tribute paid by dragon councilors themselves. It was now nearing the deadline for the next payment cycle, with stockpiles already running low.
The Prulis faction could use excuses to delay, meaning the conservatives' own contributions would fall far short of sating Raphael's appetite unless Hoholt and the others were willing to pay out additional personal funds.
But was that remotely possible? It would amount to the conservatives solely supporting Raphael at their own expense - utterly absurd.
Moreover, Raphael's demands were sure to be immense. Failing to meet them would cause a rift between the hunting hound and lone wolf - Hoholt had no faith this red dragon could grasp the deeper logic and willingly sacrifice his own interests.
So he had no choice but to signal surrender, though the exchange between Herazanthos and himself sounded casual. Discerning dragon councilors knew the Prulis faction had strong-armed the conservatives once more.
"Let's start with the resource issue. Since this is war, weapons and provisions must be the first priority," said Hoholt, deliberately turning to Arnathus. "Draconic sage, your study of dragon magic is the deepest among us. Any insights on that front?"
"It seems the old thing has gone soft. Lord Herazanthos is truly incisive - just two lines to grasp the core issue and defuse a perilous situation."
Arnathus understood the conservatives had compromised again. He had always advocated using non-violent means to compel others to act according to one's will.
"Raphael, what is the current state of human magic? I recall some 600 years ago, using forbidden arts to take human form and infiltrate their world for reconnaissance. Some kingdoms or republics had apparently organized pure mage regiments which seemed quite threatening back then," it asked.
Raphael scoffed dismissively. "Those were mere toys. From what I know, such mage regiments are both impotent and exorbitantly expensive - utterly lacking ability for large-scale warfighting. Nowadays they rely on uranium ballistae, field mana cannons, and gryphon-supported combined air-ground operations to overwhelm all with sheer terrifying force. Even cavalry have become scouting units."
Back in the desert caves, Raphael had inquired of Alvis about the human realm's military capabilities. Whether an archmage like Kuma would turn the tide on battlefields simply by their presence, making enemies cower beforeattempting to unleash cataclysmic storms of magic to annihilate all opposition.
But the answer was an emphatic no. Kuma taking a stand at the academy might well make students faint in terror, but not on a real battlefield.
In pitched frontal engagements, armies formed long battle lines gradually advancing, with no magic capable of instantly obliterating even a hundred-man company as they stood widely dispersed with cover.
Secondly, such mages lacked means to be rapidly deployed to the front lines, cast spells, and accurately strike enemies. The human physique was universal - the energies unleashed by uranium ballistae would slay them just as readily.
Raphael had then asked about using magical force fields for defense.
Alvis replied that was possible, but where would the mana come from to bombard the enemy? The finite reservoirs within a human's body, once depleted sustaining defenses, would leave offensive spells utterly weakened - tactically pointless.
Moreover, war was a strategic game. Such petty tactical footnotes about particular weapons or elite units amounted to grasping at straws while missing the forest for the trees. Logistics, morale, public support, terrain mapping - any of those trumped so-called mage regiments.
Raphael had taken these theories of war to heart, incessantly reviewing them. Now was the time to apply them.
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"First: I require a stable route! One that can make a round-trip between here and my domain within a week! The periodic supply shipments you promised must flow uninterrupted along this route to my lands! There can be no mishaps or disruptions - it must be absolutely reliable!"
His opening demand took the other dragon councilors by surprise - he was concerned with transportation?
"This sounds quite manageable," smiled Arnathus. "Where to where, specifically?"
"From the Eastern Trade Dragon Gorge to the outskirts of my domain. I know the Gorge is your greatest treasure trove! Even suspect foreign powers have had a presence there before. It's where resources are most easily marshaled. A straight line from there to my lands is likely around 800 kilometers."
Arnathus nodded. "Very straightforward. Shall we move on to discussing magical weaponry then?"
"No! Let's settle the supply route issue first before the next item," Raphael shook his head firmly.
Herazanthos' amber eyes gleamed ever brighter, a hint of admiration showing.
Under Alvis' tutelage, Raphael had learned that war was like erecting a great edifice - the crucial foundation must be solidly laid before proceeding to upper levels.
Transportation was one of those key foundations, the lifeline of any military force. Wounded frontline soldiers could be swiftly evacuated for life-saving treatment. Reserve troops could rapidly deploy to the vanguard for engagements. Rations, munitions, and supplies reached the forces needing them without delay.
Those precious advantages in timing and tempo, compounded, could decisively sway a war's outcome.
Raphael did not want his forces bogged down in a grueling campaign, only to have supposedly forthcoming weapons, food and reinforcements get self-obstructed en route due to logistical failings.
"Let's start with the method - air transport would be fastest, able to deliver goods within half a day. But do you have sufficient aerial units?" Raphael swept his gaze over the assembled dragons.
Silence fell, until some trade gorge overseers spoke up.
"Flight itself isn't an issue - everyone here including you, Calamity Demon, can fly. But there are matters of principle involved. For instance, you could forsake everything and leave the Mu Continent - hypothetically anyone could do that. But no one does, because of principles… dragons categorically cannot stoop to being mere carriers and laborers."
Another added, "Dragon kin cannot be loaned out either, just as… well, you couldn't lend out your own mates for a few centuries of breeding, could you?"
Before this clumsy remark could provoke Raphael's ire, Rochester was already raging from afar. "Hey! Dead crawler! What did you just say?!"
"Sorry! Sorry!" The offender laughed awkwardly before turning solemn. "But that's the gist - we command no flying beasts of burden."
"So overland is the only option? What about water routes?"
The dragon councilors immediately turned to the liaison spheres in their clutches, the sheepskin maps unfurled over the high seats clearly displaying key regional landmarks.
"You mean connecting the Eastern Trade Dragon Valley first to the Central River, and then shipping goods upstream to your territory?"
The dragon race referred to the Moton River as the Central River.
"Correct," Raphael nodded. "The Eastern Trade Dragon Valley is very close to the river, so water transportation will definitely be faster than land transportation."
Arnathus shook his head. "But we lack the draft animals for water transportation. Excellent magical beast species like the Clin camel are extremely rare, and almost all those that can move in water are dragon kin, which cannot be borrowed from outside."
The dragon kin were the precious treasures of dragons. Especially those lineages passed down for thousands or even tens of thousands of years, dragons did not need to worry about them additionally, such as Raphael's own dragon kin kin - he only needed to give orders and they would immediately carry them out while ensuring quality.
"I didn't say you had to transport them. I will dispatch ships to go there myself," Raphael replied. A large number of ships were docked at the port of Oakenburg, and those experienced shipwrights and sailors were all subjects of the Erl Kingdom, making it easy to mobilize them.
The dragon councilors hurriedly whispered to each other, carefully examining the map on the communication orbs in their claws, analyzing what harm this could bring to the Dragon Domain.
"Acceptable," Hoholt finally nodded in agreement. "But you cannot let outsiders set foot on dragon lands - that would be desecrating the achievements of the ancient dragons."
It added, "We can dispatch laborers to help you load the ships, but be warned not to let humans walk on dragon soil, or it will seriously damage the goodwill between us."
The Dragon Domain was seized by force from the Orc Empire by the ancient dragons, who then had their descendants guard this land while not leaving it carelessly themselves.
The conservative faction saw themselves as inheritors of an unparalleled legacy, so of course they had to uphold these principles.
They could no longer control the coming and going of dragons, but they could still prevent outsiders from entering and leaving.
"You old fools! The Dragon Domain has already been infiltrated like a sieve!" Raphael inwardly scorned them, recalling the Deluca expedition team that had entered as easily as walking into an uninhabited area before. They clearly knew the terrain here like the back of their hand - there was no telling how many humans had previously conducted field surveys. If not for the behemoth rioted, they might have already succeeded in stealing dragon eggs and fleeing.
But now was the time to talk money, he could not displease the financiers. So Raphael smiled and nodded, "No problem, Lord Silver Twilight. I guarantee those scale-less ones will obediently stay on the deck, at most my dragon kin kin will disembark to inspect the goods."
With this point settled without objection, they then negotiated the specifics of the delivery time, goods content, and so on. Raphael engaged in fierce verbal battles over these two points, haggling over every single coin and grain of food like the miserly plantation owners of Karuk or the greedy foreign traders of that country.
"Whew! Alright! You win!"
Night had fallen without anyone realizing, Arnathus exhaled a long breath, too exhausted to even lift his wings. The other dragon councilors were also panting heavily, with several two-thousand-year-old elderly dragons even lying down to relieve the strain on their hearts.
But the youthful Raphael on the main seat still looked lively and energetic - such a war of words could not tire him in the least.
"Calamity Demon, you are truly greedy. Don't tell me you've caught dragon sickness?" The dragon councilors remarked with surprise, for the final agreed-upon resource amount was nearly double what they had expected to pay.
Raphael acted like a cold, uncompromising commander, completely disregarding moral rules. He kept charging and attacking the dragon councilors' thoughts in the draconic, with no artistry whatsoever - just an arrogant, commanding tone.
"Next should be discussing the military aid, I suppose?" Raphael said coldly, perking up to add, his steel tail lashing out to drive away Emersen who tried to approach.
"No, let's continue tomorrow. We're all a bit tired," Hoholt the silver dragon requested a pause.
"But I'm in a hurry!" Raphael rejected the suggestion mercilessly. "You are dragons! Pure-blooded dragons capable of going months without rest or sleep. That's one of the innumerable overwhelming advantages your race has over outsiders. Sleep? Have you grown so decrepit?"
He then continued in a tone that brooked no refusal, "Since you have recognized me as your proxy, you must do as I say regarding these matters! Discuss them at the fastest possible pace, then you can go rest!"
Raphael's unexpectedly forceful and intimidating manner stunned all the dragon councilors. This dictator-like absolute tone dealt another heavy blow to their already weary minds and bodies, leaving them glaring at the red dragon below, unable to say a word.
"No issue." An voice of assent came, causing the dragon councilors to look around in surprise for its source.
"Lord Herazanthos?" The Prulis faction's dragons found it was the leader of their own faction giving approval, not knowing why.
Herazanthos said, "Calamity Demon, I understand your urgency, for your territory could be counterattacked by humans at any moment - perhaps the war has even started there already. You are correct, you are our proxy, so I ask my colleagues to indulge you a bit. After all, this sort of thing only happens once every few hundred years, a small hardship is bearable."
He was now the de facto ruler of the Dragon Council, and with the Prulis faction not objecting further, even Hoholt and the opportunistic Erl faction could not vehemently disagree when he spoke.
Raphael looked at Herazanthos, who was speaking up for him, without any pleasure in his heart. For he was reminded of what his father Robert had said about the so-called "Dragon King"
…
Pillar Mountain.
Although the two rulers Raphael and Nana were not present, the complex yet efficient management system was still functioning. Without need for force or intimidation, everyone quietly contributed like gears in a machine, bringing their value to this rising power like the dawn sun.
Alvis was sleeping, but the gradually increasing noisy sounds outside kept stimulating his sensitive nerves.
He suddenly opened his eyes, beads of sweat covering his forehead, muscles tense all over his body.
It took Alvis a moment to realize this was not his childhood home where he had to wake up at 5am daily to rush to the print shop and sell newspapers. Nor was it the military academy with its constant emergency assemblies. Or the front lines of a raging battlefield where life hung by a thread. It wasn't even the crisis-ridden Dragon domain.
This was Pillar Mountain, surrounded by the dragon kin who once served under him. The ruling Milmos was also his "old friend", so there were no life-threatening dangers.
Alvis sat quietly for a few minutes to calm himself, his mind automatically replaying the experiences of his short 36-year life, the cruel passage of time warning him that one misstep could mean utter ruination.
He looked around at the relatively spacious compartment made of sturdy wooden boards, with 27 square meters of space enough for his family of four. The large, solid bed was specially commissioned from the Kobold craftsmen and the city's alchemists, a sign of Alvis' importance to Milmos.
Helen, Misha and Hess were all still sweetly dreaming. After months of arduous travel compounded by outside threats, they could finally rest in this enclosed, safe place, sleeping over ten hours for several days straight.
Alvis got up quietly, gently slipping his arm out of Helen's grasp and removing the leg-hugging Misha to tuck her into Helen's embrace. As for Hess, he slept separately behind Helen's back, not touching the other three.
Alvis pushed open the door, then swiftly closed it to prevent the bright daylight stones' cold radiance from disturbing his family's sleep.
"Would you like anything to eat?" The rat dragon guard posted by Milmos immediately asked upon seeing him exit.
"Although many of the cooks were killed in the blast, you are the master's appointed First Minister of Domestic Affairs, so they dare not ignore you."
Alvis shook his head. "No need, but if my family wakes up, please get them some food, the same as I used to have is fine. Also, get some fresh milk, fish, and egg custard, with an extra spoonful of deep-sea fish oil added."
"As you command!"The rat dragon noted all his requests as a subordinate would from a superior.
After speaking, Alvis headed out on his own.
This was still the long hallway, but after days of constant repairs and reinforcement, it now resembled the shape of a bustling street. Blood wyvern hurriedly brought in large amounts of information from outside, then left clutching many leather parchments. Dwarven laborers, Kobolds, and Clin camels continuously transported food from the granaries to be taken down the now barely passable mountain roads, easing the burden on the blood wyvern.
"Truly orderly."
Alvis had to admit this group of dragon kin had top-notch organization and capability. As the governing administrator, Milmos' approach and methods were also impeccable - at least there were no flaws in developing the Pillar Mountain territory.
"How did I not notice Milmos had this talent before? Is Raphael's dragon kin so miraculous as to reshape an entirely new persona?"
Pondering this question, Alvis entered a large office space piled high with all sorts of files and documents. Six rat dragon guards stood motionless in the corners while two young human women, one hand to their foreheads, wrote with the other.
Creeeeak.
The sound of Alvis stepping on the low-quality floorboards startled them.
"Ah! Mr. Deluca, you're here!" Evelina looked up and greeted him with a smile. "Good morning! Have you come to review your old work logs? I organized quite a few last night."
"No, thank you." Alvis refused expressionlessly, then addressed the figure hunched over a dozen scrolls at the far end. "Milmos, got a moment?"
The long, thin-scaled head slowly raised up. Those pupil-less crimson blood-eyes looked at the preoccupied Alvis for a moment before silently nodding and leaving its position, picking up an iron staff to support its hunched body as it emerged.
"Hey! Mama Evelina!" Garry had been playing at writing in draconic, and seeing one person and one dragon kin exit, she immediately winked and made faces at Evelina across from her.
"What now?" The latter didn't even look up, her hand continuously writing. Recently Milmos had been driven for some reason to demand speeding up and increasing construction efforts, the massive amount of transcription and summary work kept her working over fourteen hours a day.
"What's the deal with this Mr. Deluca? Why does Milmos value him so much?" Garry asked curiously. "The dragon expressly commanded no one else besides Aunt Amelia is allowed to enter, so how can he? Isn't Milmos afraid the dragon will return and devour it?"
"Perhaps Raphael already knew about it? They do have those crystal spheres for communication - the dragon race has always monopolized the lead in magic communication technology," Evelina replied, knowing that some of Raphael's dragon kin kin were equipped with long-range means of contact, not valued as they were mass-produced items.
In human society, only exceptionally wealthy families could obtain them through special channels, usually reserved for national personnel. Private ownership was quite rare, as the production techniques could not be decrypted - even archmasters on the Magic Isle would exhaust years attempting to create a single pair.
"Really? But I feel there's more to this than meets the eye," Garry revealed a certain sinister, wicked smile. "Maybe this Deluca is the very culprit who showed the big dragon the way, otherwise why would a dragon think to directly confront the Morey Kingdom? And how conveniently he discovered these mountains full of golden treasure."
"Don't talk nonsense!" Evelina hurriedly waved to signal Garry not to go too far. "The waters here run deep! We're lucky to be alive and unharmed together now, don't go stirring up more trouble."
Garry pouted but could only continue the tedious, heart-tormenting transcription work with a dejected expression.
...
"What is it? There are no outsiders who can overhear us here, speak freely," Milmos said as he led Alvis for a stroll into the treasury, the brilliant golden radiance of the Erl vaults underfoot.
After a few days, Alvis had a general understanding of all Raphael's experiences since he'd left, including the conflicts with the twelve noble families and the dwarves.
"No matter when I look, this gold is so captivating, constantly tugging at the deepest desires in one's heart. No wonder Raphael dared to launch such an audacious sneak attack on Morey, massacring all sides until tens of thousands of families were ruined, enslaving millions of civilians," he murmured with downcast eyes, not even blinking.
"Hey! Do you have a death wish? This is the master's most prized possession! It's for these that he risked life and limb! If anyone dares covet this gold, besides the madam, they'll die! Even the master's own parents!" Milmos snapped upon seeing Alvis drifting off.
"Yes, I know." Alvis tore his gaze away and looked at it calmly, his eyes devoid of greedy madness, only lucid rationality.
"Precisely because Raphael says he would never relinquish this gold, this yellow sin capable of overturning humanity, I have called you out separately to discuss the terrible crisis you now face in secret."
Milmos did not grow angry or afraid at these startling words. The remnants of its memory held great respect and admiration for this former comrade - his abilities were worthy of trust.
"Let's hear it," Milmos said.
"First, your approach is mistaken. On the journey riding the blood wyvern up the mountain, I noticed both in the city and in the foothills, they are building fortresses and constructing more powerful but fixed bowguns."
He strode fearlessly up to this terrifying monster, staring straight into its alien, demonic crimson eyes.
"You, or rather those former Morey nobles and dwarves, have been trying to turn yourselves into an armored turtle, hunkering inside a hard shell to endure outside attacks. Your task is constantly reinforcing that shell's defenses, praying that your rate of repairing it exceeds the outside rate of damage, correct?"