"In a cave on the outskirts of Stravburg, right at these exact coordinates—send men to retrieve the silver dragon's hidden hoard. Inside, there are 30,472 gold coins and twelve kilograms of ruby and sapphire jewelry. The count must not be off by a single piece; I will verify it myself."
"The Ring of the Crown of Stars is inside the silver coffin at Trifa Church."
"The silver dragonscale armor is beneath a stone tile in the corner of Fateri Hall."
"*Duplicitous Flowery Words* is on the bookshelf at the Witch's Veil Tavern."
"A vast quantity of spell scrolls, 372 in total, is inside the waterfall in the southern part of Agur Forest, where a hidden wizard's tower stands."
"Here, Castle Caterina. Inside is an observation magic circle through which the old silver dragons of the Melvold clan spy on conditions in the Northlands. Go and destroy it."
"Truly wealthy. As expected of the silver dragon clan."
Cassius reclined across the iron throne, rattling off the intelligence he had wheedled out of the silver dragon.
The ogre archmage Trump stood before him, carefully adjusting his gold-rimmed glasses. With a quill condensed from mana, he scribbled furiously across illusory magical parchment, recording every piece of precious intelligence line by line.
The poor silver dragon believed she had found a steadfast romance straight out of a novel, baring her heart and soul to someone masquerading as a gold dragon, when in truth she had received only the starkest, bare-faced fraud.
With Olivia's own imagination filling in the blanks, this fabricated persona of his had grown increasingly complete, turning into her crutch in despair—her final lifeline.
Cassius knew full well that when the truth came to light and this meticulously crafted dream shattered, she would completely collapse.
And that would be the prime opportunity to utterly breach her psychological defenses and "conquer" this naive young silver dragon.
"Tsk, tsk. A bit pitiful, really."
Thinking of this, Cassius even felt a faint twinge of guilt.
After all, he rather shamelessly considered himself a "good person with moral boundaries," or at the very least a ruthless hero of ambition rather than a typically cruel, wicked dragon—though the red dragon's enemies obviously did not share that view, a misconception that sorely needed correcting.
Yet even with such thoughts flitting through his mind, Cassius never stopped speaking. What one thought was one thing, but tangible benefits were another entirely.
Pondering for a moment, he continued:
"An Astral Shard, in the wine cellar of the Ranger Tavern in Melk City. That seems to be a Harpers' safehouse, though, so tell our people to be careful."
"The Amulet of the Planes is also in that wizard's tower I mentioned earlier."
"A bardic Anstruth Harp, in the Werner Instrument Shop in Stravburg. Show them this pass-phrase."
"A Staff of Power, in a chest on the thirteenth floor of the Kariana Tower."
"..."
By the time he finished, beads of sweat the size of beans were rolling down Trump's forehead; the details of various rare treasures had filled the entire sheet of parchment.
It was clear that Olivia had truly bared her heart, surrendering all the treasures a dragon held dearest in a single breath.
Trump pulled out a gold-embroidered handkerchief and dabbed the sweat from his temples. With his intellect, he had likely guessed what had happened, yet he deliberately played dumb.
"Master, you have only just awakened, yet you have uncovered so many rare treasures. Your subordinate is in absolute awe."
"During the three years of my slumber, how have the kingdom's affairs been handled?"
Trump instantly snapped to attention. Pulling a long-prepared mana crystal from his bag of holding, he adeptly projected a wealth of information from within it.
This reporting format—dubbed "PPT"—was simple and efficient. Thanks to Trump's deliberate promotion, it had spread widely across the Kingdom of Cinders, becoming a hallmark among the realm's spellcasters.
"Master, over these three years, the kingdom conducted a thorough census. Taking advantage of suppressing the rebellions, we uncovered all the hidden population concealed by the noble landowners. The kingdom now has a total of 470,000 subjects, including 80,000 dragon-blooded thralls and 390,000 humanoids.
"During these three years, following your instructions, we utilized serfs as cheap labor to vigorously develop magical industries. Currently, there are seventeen food processing plants, six armories, and one daily goods manufacturing plant across the realm, capable of accommodating nearly forty thousand workers and supplying provisions and armaments for the entire kingdom.
"In addition, regarding commerce and trade, we dispatched..."
"The kingdom's laws..."
"As for the rebellions stirred up by the remnants of the Northland nobility..."
Trump droned on without pause until Cassius yawned, prompting him to stop right on cue and skip the magical projection to the final slide: *These Are Your Monumental Achievements!*
In truth, not only from Trump's report, but also from his conversation with Olivia and what he had seen with his own eyes, Cassius could tell the kingdom was flourishing in line with his expectations. He only provided the general direction; the myriad details were left to thralls like Trump and Mezrolash to execute.
Even so, the report mentioned many latent problems within the kingdom, the most prominent being racial friction. Managing to get races that once were bitter enemies—or even prey and predator—to coexist in tenuous harmony had already taken everything Trump had.
Cassius voiced his praise.
"Very good. The kingdom is forging ahead along the path of the grand blueprint, its foundation taking shape. A share of that credit belongs to you."
Trump dropped to one knee, trembling with excitement.
Cassius continued:
"The military merit nobility system and investiture ceremony I spoke of before my slumber—are they prepared?"
Trump hastily presented a scroll and answered, "Long prepared, Sire. They have designed the specific steps for the ceremony. Please examine it. Every citizen of the kingdom will remember this glorious moment."
Similar to the Northland system, the peerage of the Kingdom of Cinders was divided into ranks such as duke, marquis, and earl, each containing several grades. Unlike the Northlands, however, titles in the kingdom carried no landed fiefs and could only be earned through merit.
Yet these were by no means mere empty titles or honorary distinctions. In Cassius's plan, each rank came with commensurate benefits, most crucially dictating the holder's dragon bloodline tier.
Those who performed meritorious deeds could receive more potent dragon bloodlines, progressing tier by tier as their titles advanced. Those standing at the pinnacle of the pyramid—such as dukes and marquises—could even receive a personal boon from the red dragon, becoming descendants of his primeval progenitor bloodline.
This would make the massive war machine of the Kingdom of Cinders all the more terrifying. Every cog in this system, whether human or monster, would strive with all their might to seize greater power and a longer lifespan.
The chariot of the Kingdom of Cinders would thus become all the sturdier, with every subject turned into a component within it, making Cassius's plan to crush the Northland realms ever more certain.
Chapter 249