Silver Tongue

The interface unfolded before Cassius. [You have broken another's psychological defenses with words. Achievement unlocked: Silver Tongue.] [Achievement: Silver Tongue] ["My tongue can be a thorned rose, or a sword dipped in poison—it all depends on your choice." —An anonymous devil of Hell.] [Passive Trait Gained: Smooth Talker] [Persuasion +6, Deception +4. Bonus Spell: Suggestion] [You are a rare smooth talker, one whose greatest reliance lies in speech. Your eloquence can drive anyone through fire and water for you, your sophistry can cloak any crime, and your words can twist black into white, plunging the entire world into chaos.] [Suggestion] [2nd-level Enchantment] [You magically influence a creature you can see within range, suggesting a course of activity to it (your suggestion must be worded to make the action sound reasonable).] "Not a bad passive trait. It'll prove quite useful in certain situations." Such was Cassius's evaluation. While it offered little direct help in combat, one could never have too many tricks up their sleeve—it would come in handy sooner or later. Not to mention, it came bundled with a rather rare second-level spell. The Eagle Guard's sudden raid had inflicted considerable losses on Cinder Nest while it was still in its fledgling stages. According to Langpu's tally, two wyverns, seven ogres, eighty-six goblins, and ninety-five kobolds had perished, not counting the wounded. Even the chimera had suffered grievous injuries, temporarily incapacitated. This put Cassius on high alert. Losing creatures like goblins and kobolds did not matter in the slightest. With a little effort, several hundred fresh ones would roll out by next year; in fact, he would probably need to find ways to actively cull their burgeoning population. However, losing wyverns—creatures of formidable combat prowess and long reproductive cycles—truly stung. Moreover, had he not returned in time, the casualties would have been far worse. That was by no means a good omen. Indeed, compared to the rapid pace of Cassius's own growth, the quality of Cinder Nest's retainers was already falling behind. The consequence of such a disparity was all too clear: In the future, the red dragon might step out to fight a battle, only to find his home nest wiped out by enemies before he even had time to rest and recover. With this thought in mind, Cassius turned his gaze toward a special ability on his interface: "Bloodline Boon." [Bloodline Boon] [You are a natural leader, capable of using your immense presence to influence creatures within your territory, and conducting rituals using your own blood to create bloodline retainers.] [Upon completion of the ritual, the oppression welling from the depths of their blood will compel them to submit to you entirely, and even their descendants will become your eternal retainers.] *Expending a bit of blood to produce a batch of loyal and reliable retainers seems like a fair trade,* Cassius mused. Reaching his decision, Cassius let loose a long, resonant roar, summoning the various clans to assemble in the wide open stretch of the valley. *Roar—* This marked the very first grand assembly of Cinder Nest. With the red dragon giving the summons in person, it was clear that an event of great importance was at hand. The chieftains of each clan treated it with the utmost gravity. Langpu admonished the ogres to maintain discipline; Duoluo strapped on his imposing leather armor; Jinya diligently polished his scales; even the wyverns hissed in low tones, engaged in who knew what sort of exchange. Instantly, all of Cinder Nest sprang to life. Leaving behind only the necessary sentries, the rest of the retainers poured forth en masse. Over a thousand monsters of diverse sorts packed the valley until not a drop of water could trickle through. They jostled, clamored, and bickered, and friction soon broke out among them—between the goblins and the kobolds, for instance. Both were numerous yet individually frail races, and neither held any love for the other. The goblins considered themselves early arrivals, the foundational veterans of Cinder Nest, while the kobolds believed they shared a closer kin bond with the master, sneering at the goblins as mere cannon fodder. "Out of the way, goblins!" "This is our spot!" "You came late, so get to the back!" A few slightly taller kobolds blocked the front, chattering fiercely. The goblins grew furious and tried to shove their way through, but the kobolds surged forward as one. "Out of the way! Stop blocking our path!" The goblins parted, and Duoluo, the hobgoblin commander, spoke from behind. A few burly bugbear guards flanking him stepped straight forward, sending the kobolds flying several meters back with swift kicks. Though common goblins held low status, the immense strength and ruthless authority of hobgoblins and bugbears were beyond dispute. They formed the core elite managing military affairs and construction within Cinder Nest; even Jinya, the kobold chieftain, held them in deep dread. Seeing this, the offending kobolds slunk off dejectedly, not daring to utter another word. Soon, the lizardfolk arrived with their tribe. There were just over fifty of them, considerably taller than the kobolds and goblins and roughly the size of humans. They looked like a cross between an upright lizard and a crocodile. Most carried primitive gear like wooden spears and carapace shields, and their physical strength was plainly evident. However, having only recently joined Cinder Nest without even a stable dwelling of their own, they dared not lightly stir up trouble with the other tribes. This was the "Black Tooth" lizardfolk tribe, which had joined while the red dragon was underground. They had originally lived in an abandoned cavern network, fleeing here in the wake of the behir's rampage. Since the red dragon had been away, Langpu, who had temporarily overseen the lair, had taken them in provisionally. As a result, they had yet to receive formal recognition from the red dragon. Their chieftain had not even been granted a proper audience with the dragon. He had merely witnessed the red dragon's majestic might during the battle, which had thoroughly cemented his resolve to submit. The lizardfolk chieftain was named Ak Longtooth, titled after his mouthful of dagger-like fangs. Unlike ordinary lizardfolk, his burly, well-muscled frame stood over two meters tall. Atop his head rose a tall, brightly colored fin that resembled a crown—a mark of strength among lizardfolk, as well as a tool to attract mates. In his hand he held a trident carved from crocodile bones, the symbol of the tribe's leader. Yet at this moment, the lizardfolk chieftain appeared anxious and uneasy, uncertain whether this mighty red dragon would accept him. He glanced instinctively toward the lizardfolk shaman beside him, Keda Blackscale. Keda was an elderly lizardfolk, hunched of frame, his eyes slightly clouded, with a singular pitch-black scale set upon his chest. "Keda, can we truly settle here?" The lizardfolk shaman did not answer. He merely offered a meaningful smile and pointed behind them. Several burly lizardfolk were hauling heavy wooden chests, surrounded tightly by protective guards. Through the cracks of the chests, faint glints of gold shone through. They were packed with all manner of goldware—some plundered from human merchant caravans, others unearthed from cavern depths—representing the accumulated savings of the Black Tooth tribe over many years. "You can always trust a red dragon's greed," the old shaman murmured, reciting an ancient adage.