The bounty on the red dragon had already climbed to ten thousand gold coins. To say nothing of the Northern realms, even in the flourishing Farland Empire of the south or the prosperous Port Victoria by Moon Bay, that was a staggering fortune—and even more so to these impoverished adventurers.
Such a sum was enough for a fledgling wizard to erect a wizard tower of his own, or for a warrior to purchase a set of magical gear worthy of being passed down for generations.
Perhaps due to deliberate propaganda from House Lackman, Cinder Nest was also painted as a treacherous yet fabulously wealthy realm.
Rumors claimed that within Dragon Valley lay the hoard of a greedy red dragon, where endless gold coins cascaded down the gorge. Though no sensible soul would swallow such bardic exaggerations, they nonetheless gave adventurers the illusion that Cinder Nest was a symbol of boundless wealth.
This drove countless adventurers to flock there like moths to a flame. Setting out from cities across the North with soaring ambitions, they traveled in bands toward Storm Heights—though most never returned.
Naturally, not all of these adventurers were overconfident fools; there were still those who came thoroughly prepared. Take, for instance, this twenty-man adventuring party currently lurking behind a boulder.
Only, to the ordinary eye, they were now completely invisible.
"Has everyone finished their Invisibility Potions?"
"Yeah."
"Get the scent-masking potions ready as well. Dragons can taste the air with their forked tongues, and their sense of smell is sharper than you can imagine. Don't let your guard down for a second."
The speaker was a wizard in his twenties wearing purple robes and holding a hollow wooden staff, his expression tense.
His name was Bennett, a petty noble from Port Victoria. He had hired an elite mercenary band from all over, spending months preparing before finally arriving here.
According to intelligence provided by Northwind Keep, the dragon had been slumbering for a long time.
"Bennett, you're wound up way too tight. It's just a juvenile dragon, maybe even smaller. So what if it's a red dragon?"
"We already questioned those survivors."
"And your divination spells confirmed the intelligence was accurate."
"Even if those cowards were shaking in their boots—hahahaha! Look at them, terrified out of their wits by a dragon that isn't even grown!"
The speaker was a scarred warrior with bulging cords of muscle, chuckling heartily.
His name was Ivan, a veteran warrior from the Farland Empire. Having once taken down an adult green dragon alongside a thirty-man party, he never tired of boasting about dragonslaying.
Beside them, a rogue cloaked in black robes with a concealed face spoke up:
"Roughly seven or eight meters long, with a specialized, precision breath weapon. Strip away the exaggerated rumors, and there doesn't seem to be anything too special about it."
His name was Vincent, hailing from a certain thieves' guild.
Ivan let out a boisterous laugh. "After all this time, the dragon still hasn't been brought down for one reason only: the Northerners are too weak. They can't even deal with those white beasts, let alone a red dragon.
"We're different. I'm a dragonslayer."
Bennett snapped, "Damn it, Ivan, put away that bragging of yours! Even a juvenile red dragon is no easy prey. What's more... he's built up a massive power base.
"Our mission this time is to sneak in, slay the sleeping red dragon, and take everything good in his vault. Understood? If a good opportunity doesn't present itself, we ignore the dragon entirely and head straight for the treasury."
Ivan sneered at this.
"Heh, sneaking around like thieves in the shadows. When I killed my dragon, I didn't skulk about like a coward."
The usually quiet Vincent couldn't resist retorting, "Shut that mouth of yours. It stinks worse than a goblin."
Ivan glared, his beard twitching as he prepared to fire back, but Bennett abruptly cut him off.
"Shh—quiet!"
He pointed not far ahead, where a patrol of hobgoblins was marching back.
Bennett whispered, "Follow them. They should lead us right into Dragon Valley.
"Damn it, why are these hobgoblins so huge? They look like dragons, and they're wearing full armor... These must be the 'evil dragon's minions' the Northerners talked about.
"Stay hidden, everyone. Follow them, and don't engage in direct combat."
The adventuring party trailed behind the hobgoblin patrol deeper into the area until Bedrock Fortress in the valley came into view.
Hiding behind an outcropping of rock on the hillside, they gazed upon the sturdy fortress walls: hordes of hobgoblins stood guard, siege equipment like catapults and ballistas lined the parapets, several towering watchtowers loomed nearby, and wyverns patrolled back and forth across the sky.
"By Karnas... this is a full-blown fortress," Ivan couldn't help muttering.
Though he had seen far grander walls back in the Empire, he never would have imagined finding such fortifications at a monster's lair.
"No, it is a fortress.
"There must be humans colluding with them. Otherwise, these monsters couldn't possibly possess such things."
The usually taciturn paladin, Tristan, stared at the armored hobgoblins and spoke, his brow furrowed in thought.
Bennett stared at the fortress, his emotions conflicted.
On the one hand, this proved the place was indeed wealthy and that the treasure would be immense; on the other hand, how to escape safely had become a serious problem.
After a moment's contemplation, he spoke:
"You've all seen it. This dragon's vassals are nothing like ordinary goblins. If we clash with them, escaping will be nearly impossible. So we have to slip in silently. We absolutely cannot—"
"ROAR—"
A distant roar cut him off.
"A dragon's roar?"
"Has the beast awakened?"
Hearing this, Bennett's heart raced. Months of preparation, thousands of gold coins spent... This was an absolute gamble, and they could not afford to fall short here.
Though Ivan felt a pang of trepidation at the sight of the fortress, he still stepped forward, saying:
"What's there to be afraid of? It's just a juvenile dragon. As long as we lure it out of its lair..."
*Click.*
His foot came down onto the ground ahead. Intricate runes instantly flared to life, and flames erupted from the earth.
"Not good—a Glyph of Warding!"
"Get back!"
Bennett hastily raised his staff, unleashing a spell he had pre-cast and held ready.
"Protection from Energy!"
A thin, translucent film of light enveloped the group, barely holding off the raging flames. But Ivan's forward foot had already been charred black, wringing a groan of pain from his lips.
Facing this sudden disaster, Bennett wiped the cold sweat from his forehead.
"Damn it, how could there be a spell like this here?!"
Chapter 62