novelraw Chapter 275: Alberto’s Embarrassment and Shame
Chapter 275: Alberto’s Embarrassment and Shame
Alberto slowly raised that massive head covered in dazzling golden scales, his vertical pupils locked onto the red iron dragon. He spoke in a low voice: “Speak. What price must I pay for this?”
Stubborn by nature, with a self-awareness bordering on extremism, yet surprisingly all his thoughts and feelings were written plainly on that dragon face—no disguise, no guile. Dealing with a dragon like that, in some ways, was actually simpler and more direct.
A flash of understanding crossed the red iron dragon’s eyes. His deep voice reverberated across the open lordship: “Since you insist on a specific price, we will follow the laws and rules of the convergence lands.”
He paused, then continued: “By those rules, for the pillaging you committed, the only appropriate end is to wash your sin with death.”
Then his tone shifted. “However, I admire your ideals. Therefore, in my capacity as lord of the convergence lands, I will grant you partial clemency.”
He extended a claw armored in hard scales and lifted a sharp talon: “You only need to repay ten times the total wealth you plundered from the Molten Iron Tribe, and this matter will be wiped clean.”
Ten times?! That number struck Alberto’s heart like a heavy hammer.
An unmistakable look of distress crossed his dragon face.
Because of his extreme and grand Conquest Oath and Crown Oath, and his extreme temperament, he had been strictly monitored by elders. That he had been able to slip away from their watch and begin his own journey was only thanks to the elders being called away by matters in the dragon domains.
Before this... the ambitious young Gold Dragon had actually been tightly restricted by his elders from acquiring wealth. Every scale on his body shimmered with noble golden light and made him look fabulously wealthy, but in truth his purse was nearly empty.His largest cache was precisely the trove he had recently extorted from various Molten Iron Tribe outposts to draw out the local lord—far from enough to cover even a fraction of a tenfold repayment.
“Hmm?”
The red iron dragon keenly caught the trace of embarrassment on the Gold Dragon’s face. He tilted his head slightly, surprise playing perfectly across his dragon pupils. “You seem troubled?”
He spoke with a hint of amusement: “Surely a proper Young Adult Gold Dragon can produce such a trivial sum? I have already been lenient with your punishment. Any of your kin present here—”
His gaze swept over Samantha, Trixie, and Sorog: “—could easily come up with this compensation.”
The faerie dragon blinked her bright eyes, about to protest.
[I can’t come up with that much either! That black-hearted Garoth should cover me!] she might have thought.
But before she could make a move, the brass-silver dragon beside her flicked his tail tip with nimble precision and clapped a hand over her mouth, snuffing out her objection at the cradle.
Alberto’s expression changed violently.
Pride, embarrassment, unwillingness, humiliation... a storm of emotions crossed his dragon face, painfully obvious.
At last, as if using every ounce of strength, with a halting, extremely stiff voice full of shame, he strained out a few words: “C—could... it be... repaid... in in—installments?”
He barely dared meet Garoth’s eyes. His voice dropped lower and began to stammer.
“I... cannot muster that sum at once... but I guarantee with my dragon honor... I will repay the principal within ten years!”
“Installment repayment?” Garoth’s dragon head moved slightly.
“According to the convergence lands’ rules and dragon custom, that is usually not allowed.”
“Moreover, wealth is like a river; only by flowing can it gather into a wider sea. Over ten years you must pay an additional ten percent interest per year at minimum to compensate for losses due to time.”
As he spoke, the red iron dragon nodded to Alberto in a friendly way; his voice softened. “But as I said, this is a small matter. I do not truly care whether you repay. Consider it a gift.”
He looked at Alberto with a knowing warmth—an almost “I understand you” magnanimity.
It was as if he silently said:
I know you can’t repay, and I know you might try to run. Don’t be ashamed. We’re all wicked dragons—your situation and motives are understood.
“Are there... any other forms of repayment?!” Alberto grit his teeth as he asked. The repeated trampling of his pride had dimmed the sheen on his golden scales.
Garoth’s gaze swept over White Dragon Trixie.
He hesitated a moment, then slowly said: “In the past, defeated parties sometimes repaid debts by handling certain affairs for me.”
“In short: they performed hireling contracts or commissioned tasks, using labor or accomplishments to offset debt.”
He deliberately avoided the humiliating terms “swear fealty,” “submission,” or “servitude,” choosing neutral words like “hire” and “commission” that suggested relative equality.
As the words reached Alberto, the young Gold Dragon shook his head instinctively—no! His face displayed outright refusal.
It was not out of disdain for the red iron dragon’s tainted wicked line. Deep down Alberto held significant respect for this powerful opponent who had beaten him fairly and not taken the chance to humiliate him, even acknowledging his ideals.
The real issue lay in his Conquest Oath and Crown Oath, in his ultimate ideal. He wanted to establish a Golden Law spanning the entire continent—a realm defined by his will: strict laws, orderly society, and everlasting peace under his rule.
In some ways Alberto’s vision had a faint similarity with the iron dragon’s: both desired an order dominated by powerful dragons. The difference was that iron dragons sought dominance and subjugation, while Alberto sought a realm ordered by his sense of justice and perfection.
Accepting Garoth’s employment meant being bound here, wasting precious time and energy fulfilling another’s will—time he could not spend pursuing his own path and dreams. To a Gold Dragon who valued his ideals above all, that was unacceptable.
“No need to answer right now.”
Garoth’s voice cut through the oppressive silence. “Now that the misunderstanding is cleared and kin have come from afar, as lord of this land I should show hospitality.”
His dragon muzzle curved upward in an arc close to a smile. “I am quite curious about the grand ideal in your heart.”
“Why don’t we move to a more comfortable place, sit down, and discuss this candidly—disregard positions for a time?”
Garoth’s friendliness was almost unnaturally magnanimous.
Still, the other wicked dragons present—red dragon Samantha, white dragon Trixie, iron dragon Sorog—maintained high alert. Their cold, hostile stares were like blades fixed on Alberto, their warning intent unspoken.
But...
Garoth, as the victor, had the luxury of graciousness and invitation. Would proud, noble Alberto show weakness and back down now? Of course not.
Moreover, he was not without resources. His spell-inscribed scale could instantly grant him defenses and speed comparable to an adult Gold Dragon. Even if these wicked dragons turned on him, he had confidence he could fight his way out.
“Petty minds are not worth airing,” Alberto lifted his head and said. “But someone as singular and keen-eyed as you, who sees the essence, I would gladly discuss matters with.”
He solemnly nodded his head: “I accept your invitation.”
Not long after, Alberto followed the dragons into Dragon Valley.
By now the morning light had thickened and warmed, flowing across the land like a golden veil.
When Alberto’s gaze swept to the cliff-top, he involuntarily paused.
A towering, massive fortress built in the aesthetic of dragons rose on the cliff—like a burning mountain. The rising sun gilded it in molten gold; the fortress seemed to blaze, radiating searing red light.
An awe-struck silence hit the proud Gold Dragon for a moment.
A fortress—such an asset was not something every dragon possessed.
When he recovered and looked down into the valley, his pupils narrowed again.
He noticed other dragons in the valley—red, blue, green, black... two clearly in the youth phase and two even smaller hatchlings!
Counting them all, there were as many as ten dragons gathered here. If given time, when they all matured, they could make the convergence lands a formidable regional power.
Alberto’s gaze drifted back to the red iron dragon leading the way. He understood deeply: among the dragons present, only this powerful red iron dragon could have gathered such a motley group—raw, unruly natures and varied kinds—onto a single land.
Wicked dragons differ from cooperative metal dragons. They were born stamped with rebellion against order, instinctively craving to trample everything underfoot and sit atop the pyramid.
Only a ruler wicked enough to crush dissidence, wise enough to balance competing interests, and resolute enough to command awe could make these disparate wicked dragons temporarily set aside disputes and coexist.
Thinking this, Alberto’s estimation of Garoth rose several notches.
At the same time, on the training ground in the valley bottom, several young dragons—red Kahir, blue Heriam, green Ludwig, and black Seraphina—tilted their small heads and stared in awe at the battered yet still golden, dignified dragon shadow in the sky.
“A captive? Is that a captive?!” Red Dragon Kahir wagged her tail excitedly, her voice sharp and full of admiration. “The Redwing Lord is so powerful! Amazing! He actually... captured a Gold Dragon!”
As a red dragon, her blood carried inherent hostility toward Gold Dragons and a desire to trample them. Though she could not do it herself, seeing Garoth, who shared her red dragon blood, bring back a visibly wounded Gold Dragon filled her with pride—she puffed up her chest.
“Incredible.” The green dragon murmured to a companion, “Look at that size... at least a strong Young Adult Gold Dragon! But he looks miserable; so many broken scales.”
He hugged his neck: “Looks like he just endured a truly brutal beating.”
Alberto’s hide twitched slightly in the sky.
The voices of hatchlings and youth were small, but the perceptive Gold Dragon heard them all. Captive? Beaten?
The whispered chatter of a few young dragons felt like an insult to the Gold Dragon. He had come by invitation! The earlier fight had not been a one-sided beating, yet arguing with or explaining things to small hatchlings and young dragons was not his style. So Alberto fixed his golden pupils on the fortress that looked like it was on fire and deliberately pretended not to have heard.