The Crowned Greed: Transmigrated into a Demonic Dragon

Chapter 225: MICHAEL?!

"Mr. Fafnir, it’s time for the banquet— wait, what?"

A maid entered Fafnir’s room to inform him about the banquet, but what she saw was a little, adorable shadowy creature eating tiny pieces of the food on the table.

Her hands twitched, only one thought forming in her mind.

’I want to pet it.’

Unaware of her desires, Fafnir looked at her and wrote: "Give me a moment."

Fafnir extended his little hand and, suddenly, it expanded into a tornado that sucked all the food.

’Sometimes, I wonder where all that food goes. I don’t have a stomach... but that doesn’t mean I’m leaving the free food. My master would never leave a free thing.’

Next, his whole body expanded into a normal human size before his silver armor emerged from his body, covering his body perfectly.

Without the power of the greed ring, Fafnir had to adapt to the lack of a spatial storage.

And was there anything better than himself to become a spatial storage?

By mimicking the Space Aspect, Fafnir was able to turn his own body into a small spatial storage, big only enough to store his armor and a few other items.

It wasn’t as big as the ring when Dante first got it, but it was enough for Fafnir.

"Lead the way, please."

The maid snapped out of her daze and read the message: "Ah, yes, yes. Please follow me."

The maid bowed respectfully and led Fafnir out of the room. They walked together until they reached the Duchess’s huge castle.

Fafnir’s eyes widened in awe at the sight of the strange pink castle. It wouldn’t be an overstatement to say the castle alone was larger than some villages.

’Why would anyone even want to live in such a big place? Even my parents– the original Fafnir’s parents owned a normal-sized house.’

Greed appeared on the maid’s head and whispered: "Are you ashamed of your parents now? How sad."

’They aren’t...’ Fafnir stopped mid sentence and decided to ignore Greed.

Fafnir and the maid passed through the main gate and the guards, reaching the guardian before the gate of the castle.

The maid suddenly stopped and bowed: "I can’t continue from here. The guards will open the gate for you and let you in."

Fafnir nodded and went to the guards, who scanned him rapidly and opened the gate for him. Once he entered the castle...

BAM!

...the gate closed behind him, and the sound of calm music and a shouting woman hit his ears.

"Look what we have here! It’s Fafnir, the brutal silver knight with the highest kill count!"

Clap! Clap! Clap!

The people in the banquet clapped and approached Fafnir with fake smiles on their faces.

"Your fight was amazing, to say the least."

"I want to introduce myself as count—"

"May I take a second of your time?"

"I’ll be clear. Here’s an offer to become my knight if you lose."

The nobles surrounded Fafnir from all directions, fighting for a second to talk with him or giving him offers directly.

Fafnir’s eyes scanned the offers immediately before losing interest.

’At least show some good offers, you stingy nobles.’

None of them were satisfying. Ruby could provide him with more than those people offered.

"Excuse me, I’m quite busy right now."

Leaving those words behind, Fafnir dove into a shadow and appeared far away from the noble. To be precise, right next to the second-largest table.

Jin and Emeralda were already sitting on the other side of the table, noticing Fafnir and staring at him sharply.

Fafnir also noticed the dark circles under Jin’s eyes, which were a bit lighter than the previous day.

’Did Ruby’s condition become so bad that Jin can barely sleep now?’

Fafnir’s fingers glowed with blue mana as he wrote: "Thank you."

Jin forced a smile, taking a sip of wine: "Maybe you can... can thank me with actions instead. I’m still waiting for your answer!"

Sighing helplessly, Fafnir lowered his head.

Once again, Jin wanted to know about Dante, but Fafnir wasn’t going to tell him anything.

The silence returned between them. The nobles stared at this from afar, but no one had the guts to approach them after getting rejected like that. They could only swallow the loss or try to find another opportunity to approach him.

BAM!

Another person entered the banquet, a short old woman who looked only two steps away from her grave.

"Let’s all greet Lady Syrophina, a Viscountess in the northern side of the duchy!"

Clap! Clap! Clap!

Just like him, the old woman was approached by several nobles. The difference was that they approached her without the intent to recruit her.

For most of them, she was rich enough to buy their lands!

A similar scene kept repeating. A noble or a competitor entered the banquet, the nobles clapped and approached them, then the cycle kept repeating.

Fafnir was growing bored of that, until a competitor broke the cycle.

"The mysterious masked champion, the silent blaze, the—"

Adrian cut the woman off and said calmly: "If anyone comes nearby, I’ll tear them apart and burn them into ashes."

"..."

The people in the banquet stared at Adrian with wide eyes, trying to process his direct, calm threat.

Without muttering any other word, he walked to the nearest table and sat. His eyes scanned the place before falling on Fafnir.

Fafnir didn’t avoid his gaze and stared back at him: ’I dare you to do anything!’

"Should we... let that pass?"

"I don’t know..."

"If that was my territory, that arrogant man would be dead by now. Hmph!"

A feeling of awkwardness filled the place. The nobles kept staring at Adrian, hesitating about approaching such a dangerous person despite his threat.

There was no way he was serious... right?

BAM!

Suddenly, another person entered the place, holding a wide smile on his face.

"Hmm? Am I in the right place?"

He wore a formal black suit, and he smelled like flowers. The scent was so intense that the people felt like the man used a whole bottle of perfume on himself.

His hand moved through his combed black hair as he asked: "What? Don’t you recognize me?"

Not a single person recognized the man. For a moment, they thought that the man was truly in the wrong place, despite how crazy that idea was.

Everyone was confused... but Fafnir’s confusion was the most concerning among them.

’Huh? What is he doing here?!’

The man tapped on the floor with his black staff. Suddenly, the woman who kept shouting finally recognized him. She quickly apologized: "S-sorry! I made a small mistake."

"Everyone shall greet the champion who killed zero people, the clown who danced in a battlefield of blood and enemies, the man who survived a direct attack from the silver knight, Michael the clown!"

"..."

Every noble and competitor subconsciously imagined the black-haired man with a colorful outfit, a strange staff, and a colored face.

...It matched perfectly.

And Fafnir was the most terrified person who remembered that person clearly.

He wasn’t only the clown he fought. He was also a person he had known from the Holy Kingdom!

Michael tapped the floor again and raised a finger: "Actually... it’s a Jester."