The Fiery Crown Cycle: A Dragon's Rebirth

Chapter 109

"Send out your spokesperson," Aiden rumbled. It was a blatant, naked threat.

His red eyes scanned the survivors and locked onto the old man in the center. The other elves were all wearing the standard-issue, "nature's embrace" forest-chic outfits, but this one was in a full, dark green robe. He was impossible to miss.

The Wood Elf priest felt the gaze and stepped forward, his back straight.

Aiden stretched his long neck, bringing his crimson snout inches from the old elf's face. He recoiled slightly. He smells like sawdust and moss. Nothing like that flowery scent his goddess had.

He pulled back, his red eyes fixed on the priest. "Are you in charge?"

"If you are seeking one who speaks for us, then yes, I am." The priest's face was a map of wrinkles, but his eyes were sharp. Those green pupils held no fear, no awe.

Aiden sneered internally. No wonder this race is so washed-up. They still act like they're the top dogs of Aethelgard.

"Good. Then what's your choice?" Aiden huffed, twin jets of hot steam blasting from his nostrils.

The old man flinched, his face contorting in a brief, fascinating struggle. Finally, he spoke, his voice strained. "We choose... compensation."

"Smart," Aiden rumbled. "Looks like your brain isn't completely rotted to sawdust yet." A flicker of genuine surprise passed through his eyes. He'd half-expected this "tree trash" to start screaming about "honor" and mount some suicidal, "fiery" counter-attack.

Aiden raised his head, his gaze sweeping over the elves' weapons. They were all crafted from refined iron, etched with elven runes.

Good. These were practically half-magical weapons. With the refined iron, they were on par with low-grade magical gear, and being "elf antiques"... Yeah, these will fetch a great price.

"Alright, pile it all up. Gold, materials, and weapons—everything." His voice dropped to a low growl. "And I advise you not to try and hold anything back..."

Whoosh.

A white shape landed beside him, folding her wings.

The Wood Elves flinched again. Another dragon. This one was white, and the look in her eyes was... wrong. The priest's gaze fell on the magic crystal Bianca was clutching, and his pupils contracted in horror. He recognized whose crystal that was.

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Bianca, meanwhile, was staring at the crowd of elves, a thick string of drool dripping from her maw. The genetic memory... I think it said elves are yummy, rawr! There are so many... If I just eat one... or two... Aiden probably won't even care, right? Rawr?

She took a hopeful step forward.

She barely took a step before a heavy red claw slammed down on her head, pinning her face-first to the scorched earth.

Aiden glanced down at the white head struggling under his paw. This idiot. Perfect timing. He looked back at the terrified elves. "If I find you've held back one valuable thing," he snarled, "you get to fill her stomach."

The priest turned to face his people. Their eyes were sharp, defiant. He could see they were still living in the past, lost in their ancient glory. But we are a fallen race, he knew, a bitter truth. We're weaker now than the humans we once enslaved. They just don't see it.

"Do as he says," the priest commanded.

"Elder! You can't!" a young elf shouted. "If we surrender to this beast, how are we any different from the Sun Elves who lost their honor? What was Tharion's sacrifice for?!"

Listening to the youth's impassioned, suicidal speech, the priest's expression turned to ice. "We Wood Elves don't fear sacrifice!" the boy yelled, and the others nodded.

How ridiculous, the priest thought. I was just like him, once. Was I always this pathetic?

Three green rings of mana formed in front of the priest.

"We should..." the boy began to yell again.

CRACK!

A gnarled, dead-looking root shot from the earth and impaled the young elf, stopping his words forever. Green blood spattered the ground.

"Now, do as I said!" the priest roared, his voice cold. "Get everything. Anyone who disobeys, dies!"

The other young elves stared at their dead companion, their faces a mix of confusion and terror. Their kind, gentle elder... gone.

The young elves scrambled to obey. Aiden watched them scurry into their ruined homes, a flash of boredom in his eyes. Seriously? he thought. I was hoping for a bit more of a show. What a letdown. Tsk. No balls. Why not just kill the old guy and then try to 'slay the dragon'?

The head under his paw was still wiggling. "Hot! Aiden-rawr, lemme up! It's hot!"

He lifted his claw. Bianca scrambled backward, lost her balance, and plopped onto the ground, sitting straight up on her rear haunches, her hind legs splayed out.

"What was that for, rawr?!" she whined.

"You can't eat. Yet," Aiden said.

Bianca's eyes lit up. Oh! Aiden likes barbecue! Is he gonna roast them first?

"So I can eat later? Rawr?"

"We'll see," he said dismissively. He looked down at the sigil on his right claw. Time for my contractor to do her job. She was, he had to admit, a perfect tool. I'm going to make an absolute killing this time. Heh heh heh... His maw split into a greedy, silent laugh.

The elves worked quickly, and soon a small mountain of goods was piled before him. Refined iron, weapons, staves, elven gold and silver coins, jewelry, magical items, stone tablets, pottery, and antiques. Most of it he didn't recognize, but it all looked valuable. His red pupils stretched wide again.

"Everything you demanded is here," the priest said, his voice flat.

Aiden leaned in. "You better be sure, old tree-trash. You sure you didn't 'miss' anything?"

The priest met his gaze. "I am sure."

Aiden raised his head, looking past the pile to the ruined treehouses. He closed his eyes, extending his draconic senses. He could feel no telltale mana fluctuations, no hidden auras.

The old man was telling the truth.