Chương 29: A Dragon’s Tribute

We headed straight to the newly built Adventurer's Guild. At some point over the last century, mercenary guilds had begun falling out of fashion. I didn't know who first decided the word " mercenary" sounded too unpleasant for polite society, but apparently"adventurer" was now the preferred term. It made everyone feel cleaner, I supposed. Mercenaries killed monsters for money, while adventurers killed monsters for money and pretended there was poetry involved. The change had spread quickly.

Guilds rebranded, rebuilt, repainted their signs, changed uniforms, invented new ranks, and acted as though stabbing things in caves had become a noble pursuit simply because the paperwork had a different header. I never cared whether my name was on their books or not. Then they offered me SSS-rank registration and a monthly salary in gold simply for remaining available during catastrophic events. That was difficult to refuse. Who would turn down free money? It wasn't as though I needed the gold.

I had enough of it to insult several royal treasuries by comparison, but refusing it would've felt unnecessarily rude. This, however, was one of the rare situations where the guild had every right to contact me. A true dragon threatening nearby towns wasn't a bandit nest or a stray ghoul infestation. If allowed to continue unchecked, it could become a city-ending, perhaps even state-ending, threat. Dragons had reputations for a reason. It was a pity I had yet to confirm how much of that reputation was earned.

I left Vera and Malcolm to oversee the hotel. Malcolm had looked displeased by the decision, but Vera understood immediately. Our new establishment had only recently opened, and leaving it entirely unattended would have been poor business. Adrian's security network was excellent, but there were some matters only family could handle. Vesper perched above the main casino floor like a crimson omen, staring down at the guests from the railing.

People tended to behave better when a blood-red crow watched them gamble, which made him a useful bird, though I disliked admitting it. Even if I had wanted to take Vera and Malcolm, Celeste would still have come. Naturally. She would've followed me into a burning volcano while chatting pleasantly about curtain fabric. By now, everyone had accepted that Celeste belonged at my side.

Adrian endured it with the tired dignity of a husband who had surrendered the battle centuries ago; Vera regarded it with fond amusement, and Malcolm was wise enough never to question it. I had accepted it for a simpler reason: every attempt to get rid of her had failed. She always came back, usually smiling as though being discarded had merely been an enjoyable outing. With Vera and Malcolm remaining behind, Adrian, Celeste, and I made our way to the newly built Adventurer's Guild.

It stood several streets from the Vaust Hotel and Casino, a distance that had clearly been chosen with care. The guild wanted to stay close enough to benefit from my protection without appearing to fall under my control. Cowardly, perhaps, but sensible enough that I couldn't fault them for it. It was an impressive building. Three stories of stone and polished wood rose above the surrounding shops, crowned by a steep roof and a large sign bearing crossed weapons beneath a mountain crest.

Tall glass windows lined the front. Electric lamps burned beside the arched entrance, their pale glow still visible beneath the afternoon sun. Adventurers moved in and out wearing coats, armor, travel gear, guns, blades, and every possible expression of misplaced confidence. The moment we entered, the noise shifted. It didn't stop completely, since that would have been far too dramatic, but it lowered as a subtle hush spread across the room.

Conversations lost their teeth, dice froze inside their cups, and a man halfway through laughing swallowed the sound as though it had suddenly grown claws in his throat. It was obvious they knew who we were, and not one of them dared approach. Apparently, none were foolish enough to provide the sort of entertainment that always seemed to appear in stories from my past life. Behind the front counter, a receptionist went pale before quickly straightening her posture.

"Lady Vaust," she greeted her voice nearly cracking.

"Lord Adrian. Lady Celeste. The Guild Master is expecting you."

"Clearly." Celeste smiled at the woman.

"Thank you, dear." Her kindness seemed to ease the receptionist's nerves, though only slightly. Without further delay, she led us upstairs to meet the Guild Master. There was no waiting room, no pointless paperwork, and no clerk asking for identification, as though my face had not appeared in enough newspapers, guild files, whispered warnings, and overly dramatic tavern stories to make the question suicidal. The Guild Master's office occupied most of the upper floor. A large desk sat near the center.

Maps covered the walls, marked with trade routes, settlements, and known monster territories. Preserved claws, horns, teeth, and other trophies rested behind glass cabinets. A separate cabinet contained several bottles of liquor. There were also several locked drawers that smelled faintly of silver, gun oil, and magical ink. The locked drawers caught my attention, but not enough to justify the trouble of opening them.

A short while later, the Guild Master entered with another receptionist following close behind, a stack of files balanced in her arms. He was a broad man in his later years, though the strength remaining in his frame suggested he had once made his living with a weapon in hand. His mustache was neatly trimmed, his suit was expensive, and his sharp eyes missed very little. His careful smile, however, belonged to a man standing before someone who could reduce both him and his building to rubble.

"Lady Vaust," he greeted, offering a respectful bow.

"Thank you for coming so quickly."

"I was promised a dragon." Celeste giggled. Adrian positioned himself beside the door with his hands clasped behind his back, his expression calm and watchful.

"Yes, well." The Guild Master cleared his throat.

"The reports are credible, unfortunately."

"Great..." I was thrilled. He blinked.

"Great?"

"I dislike being summoned for exaggerations."

"Of course." He gestured toward the chairs in front of his desk.

"Please, sit. May I offer you wine? Tea? Coffee?"

"I'm not here for refreshments." Celeste took a seat anyway.

"Tea would be lovely." The Guild Master seemed almost relieved to have something ordinary to arrange.

"Of course." At his gesture, the receptionist hurried away to prepare it. What followed was several minutes of greetings, formalities, and the sort of calculated flattery these meetings always seemed to require. He praised the hotel, commended our work with the guild, and spoke at length about House Vaust's contribution to regional stability. This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. Celeste smiled pleasantly through the entire performance.

I allowed it to continue because she enjoyed watching grown men attempt diplomacy while slowly sweating through their collars. Eventually, I raised one hand. The Guild Master fell silent at once.

"Dragon." I've had enough of his rambling.

"Yes." He opened the folder and spread several papers across the desk.

"According to all surviving reports, the creature has nested near the peak of Mount Crystal, roughly two days away by road. Less if one travels aggressively."

"I travel aggressively."

"Yes, I suspected as much." A wry smile tugged at the Guild Master's mouth, though a trace of nervousness still lingered in his eyes. I found myself liking him slightly more. With some of the tension eased, he turned his attention back to the map and tapped a marked location near the mountain.

"The dragon is estimated to be the size of a three-story building when standing upright. Its exact wingspan is unknown, but witnesses describe it as considerable. It has flown down to nearby towns three times over the last two weeks. Each time, it burned a portion of the settlement and demanded tribute."

"Tribute?" Adrian asked.

"Gold," the guild master answered grimly.

"It will accept silver as well, but it primarily demands gold. The creature speaks. It informed the towns that if tribute isn't delivered to the base of Mount Crystal every seven days, it will continue burning settlements." I leaned back in my chair, unsurprised that the dragon was demanding gold. Of course it was.

"So they're like the stories," I observed.

"They hoard gold, guard treasure, and roast peasants. How traditional." The Guild Master managed a weak smile.

"It would appear so."

"Does it have a vault?"

"We assume there is a hoard somewhere within the mountain. Dragons are known to collect treasure, though reliable records concerning true dragons are sparse."

"So if someone steals from it, the creature becomes angry?" I asked with intrigue.

"Violently angry."

"Then someone may have already stolen from it," Adrian concluded. The guild master nodded.

"That's one theory."

"And the other?"

"That the dragon simply woke up hungry and greedy."

"Also plausible." Celeste leaned forward, her eyes bright with interest.

"Has anyone tried speaking with it?"

"One delegation attempted to negotiate after the first attack. They returned alive, but only because they brought gold. The dragon informed them that the tribute was insufficient and burned down the mayor's house." I smiled faintly.

"I appreciate the specificity." A laugh escaped me. The Guild Master looked as though he couldn't decide whether laughing would be appropriate. It was better for him to just keep quiet. I studied the map again. Mount Crystal lay north of several small settlements and trade routes. If the creature continued expanding its demands, it would eventually reach my city. That would be inconvenient.

"So what do you want me to do?" I asked.

"Speak with it, or simply kill it?" The Guild Master had just raised his drink when he suddenly spat it across the desk. The receptionist let out a small, horrified sound, while Celeste hid a giggle behind her teacup. Coughing in embarrassment, the Guild Master grabbed a cloth and hurriedly wiped his mouth.

"Forgive me. I simply…" He took a breath.

"Lady Vaust, can that actually be done?"

"Can what be done?"

"Killing it."

"Of course." The room fell silent. Celeste beamed.

"My mother is the strongest being to have ever lived," Celeste declared proudly.

"She could sneeze and send that dragon flying at least a hundred feet, perhaps five hundred if she were irritated." Adrian covered his face with one hand, while I remained seated and endured the embarrassment radiating from her like heat from a furnace. After nearly two centuries of Celeste's affectionate exaggerations, however, such moments had long since become little more than background noise.

The Guild Master stared at her before slowly turning toward me, clearly uncertain whether he had just received useful tactical information or witnessed the beginning of a new religion.

"Don't encourage her fantasies." Celeste gasped.

"Those are not fantasies."

"Decorative lies, then."

"Affectionate exaggerations."

"Public nuisances." She smiled triumphantly.

"See? Affection." The Guild Master looked between us with the stiff expression of a man who had wandered into a family argument and desperately wanted to return to discussing the dragon.

"So," I began as I rose from the chair, "when do we leave?" Celeste pouted slightly, but I ignored it. That was how one handled her. Not by arguing or scolding too deeply and certainly not by showing weakness. If I were harsh with her, she might disappear for thirty minutes before returning and behaving exactly the same, as though the conversation had been a refreshing breeze. Her skin was either impossibly thick, or things within her head simply registered differently from how they did for everyone else.

Possibly both…

"As soon as possible," the Guild Master answered, rising quickly.

"If you can depart today, we may be able to reduce casualties significantly."

"Then we depart today." I was ready to hunt a dragon. Relief broke across his face so visibly that it almost became undignified. He gathered the documents, maps, and witness statements into a folder and handed it to Adrian because even strangers seemed to understand that Adrian was the responsible one. Adrian accepted it without comment. The guild master bowed again.

"The guild will provide any supplies, vehicles, ammunition, or personnel you require."

"I require none."

"Of course."

"Send no one after us unless I specifically request assistance." He hesitated.

"Lady Vaust, if the dragon…"

"If the dragon kills me, sending more people will not improve the situation." His mouth snapped shut, and I found myself approving of how quickly he was learning as we left the office, descended the stairs, and passed through the guild hall. This time, the hush followed us more openly. Several adventurers stared as we crossed the room. One young woman made the sign of some protective charm over her heart. A man standing near the wall whispered the word" dragon" to his companion.

News traveled quickly, but fear always managed to outrun it. Outside, our brand-new car waited at the curb, its polished black body gleaming beneath the daylight. Metal trim framed the windows, leather seats filled the interior, and the engine grumbled with all the dignity of a chained beast suffering from digestive trouble. Celeste adored it. Adrian merely tolerated its existence. I found it convenient, though it was still slower than my legs.

The driver stood ready beside the vehicle, but Adrian dismissed him with a nod.

"I'll drive."

"Try not to crash." Adrian looked at me.

"I have been driving for thirty years."

"Humans have walked for thousands and still trip over rugs." Celeste laughed and slipped into the back seat. I entered after her, only for her to immediately curl against my side as though the entire spacious vehicle had somehow failed to provide enough room. Adrian settled behind the wheel, and the engine rumbled to life. I looked down at Celeste's head resting against my shoulder.

"You know, Celeste, if I didn't know any better, I might think I was your beloved." I lifted my gaze toward the front mirror.

"How do you feel about that, Adrian?" His eyes briefly met mine in the reflection, and then his lips visibly twitched.

"She could fool me." Celeste shot upright.

"What? Obviously, I love Adrian."

"Reassuring," he answered dryly. She pointed at him.

"You know what I mean."

"I rarely do, but continue." Celeste settled against me again, apparently deciding the conversation required physical contact with my arm.

"Mother is different, and I've explained this before. I grew up without one, so now that I finally have a mother, I intend to make up for all the attention I missed."

"For one hundred and fifty years?" I asked flatly.

"I'm a very hungry person."

"You're a vampire. That excuse covers blood, not clinging."

"I'm also emotionally hungry."

"Tragic."

"Deeply."

"Why not cling to your lover?" She blinked at me as though I had asked why birds didn't simply walk everywhere.

"I do." Adrian's hands tightened slightly around the steering wheel. Celeste continued with all the cheerful innocence of a woman about to ruin the peace.

"We cling every night, kiss throughout the day, and never miss our morning kisses. I even steal a few before dinner when Adrian isn't pretending to be too busy. Honestly, the only time I'm away from him is during work, and I usually spend that with you."

"That's far too much information," Adrian muttered, though the faint tension in his voice suggested embarrassment more than annoyance. I stared at Celeste, momentarily caught between disbelief and the absurd sincerity on her face, before laughter burst from me. It wasn't polite or restrained, but real and unguarded, escaping before I had the chance to smother it. Celeste's expression lit with triumph, while Adrian tried to maintain his composure despite the reluctant smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

The car rolled on through the city, leaving the glittering lights of the Vaust Hotel and Casino behind as we turned toward the western road, the last traces of laughter lingering in the air.

"You're too much." Celeste's smile softened as she settled against my side once more, resting her head comfortably against my shoulder.

"But you love me."

"Don't push your luck."

"You still didn't deny it," she replied, quiet satisfaction warming her voice.

"I'm considering opening the door and allowing the road to settle the matter for me." Celeste didn't move. If anything, she curled closer, entirely unconcerned by the threat.

"You would catch me before I hit the ground." The certainty in her voice stole whatever answer I might have given. She was right, of course. That was the irritating part. I turned toward the window before she could see anything in my expression worth celebrating. The city slipped past in flickers of glass, stone, electric light, and smoke. Pedestrians paused to watch the car roll by, their faces disappearing behind us almost as quickly as they appeared.

Farther back, the Vaust Hotel and Casino gleamed beside the sea, its towering windows catching the fading light until the entire building resembled a jewel fashioned from greed and temptation. It was more than a hotel now. It was our home. Celeste hummed contentedly against my shoulder, secure in the knowledge that I would never allow the road, a dragon, or anything else to take her from me.

Adrian drove in comfortable silence, though the faint smile reflected in the mirror suggested he understood far more than he would ever say aloud. Ahead, the city gave way to the western road, and somewhere beyond the horizon waited Mount Crystal. A true dragon had claimed the mountain as its throne, demanded gold from every settlement within reach, and answered disappointment with fire.

Greedy, destructive, and arrogant enough to expect entire towns to kneel before it, the creature might finally prove interesting enough to justify the journey. As the road unspooled before us, the lingering warmth in my chest slowly sharpened into anticipation. A dragon demanding gold while expecting the world to kneel before it was arrogance on a truly magnificent scale. I almost hoped it refused to be reasonable.