Inside a castle thick with the stench of blood, Geronimo lay sprawled atop a heap of gold coins. He spoke with Hoffmann Ironfist through a magical communication array.

It would no longer be accurate to call Geronimo a half-dragon. A tail had already grown from his spine. Aside from his legs, which still weren't reverse-jointed, there was little difference between him and a true dragon.

He had devoured the flesh and blood of the House of Cerberus, inherited their memories, and seized everything they possessed.

Their castle was now his.

Only after becoming a dragon did he truly understand why dragons loved gold.

Most dragons were warm-blooded creatures, and their body temperature was extraordinarily high. Whether because dragon blood burned too fiercely, or because the magic coursing through them was too intense, most dragons lived in a constant state of oppressive heat.

Gold conducted heat extremely well, so lying atop it was genuinely pleasurable for dragons.

Gold was also relatively soft. The sensation of gold rubbing against dragon scales was just right, pleasant and soothing. On top of that, gold did not corrode or rust like steel. Even if blood or rotting flesh spilled across it, a casual breath of dragonfire was enough to cleanse it. Steel, by contrast, warped and degraded under high temperatures.

For dragons, gold was simply the perfect bedding material.

The idea that dragons loved "shiny things" was nothing more than a rumor.

Their fondness for gold was physiological. As for other treasures, their desire was no different from a human's pursuit of wealth. There was nothing pathological about it.

Geronimo had been enjoying his new draconic existence when Hoffmann Ironfist unexpectedly appeared. Thanks to the memories he had absorbed, Geronimo quickly understood who the dwarf was.

That was why he asked bluntly: "Do you want the elves dealt with again?"

Hoffmann Ironfist himself had no idea what had really happened. He simply assumed that a representative of the House of Cerberus had received a blessing from a Hell Lord and transformed into this shape as a result.

So when Geronimo brought up the elves, Hoffmann wasn't suspicious at all.

"You failed the last time," Hoffmann said coolly. "Are you just going to give up? The peace talks will resume soon. Once the elven queen returns to the Court of the Silver Moon, you won't get another chance."

Geronimo thought for a moment, then replied, "The elves have already fallen into one ambush. They won't expose themselves again unless you create another opportunity."

Geronimo bore no grudge against the elves, but he was hungry.

After assuming dragon form, his body seemed locked in a perpetual state of hunger. It wasn't overwhelming just yet, but he knew the truth: he needed to continuously consume blood and flesh rich in magic, or his body would begin to collapse.

At the end of the day, Geronimo was merely a gifted youth who was far from qualifying as a true legend.

The Dragon Queen had empowered him with the flesh of a quasi-legendary warlock, then layered divine blessings on top of that. That was how he had reached the legendary realm, but maintaining that power required an enormous price.

If the dwarves could provide him an opportunity to hunt elves, then devouring the elven queen herself might allow him to go without hunting for a very long time.

Hoffmann replied, "Sabotaging the peace talks doesn't require killing the elven queen. Go to the Court of the Silver Moon. If an infernal invasion occurs right now, the elves will be taught a lesson they won't forget."

Hoffmann still didn't know what exactly was wrong with the elves, but that didn't matter. The problem would reveal itself soon enough in a conflict. He just needed fighting to break out.

The window of opportunity wouldn't last long. No matter how many Hellgates appeared, they couldn't hold back the elven armies forever. Hoffmann intended to use that time to seize Alkhemia.

War was about timing. It was enough for the dwarves to secure a decisive advantage.

But Geronimo shook his head. "You want me to serve as cannon fodder? Hah. You expect me to ignore a lone legendary elven queen and charge into the Court of the Silver Moon to face a crowd of legendaries? Do you take me for a fool?"

Becoming half-dragon had made Geronimo more brutal and feral, but not stupid.

He knew exactly how dangerous the Court of the Silver Moon was. Even with all the power of the House of Cerberus, even with two unopened Hellgates under his control, attacking the Court of the Silver Moon would be suicide. The moment a Hellgate opened there, the elven armies would dismantle it within two days—and take his head along with it.

"You think you can kill the elven queen?" Hoffmann scoffed. "Do you even know where she's staying? She's living in that lich's castle. He was the one who ruined the last ambush. His power exceeds even the elven queen's. You have no chance."

The lich?

Geronimo narrowed his eyes and snorted. Smoke billowed from his nostrils.

He remembered the lich. When he had first been chosen by the paladins, hadn't they been training him to deal with that lich?

In the end, Starfall had been ambushed and captured alive by that lich. The other paladins suffered the same fate. That was the first time Geronimo had been abandoned by the holy light.

Like a vagrant, he had struggled to survive in Alkhemia.

The second time he joined Lyon's forces, he was injured fighting undead—and abandoned by the holy light once again. Those undead, too, seemed connected to that lich.

Even his capture by the House of Cerberus had something to do with him. From their memories, Geronimo learned that the Cerberus family had begun mass sacrifices precisely because that lich, preaching "love and justice," was trying to end the war before they could profit further.

Everything led back to that lich.

Geronimo frowned. Why did every hardship in his life seem to be tangled up with this one being?

This sense of entanglement stirred something deep within him. If he devoured that lich's soul... wouldn't that benefit him even more?

The hunger inherited from his draconic blood surged. Geronimo told Hoffmann, "I'm willing to target the elven queen, but you must help."

Hoffmann frowned. "How?"

"I don't care how," Geronimo replied calmly. "But you need to separate the lich from the elven queen. I'll deal with them one by one."

He still controlled two unopened Hellgates. Once activated, they could summon endless demonic armies. Encircling and killing one or two legendaries wouldn't be too hard, especially with his own strength added in.

Hoffmann considered this, then nodded. "We can't fight the lich in his castle. That would be idiotic. I'll lure them out and split them up. I'll give you their location in advance. We'll ambush them again. Kill the elven queen first."

Geronimo nodded. "Agreed." 𝒻𝑟ℯℯ𝑤𝑒𝑏𝑛𝘰𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝒸𝑜𝘮

"But whether this succeeds or fails," Hoffmann added, "you bear full responsibility. The dwarves will only create the opportunity. We will not intervene."

Geronimo sneered. "Heh. Are dwarves really this hypocritical? You want benefits, but you're afraid to fight your opponents yourselves. You're resorting to malicious tricks instead."

Hoffmann replied with cold disdain. "You're not qualified to say that. You're nothing but hell-worshipping trash. Sewer rats like you should be grateful for the scraps we throw your way. Without us, you'd never even touch an elf's hair. How long have you spent your lives in backwater villages tricking farmers into killing their own children?"

Geronimo did not respond. He stared at Hoffmann, his vertical pupils shrinking to pinpoints. He knew Hoffmann was insulting the House of Cerberus, but he was still furious. A dwarf daring to provoke dragonkind was unacceptable.

He suddenly felt an intense desire to drag this crippled dwarf out, crack open his skull, and suck out his brain.

Hoffmann felt a chill under Geronimo's gaze. He had never felt such pressure in his dealings with the House of Cerberus before. Had an infernal being usurped them?

But Hoffmann didn't care. Conspiracies didn't require politeness or pleasantries. None of them were good people; one side simply had to dominate the other.

Hoffmann represented the dwarven kingdom. No matter how far it had fallen, it would not be threatened by some hellspawn.

"Remember this," Hoffmann said coldly. "I'm the one giving you filthy creatures the chance to keep stirring chaos. Be grateful, and do your job properly this time."

With that, Hoffmann cut the connection.

Though Geronimo's slit pupils lingered in his mind, Hoffmann quickly regained his composure and began planning how to create an opening.

The only opportunity left to draw the elves out of the castle was the formal peace talks. The dwarves would be present then as well, making it extremely difficult to separate Ambrose and Catherine. More importantly, Hoffmann didn't want to expose his cooperation with Hell. Acting on that day would immediately alert Ambrose and the elves.

So it had to happen before the talks. He needed a reason, one they couldn't refuse, that would force them to leave the castle. Then he could find a way to split them apart.

After a moment's thought, Hoffmann sought out Heki Stone. "I'd like to invite Master Megaman for a drink. Before negotiations resume, I want to confirm the terms with him one last time. If possible, I'd prefer to visit him at home."

Heki Stone was leisurely sipping fresh blood. Hearing this, he slapped his chest confidently. "No problem. I'll go find him and stop by his place while I'm at it. I gave him a whole batch of obsidian gargoyles recently. I want to see if he's actually installed them."