Chapter 8: Level Grinding (2/2)
“Not unless we have no food or minions available,” Vainqueur reassured him. “That will never happen. The world is full of dragon food.”
Manling Victor probably understood he should focus more on recruitment from now on. He knew his previous chief of staff had hired a lot of goblins after they had that conversation. Minion Ressource was a full-time, difficult job, after all.
Speaking of minion management… “Where are the sweet Pink and Blue?” Vainqueur asked, having grown slightly paranoid since his last goblins abandoned him in his sleep.
“I sent them to deal with the local blacksmith on my behalf,” Victor said. “I think the Scorchers aren’t at Haudemer to flee the country. Or at least, not only. I believe they are looking for something, and so I want to be prepared.”
“Something? Is it a treasure?”
“I dunno… maybe?”
“If it is not good for my hoard, it is good for nothing. Manling, explain.”
“Haudemer’s region is south of Euskal and north of the city of Rochefronde, which is held by crusaders but besieged by the Ishfanian and summoned fiends. By torching the countryside, the Scorchers cut the supply lines between Euskal and Rochefrond. Do you follow me so far?”
As it always happened with too many uninteresting words, Vainqueur zoned out, pretending to politely listen to what his minion had to say. “Interesting,” the dragon lied.
“Blah blah… no strategic value… Brandon Maure… scorcher scorched… blah bla…”
“Interesting.”
“-And Your Majesty is really listening?”
“Interesting,” the dragon repeated.
“Interesting,” Red the Kobold and his fellows nodded in agreement, before clenching his tiny fist. “The chief of staff trusted us with such an important mission, we will not fail him!”
“See?” Vainqueur said, “Minions solve every problem, when you raise them right. As expected from my prized chief of staff.”
“One day too, I will be chief of staff,” Black said.
“Me first!” Red butted head with his fellow, Vainqueur so proud of them fighting for the job already.
That would keep Victor sharp. He could already see the seeds of spirited competition germinate in the sharp glint of his treasured minion’s eyes. That fear of losing one’s position to an underling, Vainqueur found it so entertaining.
“Your Majesty.”
“Yes, Minion Victor?”
“I earned a Perk which makes it possible for me to learn monsters’ Perks, either if they teach me or if I experience them.”
“Ah, so if I try incinerating you, you will breathe fire too?” Vainqueur asked, curious. “Is that what you want?”
The minion looked up at his beloved dragon master and the smoke coming out of his nostrils, then paled. “You know, Your Majesty, on second thought, I may have been too hasty,” he said. “Let’s forget we ever had this conversation.”
“Your loss,” Vainqueur shrugged. Why would anybody not want to breathe fire? “Maybe one day, should you prove the best chief of staff I ever had, I will teach you the ultimate technique of dragonfire breathing. It is the perfect weapon to kill manlings.”
There, that should motivate him to work hard for Vainqueur’s personal gain.
“I would rather avoid killing people myself,” minion Victor declared. “If I kill a fellow human, I will meet all the criteria for a specific class, and probably level up in it. I don’t want to.”
“Oh? Which class?” Maybe it could apply to Vainqueur.
“Assassin. I really wouldn’t feel proud of this one, even if the Scorchers are assholes who deserve to die.”
“Minion, I have eaten enough of your kind to get sick of it, and I never received a level in that class,” Vainqueur pointed out.
“I never did either!” Black complained.
“When did you ever kill a human?” Red asked.
“In my heart…”
“You need to fulfill a few more criteria,” Victor shrugged. “And you need to kill members of your own species willingly, which I doubt you have yet.”
“Well, minion, it’s not as if you will need to defend me from your puny kind. Stick to my class planning and I will take care of the food.”
“Your generosity truly knows no bounds, Your Majesty.”
“I know,” Vainqueur said, feeling on a goodness spree. “About this ruffian’s belongings, Minion Victor, you are now—”
“Your treasurer and hoard manager?”
“Never!” Vainqueur roared, taking the manling aback as his golden eyes shone with wrath. “No touching my hoard!”
The kobold minions cowered behind their chief of staff, who had lost all the color on his skin. By now, Vainqueur had guessed manlings reacted this way when reminded of dragon superiority.
The greatest calamity of this age calmed himself. “No, manling Victor. I said yesterday selling is a minion’s work, and that is exactly what you and the kobolds are going to do.”
“So you want me to open a shop away from the frontlines?” Victor asked, slightly more enthusiastic than Vainqueur had expected.
“You already have the name,” Vainqueur said, “V&V! That way, we get rid of the junk not shiny enough for my hoard, except gold and jewels, which are!”
“Your attempt to corner the value chain is truly brilliant, Your Majesty,” the obsequious Manling Victor congratulated him.
“And, and, to keep you motivated, I will allow you to keep one,” Vainqueur raised a claw once he had the minions’ full attention, “One-tenth of the profits you will earn!”
“We… we are going to be paid?” Yellow almost had tears in his eyes. “Paid…”
“Indeed, you are way more generous than the King himself,” said Victor.
The mere mention of this ruffian angered the dragon. “I swear to you, manling Victor,” Vainqueur declared, “V&V shall never pay taxes to this criminal, ever.”
“I will send royal constables to you, Your Majesty. I am sure they will agree to a tax exemption.”
“No giving away money,” Vainqueur insisted, shuddering at the words. “No investing. The glorious name of V&V cannot be associated with this madness. Also, sell the corpses. I am sick of eating manlings all the time.”
”Selling corpses, Your Majesty?”
”Doesn't your kind hunt monsters to collect their corpses and sell their parts?” Vainqueur had seen many would-be 'dragonslayers' - he sneered inwardly at the word - wield weapons and items made of other creatures.
”Well, yes, but monster parts. Adventurers don't harvest bandit corpses.”
”Then what do you do with them?”
Victor scratched the back of his tiny head. ”We just leave them laying around for animals to eat...”
”No more giving, minion. You will now find a way to make money out of this waste of skin.”
While Vainqueur removed some meat in between his fangs with his claw, Victor kept nodding to himself in short succession. Vainqueur wondered if he had broken his neck. “So Your Majesty wants me to open a shop where I sell junk and monster parts and corpses. Wonderful. Anything else?”
“This is a lot of work, but you are my chief of staff,” Vainqueur reassured him, “You will find the time in between preparing my class progression and training the Kobolds in those you deem appropriate.”
Manling Victor said no word, as he struggled under the weight of his duties. “Teach classes to the kobolds…”
“You fail to grasp my grandiose vision for V&V, Minion Victor. An adventurer party of minions, trained from the egg and working to the death to fulfill quests; shopkeepers selling junk and meat in every single one of your backward villages, filling chests with gold. Everyone working together to build the greatest hoard that shall ever be! A mountain of gold which will make your tallest castle crumble in shame at its shiny glory!”
Vainqueur narrowed his head, so his silent minions could see the fire in his eyes.
“My hoard!”
Victor made a strange smile, which Vainqueur assumed as one of absolute joy.