152 Winterfells Crisis (2/2)
Eggface shrugged and flapped his wings as he shouted excitedly, ”Ah! The time is ripe! The evil Son of Darkness should return to the lap of the Void…”
Eggface was interrupted by two dry coughs of the Huge Dragon, who said loudly, ”What nonsense. You're a Black Dragon, a Black Dragon.”
Eggface was dumbfounded and pondered for a while. His claw patted on the Houndhead Man, Peasant, as he said, ”Can you say the last bit again?”
”Ah?” Peasant was taken aback by Eggface's question. He recovered quickly and said expressively, ”The Void Legion is getting close. Terrifying calamity is befalling the entire world. Eggface, Master of Dark Flames, All-knowing Eternal Dragon, King of Houndhead Men, we need your power! Please bestow the Houndhead Men's power! I'll worship you forever! Is that good?”
”I'm not leaving with you, Dad.” Eggface looked determined at the Huge Dragon.
”What nonsense! Just because these Gnomes are willing to be your servants, you want to stay at this place?” the Huge Dragon shouted in fury.
”Dad! I've grown up! I should have my own life! I want to establish my own legend! Let me stay here! I'll never tell Mom!” Eggface shouted loudly as tears welled up in his eyes.
The Huge Dragon was silent and looked gravely at Eggface. He inhaled heavily, and his nostrils emitted hot streams of air as he said, ”In that case, there's nothing I can do. You deserve to be punished for committing a crime. Don't be discovered the next time you steal from the gold vault. Take care of your safety. I'll travel for a few years before coming to fetch you. Ai, I can't do much when the kid's grown up. Remember what you said. Don't tell mommy, otherwise, I won't let you come out and play. You're called… Mr. Sherlock? Please take care of my kid. He's a slow eater. Don't hurry him. He's afraid of loneliness and needs company. Accompanying him for 24 hours a day will suffice. I'm leaving. Be good, darling.”
The Huge Dragon flapped his wings, and the turbulent winds caused the Meeting Hall to become chaotic. Some of the creatures were unable to stand up.
The figure of the Huge Dragon receded into the distance before it vanished.
”Good, the issue of the young Black Dragon is settled. Are there any other matters?” Sherlock asked as he sat in his chair, pulled his windbreaker, and dusted his shoulders.
”There's another small issue, Devils Lords!” Onionhead placed both his hands on the table and said gravely, ”The Merchant Alliance would like to use your power to solve an unprecedented crisis!”
…
Thirty minutes later, in the Winterfell Dungeon Lord office.
”Dungeon Lord, why didn't you make Eternal Kingdom compensate us for our losses? The Dungeon Lord already suggested making some token compensation.” The elderly Orc placed a cup of hot, steaming, and bubbling Flaming Mud on the table in front of Onionhead.
”The son of the Grand Duke, Alexandria, mentioned things about Lord Sherlock to me. Though I'm not sure of their relationship, using this opportunity to befriend Lord Sherlock is a wise choice. The main point is…”
Onionhead sat in his chair and sipped the Flaming Mud. Then he said in a low voice, ”Most of the Devils were fearful of the Dragon Aura, but his Gnomes and Houndhead Man were not afraid at all. That Devil Lord's not simple.”
Onionhead narrowed his eyes and said, ”Winterfell is going through a difficult time. We're friendly towards him because it might be easier to obtain his help in the future. Especially shady transactions that must stay hidden.”
”I understand, Dungeon Lord,” the elderly Orc replied and nodded.
…
In the Ancient Ruins No. 85 Archaeology Section Office.
”Mr. Sherlock, you're late. The meeting has concluded.”
Beast held his cup of Sleeping Worm red tea and frowned as he looked at Sherlock, who had just arrived.
”I know. I'm here to confirm a matter.”
Sherlock walked to the front of Beast's table and noticed a pile of documents. He picked up a copy and asked, ”Is this today's Archaeology meeting report? So the problem's real?”
Beast nodded gravely.
”I understand.”
Sherlock took the document and walked out of the office. His servants were waiting for him outside.
The documents that Sherlock held in his hand had the black words, ”Ancient Ruins No. 85 Archaeology Records: Murmurs of the Ancient Gods.”