The Mighty Dragons Are Dead

Of course, this didn’t mean she was on bodyguard duty 24 hours a day.

Often times, Liszt didn’t require her to follow him at all times, and he wouldn’t allow her to do so either—there were too many secrets that were not suitable for Paris to know—trust couldn’t be established in a day or two, it took time to observe and adjust to determine whether a person was trustworthy.

“In Fresh Flower Town, you can move around freely, occasionally acting as my sparring partner. When I go out, you will follow to guard my safety… There is basically no danger on Coral Island, and there is hardly any need for you to utilize your Black Dragon Wraith powers. This is a rather easy job,” Liszt said.

“What if I want to visit Coral City?”

“Request leave and report back; once allowed, you can go. No one is restricting your life,” Liszt explained, “But one thing, on Coral Island, you must not violate the territory’s rules, and also, do not reveal your information as a fugitive wanted by the Maple Leaf Duchy, after all, we are both under the dominion of the Steel Ridge Kingdom.”

Though independent nations, the Sapphire Duke and the Duke of Maple Leaf were strictly speaking, just dukes of the Steel Ridge Kingdom, belonging to the same camp.

“Your caution is overdone, Baron.”

“You should address me as Baron, this is the basic etiquette when facing a noble, Miss Paris,” Liszt expressed with all the elegance of a noble.

Such demeanor was indeed capable of winning people over.

At least, Paris reluctantly called out, “Baron.”

…

The magic power of dragons could corrupt humans, turning them into White Dragon Wraiths or Black Dragon Wraiths—this was a significant discovery for Liszt.

When he studied Fire Dragon Magic Power, he was extra cautious.

He certainly didn’t want to turn into a monster capable of shapeshifting, and besides, having only a lifespan of just over a decade was clearly not in line with his ambition of living a long and prosperous life. His dream was to be dragon riding, not to be ridden by a dragon.

“Speaking of which, I really do have a destiny with dragons… The gemstone gifts from the Formless Dragon, the fate contagion of the Smoke Dragon, the residual magic power of the Fire Dragon, and now I have the Black Dragon Wraith of the Light Dragon.”

Unfortunately, dragon riding was still far off in the distance.

Marcus was mining on Black Horse Island, with Volcanic Glass being delivered to the castle continuously.

Liszt was busy designing the bathhouse, planning to use the thermal energy from the Magic Little Fire Dragon to drive his next Smoke Mission and obtain a new species of Flame Mushroom.

The bathtub hot spring was already designed, using a separated bathtub and water heating tank structure. Simply put, it meant using the Little Fire Dragon to heat the stove, providing hot water with no difficulty or creativity; the only trouble was how to accurately place the Magic Little Fire Dragon into the heating tank and calculate how much magic power was sufficient for heating.

If the magic power was too low, the hot spring effect would be poor. If it was too high, even the eggs might be boiled.

“So to say, whether it’s the bathtub hot spring or the bathhouse, if you want to use the Magic Little Fire Dragon, you must first learn the prerequisite skill—controlling the release and gathering of magic power.”

Paris was a very good demonstration object for how to manipulate magic power.

However, after indirectly inquiring Paris, Liszt expressed regret. Paris’s Black Dragon Wraith power, like a knight’s Dou Qi, could be mobilized with just a thought, but how exactly it was mobilized was a profound mystery.

He then inquired about the Court Grand Magician’s research notes on the White Dragon Wraith.

“The notes were on the book-thieving thief. After he took his revenge, he left and I don’t know where he went. As for why he could become a White Dragon Wraith, it’s because we were marked with magic by the Grand Magician. I don’t understand the principles, as I never became a magician, nor can I comprehend the notes,” Paris explained.

Paris had a rather poor perception of magicians.

In fact, although she knew Serpent Script and Wind Language, she was semi-illiterate, recognizing only a few characters.

Before the age of fifteen, she had the status of a commoner and was illiterate. After turning fifteen, she was either wandering or thieving, never having the chance to learn.

The few characters she knew were taught to her by a magician, during the time she was used as material for magic experiments.

Since the approach with Paris was a dead end, Liszt could only independently research the Fire Dragon Magic Power in the volcanic glass, “It’s a pity I’m not a scientist… Paris’s special Black Dragon Wraith identity would be well suited for being a lab rat in dissection research.”

He devised several clumsy experimental plans.

All he was waiting for was the transport of the volcanic glass mines to begin the experiments.

“Right, in my Drift Bottle, there’s also a 36D Specter, I wonder if it could be infected with Fire Dragon Magic Power to become a White Dragon Wraith?” he curiously thought.

A long time ago, any Specter would have startled and amazed him.

As he experienced more, especially as he encountered more and more inexplicable things, such astonishment gradually disappeared. If dragons and elves could exist, then it seemed natural for there to be other things like specters, dragon wraiths, werewolves, vampires, and even orcs, dwarves, and trolls.

Winter had officially arrived, and ice had started forming in the rivers.

Just yesterday, the architect Mbappé Sui Shi, along with his apprentices, left after completing the ice cellar, which was officially handed over to Fresh Flower Town. Unfortunately, the ice layer in the river wasn’t thick enough to start storing in the ice cellar.

Although the ice cellar project had ended.

Other projects were gradually beginning.

Officials led by Goltai were destined to be busy this winter—with the development of Thorn Ridge, stone picking in the dock area, construction of the woodworking workshop, the building of Knight’s Square, and teaching serfs the Serpent Script, training apprentice craftsmen, and the Dou Qi training for children—a pile of affairs awaited to be arranged.

To prevent the newly arrived serfs from banding together, these past few days the officials were mainly arranging the accommodations for the serfs and pairing up their work, ensuring the pattern of mixing the local residents with the new serfs.

The seafood business, with the arrival of winter and unauthorized fishing by the seaside towns, was becoming increasingly sluggish.

Fortunately, Fresh Flower Soap had already carved out a market, and after each was assigned a deputy to keep them in check, Sherlock and Abagon became much more honest and focused on doing business. Now, no nobles were using scented soaps; all were vying for Fresh Flower Soap. For this reason, Fresh Flower Soap returned to the original price of the scented soap in less than a week after being sold at a lower price.

Even so.

The soap business under Baron Henderson of Serpent Spear City was on the verge of collapse.

The only reason it hadn’t completely collapsed was because the soap making workshop in Fresh Flower Town couldn’t meet the production demands, even though Bunier Zhen Dan had taken on twenty apprentices and was frantically working, they still couldn’t satisfy the market demand.

On one hand, scented soap was hard to sell, and on the other, Fresh Flower Soap was in high demand.

According to the information passed back by the Fresh Flower Caravan, Baron Henderson has been furiously enraged these past days, even threatening to duel with Liszt after a few too many drinks at a banquet.

Once sober, he never mentioned it again—for if they were to duel, and Liszt appeared on Douson, the outcome was self-evident.

But more than once he cursed Liszt for being greedy, seizing the profits that were rightfully his.

“Don’t bother with Henderson’s bluster, when the soap business finally fails, he won’t even have the energy to shout. By then, let him focus on supplying soap powder. If he doesn’t see reason, just drive him to bankruptcy. Don’t think that because he’s a baron granted by my father, he can speak out of turn. Could it be that my Crimson Blood Sword can’t shed blood?”

Liszt didn’t take this to heart; his sights were no longer set on Coral Island.