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Within the Iron Dragonwing Palace, Cassius lay sprawled across his throne, exhaling a breath of sulfur-laced heat.

“By my calculations, the players will be leaving soon.”

“When they reopen, that will be four years from now.”

Everything that had once been in the Council Hall was now moved here, untouched.

Especially the rich collection of treasures from the Red Dragon’s hoard, which, under strict supervision, was continuously transported by the powerful frost giant slaves to the deepest part of the mountain cave. Even with their strength, the operation had taken several days. The unfortunate slaves had been blindfolded, left to follow orders as they hauled the treasures.

Tens of thousands of gold coins were piled like small mountains, decorated with sparkling gemstones and crystals. Hundreds of magic items shone brightly, vast quantities of elemental ores were scattered around, and hidden among them were precious ninth-tier spell scrolls—all part of the Red Dragon’s private collection.

Every entrance to the cave was sealed with stones created by magic, and the sole accessible way in or out was locked with an advanced arcane seal. Dozens of guardian runes were hidden at the entrance, while over a hundred heavily armed hobgoblins stood watch outside, ready to kill any intruders. Cassius even looked forward to the arrival of adventurers, believing they would add to his hoard.

Langpu had initially wanted to call the structure “The Dragon King’s Treasure Mountain,” but for some reason, Cassius decided against it.

As the greediest of dragons, Cassius was quite satisfied with the result.

Sometimes, he would take a few coins from the hoard and eat them, increasing the golden element within his body to fortify his golden-hued scales. Tinea, another dragon, was always baffled by this habit. How could a dragon afford to swallow such precious gold coins?

Tiefling guards patrolled the palace entrance, and atop the watchtower rested wyverns, ready to shred any unpermitted intruders.

Cassius was currently going through a report that Langpu had presented.

As the unified territories of the former Lackman and Nort Duchies, combined with the original Storm Highlands and the newly conquered Glacier regions, the kingdom now covered nearly 200,000 square kilometers. But the areas remained sparsely populated, with only around 400,000 citizens, even including draconic-blooded servants.

Considering the medieval-level productivity of this era, the Ember Kingdom was struggling to govern such a vast area. Population registration, taxation, and other duties were still ongoing, and it was expected to take several more years to complete.

Langpu had already learned a considerable amount of advanced management knowledge from the players, but applying it practically remained a challenge.

With vast, sparsely populated lands and a history rooted in conquest, the former Lackman Duchy allowed nobles to hold large hereditary fiefs, exploiting the poor through enforced labor—essentially a serfdom system. The economy and legal systems were built around estates dependent on forced labor. This was the norm across much of the northern duchies, with nobles relying on private armies for power.

Such a system was unsuitable for the Ember Kingdom, however. Most of the old nobility had been slaughtered by the vengeful tieflings, and thousands of serfs from Lackman’s estates were declared free. Cassius wanted to establish a centralized empire.

“Haah...”

Cassius yawned, feeling weary from the tedious numbers.

Fortunately, he did not have to concern himself with these details. He only needed to provide broad directions and let others handle the actual work—a luxury that ensured a hard time for his ministers, particularly once the players left.

At that moment, a tiefling guard announced at the door.

“Your Majesty, Lord Medrolash has arrived.”

“Let him in.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

The heavy palace door slowly opened, and Medrolash strode in confidently, kneeling before Cassius.

“How did the task I assigned you go?”

“I have successfully handled the transition with that player. As you instructed, I sought out humans of clean origin who had been oppressed by the Lackman Duchy to serve as candidates for the ‘Nocturne’ unit. They will become the kingdom’s sharpest dagger in the dark.”

“Good.”

Cassius decided to hand leadership of the Nocturne over to Medrolash, partly because the tiefling clan was now tied firmly to the kingdom’s fate, and betrayal was not an option.

Moreover, Medrolash was ruthless and had necromancy skills, which made him well-suited for handling dark tasks.

Players were far too unpredictable—especially notorious ones like Langli Baitiao. It was better to keep them as mascots. Assassinations and raids were one thing, but truly covert matters should never be entrusted to them.

Cassius did not know the “smooth” transition had been anything but; Langli Baitiao had screamed in protest and even challenged Medrolash to a duel, only to be beaten black and blue. The crowd of players who had gathered to watch cheered gleefully.

“It’s time to start gathering intelligence on the duchies. Once the training is complete, send these vampires to the various northern countries. Our kingdom’s influence is growing; we cannot rely solely on information from the serpents.”

Cassius paused, then continued:

“Four years. Within four years, I want detailed reports from all nations.”

“As for extra funding, I will write an authorization slip, and you can speak with the ministers.”

“Understood, Master.”

Medrolash responded respectfully.

His face remained calm—there was neither excitement nor disappointment—he was merely fulfilling his duty.

To the tieflings, such an arrangement undeniably expanded his power. After all, Nocturne would be gathering intelligence not only abroad but also domestically. This would allow Medrolash to gain leverage over other factions, though it would also draw suspicion and animosity.

But none of that mattered. The power structure of this kingdom was extraordinarily simple, resting on overwhelming individual strength. As long as one clung tightly to the red dragon’s metaphorically and literally massive thigh, all problems could be solved.

Medrolash understood this well and often demonstrated his loyalty personally.

With the kingdom now flourishing and responsibilities piling up, Medrolash had only just left when another tiefling guard reported at the door.

“Your Majesty, Lord Fried from the Dragon-Oath Hall requests an audience.”

“So many matters lately, not even a moment’s rest.”

Cassius opened his recently closed eyes and slowly lifted his head, exhaling a puff of grey smoke in annoyance.

But the red dragon still said:

“Let him in.”

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