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The interface unfolded before Cassius.

[You have broken someone’s mental defenses with words, earning the achievement 【Silver Tongue】]

Achievement 【Silver Tongue】

“My tongue can be a thorned rose or a poison-coated sword; it all depends on your choice—a quote from an unnamed devil of the underworld.”

New Passive Trait Acquired: 【Persuader】

Persuasion +6, Deception +4, and an additional spell 【Suggestion】

You are a rare persuader, wielding words as your strongest asset. Your rhetoric can drive others to follow you to any end; your wiles can disguise all crimes. Your words can turn black into white and plunge the world into chaos.

【Suggestion】

2nd-level Enchantment Spell

You influence a creature within range by implanting a suggestion (your words must sound reasonable to encourage the desired action).

“Not a bad passive trait—it’ll come in handy in the right circumstances.”

That was Cassius’s evaluation.

Although it’s not particularly useful in combat, having more skills is never a bad thing. Sooner or later, it’ll prove its worth, especially with a rare 2nd-level spell included.

The recent intrusion by the Eagle Guards had dealt significant losses to the Ember Nest, which was still in its infancy.

According to Langpu’s tally, two wyverns, seven ogres, eighty-six goblins, and ninety-five kobolds perished, with countless more injured. Even the chimera was severely wounded and temporarily unable to fight.

This incident had alerted Cassius.

Goblins and kobolds were expendable; he could quickly replenish their numbers. By next year, there would be hundreds of new recruits, and he might even need to cull the population a bit.

But the loss of wyverns, which were both powerful and slow to reproduce, stung Cassius.

Moreover, if he hadn’t returned in time, the losses could have been far worse.

This was not a good sign.

Cassius realized that the quality of the Ember Nest’s minions was beginning to lag behind his rapidly growing power, which could lead to a dire situation:

In the future, after one battle, his lair could be completely wiped out by the enemy before he even had a chance to rest.

With this in mind, Cassius turned his gaze to the special ability on the interface, “Bloodline Gift.”

【Bloodline Gift】

[You are a natural leader, capable of influencing creatures within your territory through your powerful aura. By performing a ritual with your own blood, you can create bloodline-bound minions.]

[Once the ritual is complete, they will be bound by your bloodline’s power, becoming your eternal vassals, along with their descendants.]

“Spending a bit of blood to create loyal and reliable subordinates seems like a fair trade.”

Cassius thought.

With that decision, Cassius let out a distant roar, summoning all his minions to gather in the valley’s clearing.

“Roar—”

This was the first major assembly for the Ember Nest.

A summons from the red dragon himself—it seemed something significant was about to happen, and each leader of the various groups took it very seriously.

Langpu lectured the ogres on discipline, Dolo donned his intimidating leather armor, Gold-Fang polished his scales, and even the wyverns growled in low tones, exchanging words of curiosity.

The entire Ember Nest was abuzz, with only essential guards left at their posts while the rest poured out.

Over a thousand monsters of every kind filled the valley, crowding, bickering, and creating a cacophony—even goblins and kobolds clashed with each other.

Both numerous and relatively weak, goblins and kobolds were naturally at odds. The goblins believed they were the original founders of the nest, while the kobolds felt they had a closer kinship to the dragon and regarded the goblins as mere cannon fodder.

“Move it, goblins!”

“This is our spot!”

“You came late, so go to the back!”

Some of the taller kobolds chattered defiantly, blocking the front.

The goblins, enraged, tried to force their way through, and the kobolds surged forward in response.

“Step aside—you’re blocking us!”

The goblins parted, and the towering hobgoblin leader, Dolo, stepped forward.

Several burly bugbears flanked him, promptly kicking the kobolds back several meters.

Despite the low status of common goblins, the hobgoblins and bugbears commanded powerful respect as the military and construction overseers of the nest, a power even Gold-Fang, the kobold leader, dared not challenge.

The rebuffed kobolds slinked away, muttering quietly.

Next came the lizardfolk, leading their tribe.

They numbered just over fifty, larger than goblins and kobolds, about human-sized, resembling a cross between upright lizards and crocodiles. They bore crude wooden spears and carapace shields, showcasing their formidable strength.

However, as newcomers to the Ember Nest, still lacking a stable foothold, they refrained from provoking any other tribes.

This was the Blackfang Lizardfolk tribe, who joined while the dragon was away in the depths.

They had previously dwelled in abandoned caverns, fleeing a calamity caused by a Green-Footed Drake, and had been temporarily accepted by Langpu, who managed the lair in Cassius’s absence. They had yet to receive the dragon’s formal approval.

The lizardfolk chieftain had yet to meet the red dragon in person, only having glimpsed his majesty in battle, which solidified their resolve to submit.

Their leader, Ack Longfang, bore the name for his dagger-like large teeth.

Unlike typical lizardfolk, his massive, muscular frame stood over two meters tall. His head fin rose high, vibrant like a crown, signaling both strength and a tool for attracting mates.

He wielded a trident made of crocodile bone—the symbol of leadership in his tribe.

Yet, Ack Longfang felt uneasy, unsure whether the mighty red dragon would accept him.

He glanced at the elderly shaman beside him, Koda Blackscale, a bent, grizzled lizardfolk with cloudy eyes and a single black scale on his chest.

“Koda, do you think we’ll find refuge here?”

The lizardfolk shaman did not respond, merely smiling knowingly and gesturing behind them.

Several brawny lizardfolk were carrying heavy chests, guarded on all sides.

From the cracks in the chests, glints of gold shone through—filled with assorted golden treasures, some looted from human caravans, others unearthed from caves, representing years of wealth accumulated by the Blackfang tribe.

“You can always count on a red dragon’s greed.”

The old shaman spoke softly, reciting an ancient proverb.