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The bounty on the red dragon has risen to ten thousand gold coins. This amount would be a fortune in the Northern Kingdoms, let alone in the prosperous Floran Empire in the South or the wealthy port of Victoria by Moon Bay—especially for these poor adventurers.

Such a sum is enough for a fledgling mage to build their own Mage Tower, or for a warrior to purchase a set of magic equipment that could be passed down for generations.

Perhaps due to deliberate propaganda by the Lackman family, Embers Nest has been portrayed as a dangerous yet wealthy realm.

Rumors say that within the Giant’s Valley lies the treasure of a greedy red dragon, with endless streams of gold pouring from the valley. While no one truly believes such exaggerated tales from bards, it still leaves adventurers with the illusion that Embers Nest is a “symbol of wealth.”

This allure has drawn countless adventurers, setting off from cities across the North, full of ambition and enthusiasm as they head for Storm Highlands, though most of them never return.

Of course, these adventurers aren’t all overconfident fools; some come well-prepared—like the twenty-member adventurer group currently hiding behind a rock.

But now, they’ve concealed themselves beyond normal sight.

"Invisibility potions—all downed?"

"Yes."

"And the scent-masking potions too; put them on."

"Dragons can use their forked tongues to taste the air, and their sense of smell is unbelievably keen. Stay alert."

The speaker was a mage in his twenties, dressed in a purple robe, holding a hollow wooden staff, his expression slightly tense.

His name was Bennett, a minor noble from Victoria Port, who had assembled an elite mercenary team from various places, arriving here after months of preparation.

According to intelligence from Northwind Fortress, the dragon had been sleeping for a long time.

"Bennett, you might be too nervous. It’s just a young dragon, possibly even smaller. So what if it’s a red dragon?"

"We’ve investigated survivors."

"And your divination spells also confirmed that the information was correct."

"Even if they were shaking with fear, haha, just look at those cowards—terrified by a young dragon."

A brawny warrior with scars covering his face laughed.

His name was Ivan, a seasoned warrior from the Floran Empire, who had once killed an adult green dragon with a thirty-man party, making him enthusiastic about dragon-slaying.

A rogue in a black cloak, his face hidden, spoke:

"Around seven to eight meters in size, a breath attack with precision targeting; aside from some exaggerations, there doesn’t seem to be anything particularly special."

His name was Vincent, a member of a thieves’ guild.

Ivan laughed heartily, "So much time has passed, and this dragon hasn’t been defeated. The only reason is that the Northerners are too weak; they can’t even handle those white beasts, let alone a red dragon."

"But we’re different. I am a dragonslayer."

Bennett scolded, "Damn it, Ivan, put aside your bravado. Even a young red dragon isn’t easy to deal with."

"Moreover… it’s established a powerful force."

"Our goal this time is to sneak in and kill the sleeping dragon, then take all the treasures from its hoard. Understand? If there’s no good chance, don’t bother with the dragon—head straight for the hoard."

Ivan scoffed at this:

"Hmph, sneaking around like thieves in the shadows. I didn’t sneak when I slew dragons."

Vincent, usually silent, couldn’t help but retort:

"Shut your mouth, stinkier than a goblin’s."

Ivan glared, ready to argue, but Bennett quickly intervened.

"Shh—quiet."

He pointed ahead, where a patrol of hobgoblins was returning.

Bennett whispered, "Follow them; they should lead us to Giant’s Valley."

"Damn, these hobgoblins are huge, dragon-like, even wearing armor. These must be the ‘dragon’s claws’ the Northerners mentioned."

"Everyone, stay hidden and follow them—no direct confrontation."

The adventurers trailed the hobgoblin patrol, moving closer until they could see the Rock Fortress in the valley.

They hid behind an outcrop on a hillside, observing the fortified walls: numerous hobgoblins standing guard, with catapults, giant crossbows, and high watchtowers nearby, and wyverns patrolling the sky.

"By Karnas, this is practically a fortress."

Ivan couldn’t help but exclaim.

He had seen far more imposing walls in the Empire, but he never expected such fortifications at a monster’s lair.

"No, this is a fortress."

"There must be humans collaborating with them; otherwise, these monsters couldn’t possibly have these things."

The usually taciturn paladin, Tristan, observed the armored hobgoblins, his brow furrowed as if lost in thought.

Bennett gazed at the fortress, his mood complicated.

On the one hand, it meant this place was indeed rich, with a substantial hoard. But on the other hand, escaping safely was now a concern.

After a moment of thought, he spoke:

"You all see it now; these dragon followers aren’t just common goblins. If we engage them directly, it’ll be hard to get away, so we have to sneak in—no direct combat."

"Roar—"

His words were cut short by a distant roar.

"A dragon’s roar?"

"Could it be… it woke up?"

Bennett’s heartbeat quickened; after months of preparation and thousands of gold spent, this was a high-stakes gamble. He couldn’t let it end here in failure.

Ivan, though intimidated by the fortress, kept walking forward, saying:

"What’s there to fear? Just a young dragon. We just need to lure it out of its lair…"

"Crack."

He stepped on the ground ahead, where intricate runes suddenly lit up, and flames erupted.

"Oh no, it’s a guard inscription!"

"Get back!"

Bennett quickly raised his staff, casting a pre-prepared spell.

"Protection from Energy Damage!"

A thin, translucent membrane appeared around them, barely shielding them from the oncoming flames, though Ivan’s lead foot was scorched black, eliciting a groan of pain.

Wiping the sweat from his brow, Bennett muttered:

"Damn it, how is there such a spell here?"

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