In the square of Black Stone Town.
"Brothers!"
Raylo said.
The boisterous army fell silent in an instant. All eyes, filled with fervent adoration, converged on him.
"We’re ho."
There was no rousing speech, no recounting of their glorious deeds—just that one simple sentence.
Yet, those two words held more power than any speech.
The soldiers straightened their backs, the light in their eyes bright enough to pierce the heavens.
"Starting today, the entire army will be divided into three groups for rotating leave! Each group gets ten days!"
Raylo’s voice rose.
"Take your military rits and rewards and go ho! Go see your parents, your wives, and your children! Tell them that their n are the heroes of Black Stone Territory!"
"ROAR!"
Amid a response that roared like a tidal wave, Raylo turned and strode toward the castle.
The process of arranging the army’s leave and resettlent proceeded in an orderly fashion.
However, a new and much-anticipated task was about to begin.
Taking inventory of the spoils of war.
In the massive square before the castle, Raylo looked at the little thing lying on the ground—pitch-black and shaped like a ball of coal—and felt a headache coming on.
Coal Ball, Black Stone Territory’s "Minister of Logistics," was using his round, pudgy body to firmly "guard" his invisible spatial treasury. His large, obsidian-like eyes were filled with vigilance and defiance.
"Coal Ball, be good. Take everything out."
Raylo tried to reason with him in the gentlest tone possible.
Coal Ball buried his head in his front paws, pointed his rear at Raylo, and gave it a vigorous shake.
"This stuff isn’t mine. It’s the property of the entire territory. We need it to build our ho."
Raylo explained patiently.
Coal Ball peeked at him through the gaps between his claws, then let out an aggrieved whimper, as if to say, ’What goes into my belly, is mine.’
Ed tried to lure him out with a Demon Beef Steak fresh from the cook’s grill. Coal Ball rely stuck out his tongue for a lick, then unceremoniously pushed the steak away and resud his position—a shaless rogue happy to take the treat but refuse the deal.
"I’m counting to three."
Raylo’s patience had finally run out.
"If you don’t spit it out, you can forget about eating even a single piece of roast at for the next month—no, for the entire year!"
Coal Ball’s body visibly stiffened.
He seed to be caught in a great internal struggle, his small body twisting and turning in place with indecision.
But in the end, his possessiveness over the treasure won out against his craving for delicious food.
He buried his head even deeper, adopting a stance of grim resignation, as if ready to face death.
Raylo was at his wit’s end.
Trying to reason with a dragon—especially a Young Dragon whose mind was currently filled with nothing but treasure—was clearly not going to work.
He rubbed the bridge of his nose and walked over to Moonlight, who was sunbathing on a nearby pile of hay.
Moonlight seed displeased at having her afternoon nap disturbed over such a "trivial matter," her large tail whipping against the hay with a loud THWAP.
"Moonlight."
Raylo pointed at the stubborn black ball on the ground.
"This one is being stubborn and refuses to hand over the spoils."
Moonlight glanced at her little brother, a puff of white smoke snorting from her nostrils.
She rose and, with elegant, unhurried steps, walked over to Coal Ball.
Coal Ball felt the oppressive aura from Moonlight, the "alpha sister," and shrank into a tight ball. He buried his small head in his paws, pretending he couldn’t see her.
Moonlight didn’t even look down. She simply extended a paw covered in exquisite silver scales and, with a single claw tip, gently pressed down on Coal Ball’s glossy black forehead.
"Ngh..."
Coal Ball let out a low cry, hardly louder than a mosquito’s buzz.
Moonlight’s pale gold eyes narrowed slightly, and a low, thunderous rumble vibrated in her throat.
The next second, a miracle occurred.
Coal Ball jolted and shot his head up.
Finally, though reluctantly, he opened his small mouth—a mouth completely disproportionate to the vast space within.
Accompanied by a strange spatial ripple, countless items poured out of his mouth like a bursting dam!
Gold Coins and Silver Coins cascaded out like a waterfall, quickly forming a glittering hill.
Next ca crates of Weapons, bundles of arrows, and a mountain of Armor, all crashing together with a deafening clang of tal.
Then ca grain, bolts of cloth, various ores, lumber...
Everyone in the square stared, dumbfounded, at the surreal scene.
The Scribe, Evan, and his assistants stood frozen in place, holding paper and quills, completely at a loss as to where to even begin counting.
"My god..."
Evan muttered to himself, watching the square rapidly fill up.
"How... how many warehouses will we need to build to store all this?"
Moonlight retracted her claw, swished her tail in satisfaction, and turned to walk over to the roast goose a servant had just brought out.
Coal Ball’s spewing of supplies gradually slowed, and the items he spat out grew increasingly precious.
There were crates of Scrolls affixed with Magic Seals, various Magical Beast Materials pulsating with Magic Power, and many strange, unknown tals and Gemstones.
As he spat them out, he kept sneaking aggrieved little glances at the mountain of wealth, a heartbroken gurgle rumbling in his throat. With teary eyes, he looked just like a child who’d had all his favorite toys snatched away.
As he reached the end, he seed to be trying to hold a little back.
He clamped his mouth shut and even scooted back a bit.
Moonlight, who was in the middle of gnawing on a goose leg, froze. Her pale gold eyes swept over him with a cold glare.
Coal Ball shivered as if struck by an Immobilization Technique.
He shot a desperate look at Moonlight, then at his treasure hoard. Finally, under the big boss’s tyrannical pressure, he opened his mouth with a mix of grief and indignation and, with a soft "POOF," spat out the last few items.
They were two crates of High Tier Elental Magical Beasts, one crate of High Tier Magic Cores of Magical Beasts, and several pieces of Rare Ore that shimred with starlight.
After spitting all that out, he seed to have been drained of all his strength. He collapsed to the ground, becoming a flat, black pancake.
Looking at a fortune comparable to several years of a Kingdom’s tax revenue, Raylo was filled with a soaring sense of ambition.
With a grand wave of his hand, he issued an order to the Scribe, who had finally snapped out of his daze.
"Evan! Organize the n! Sort it! Tally it! All supplies are to be entered into the warehouse. No one is to hide anything for themselves!"
"Yes, my Lord!"
Evan’s face was flushed with excitent. He imdiately led his assistants and charged into the mountain of treasure.
While the supplies were being tallied, Raylo’s commands were also passed down, one after another.
He first summoned the patriarch of the Valen Family from Red Iron Castle—Old Haman.
This forr enemy now stood humbly before Raylo, a hint of apprehension in his eyes.
"Old Haman."
Raylo said.
"I made a promise. If you swear fealty to , the Valen Family will be reborn."
He pointed to an open expanse of land outside the castle.
"That land there, a three-hundred-mu plot, will be the new estate for the Valen Family. Black Stone Territory will provide enough craftsn and materials to help you rebuild your slting plants and Forging workshops. I need you to make the sound of hamrs ringing echo through the Black Stone Mountain Range again as quickly as possible!"
Old Haman dropped to one knee, his voice choked with emotion.
"Thank you for your benevolence, my Lord! The Valen Family will surely forge the sharpest blades for you!"
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