Ever since Hye’s appearance in that Hot Zone—fueled by his staggering performance, his unapologetically arrogant speech, and his defiance of established powers—the top races had started digging.
What they unearthed was the trail of his previous eting with Moth, and the implications were starting to rattle even the most stoic of draconic hearts.
In a massive hall carved from the heart of a dying star, the Dragon elders gathered. The air was thick with the scent of ozone and ancient magic.
"I don’t know about any of you, but I heard that human weakling can mass-produce staggering quantities of precious treasures called ’bones’!" one of the Dragons’ elders said.
His golden eyes were gleaming with naked greed, and his long, trailing moustache shook with a visible tremor of desire. To a Dragon, the word "treasure" was more than an interest; it was a religious calling.
"I bought a few before. Not that much to look at. In my professional opinion, they are totally overrated," another elder countered, dismissively waving a clawed hand. He leaned back into his throne of obsidian, looking bored with the entire conversation.
"If they are so overrated, then why are the Hescos trying their absolute hardest to please him?" A third elder harrumphed, the scales on his snout flaring. "And it’s not just them. I’ve heard rumours that the Toranks are treating this human like he’s one of their venerated ancestors! They don’t do that for ’overrated’ trinkets."
"Still overrated," the second elder sighed, his voice echoing with a weary arrogance. "I truly don’t care about any of the useless power struggles within this pathetic, small universe. We have one primary mission to accomplish before we can return to our glorious holand. Let us focus and do it properly this ti!"
"What do you an by that?" The other elders turned to give that Dragon a weird, suspicious look.
The elder coughed into his palm, realising he had almost said too much, before adding, "I simply an that I have obtained a very valuable piece of intel. It is sothing directly related to our mission—sothing we can use to achieve our goals faster than we ever anticipated. But..."
The elder, Alfred, stopped right there. He didn’t say another word for a full ten minutes. The silence in the hall beca heavy, suffocating. His lack of speech carried a very clear, transactional ssage. In the end, the oldest elder among them let out a long, helpless sigh and spoke.
"What do you want in return for this information, Alfred?"
"Ah, not much... not much at all," Alfred said, suddenly acting shalessly. He was notorious for extorting his fellow elders in exchange for the secrets he dug up with his vast spy network. "Just a small percentage of the next hunt’s gains... Twenty-five percent seems like a fair starting point for the value I’m offering."
"Only the usual. Five percent at most," the oldest elder barked, cutting Alfred off before he could start a true negotiation. "Now, stop this posturing. Tell us what you have found this ti."
"Five percent... Fine! Have it your way!" Alfred acted as if he were swallowing a massive, life-altering loss, though everyone knew five percent of a Dragon hunt was a king’s ransom.
He reached into his robes and pulled out a shimring orb. "This is a recording of a secret eting between the Hector elders. It happened recently, and this specific recording contains all the information we need to know regarding that human’s deal with the Hescos."
"I can’t believe you actually have eyes inside a race as high as the Hectors," one of the elders whispered, his voice dripping more with envy than scepticism. Alfred didn’t mind the burning, jealous gazes he attracted every ti he pulled a stunt like this; in fact, he thrived on them.
He activated the orb. The recording lasted less than an hour. It featured highlights from the Hectors’ own playback of Hye’s eting, supplented by the lip-reading translations their treasures had provided. It concluded with the final strategic decision the Hectors had reached.
"Oh, interesting. Truly interesting," the oldest elder said, his voice humming with amusent as the recording faded. "How many races are currently aware of this information?"
"Still only two, aside from us," Alfred replied, pausing for effect. "I know it may seem wise to follow the usual protocols and share this intel with other allied races to maintain the balance, but I’d say we shouldn’t. Not this ti."
"Why?" another elder asked, looking dazed. "We should be using this chance to rally all the big races together. Or pit them against each other—it doesn’t make a difference! We need to attract more fleets and massive armies toward that cursed place if we want to succeed."
"I know that," Alfred paused, motioning with a clawed hand toward the star-map projected on the ceiling. "Still, you can’t start a massive fire without creating friction between two very sturdy rocks. We need to spread this news first and foremost amidst the big clans of the other universe!"
The room erupted.
"This... you want to tip off the enemies?!"
"The Outer Battlefield is already filled to the brim with their forces! You’ll be giving them an advantage!"
"We need to rally more forces from here first, not alert the opposition!"
Many of the elders objected loudly to Alfred’s radical suggestion. The oldest elder, however, remained silent for a long ti. He watched the bickering dragons until he finally raised a single, massive claw. The room went dead quiet.
"Tell exactly what you have in mind," the oldest elder said slowly. His eyes locked onto Alfred’s with a gaze that promised a very unpleasant end if Alfred was rely fooling around with the race’s future.
"It seems no one is interested in this pathetic universe’s affairs anymore," Alfred said, eting the elders’ scepticism with a slow, disappointed shake of his head. His tone dripped with a condescension that bordered on pity.
"Just open your useless windows and run a search for that human’s na. Check his latest videos. See what actually forms the backbone of his fleets, and you’ll finally understand why I’m saying this!"
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