Translator: AnubisTL
Having done something similar himself, Garos instantly saw through the true purpose behind the Albert Family's zealous charity.
His mind raced.
Connecting this to the Albert Private Army's fanatical bravery and death-defying resolve—far beyond that of any ordinary noble's private force—the answer was almost obvious.
"Blinded by lies and unaware of it, you even go so far as to whitewash them... Knight, your stupidity makes even the most ignorant white dragon seem wise."
"If I were truly a vicious dragon acting on instinct alone, you would have already been reduced to a puddle of mud nourishing the moss, without a single intact bone remaining."
Faced with the red-iron dragon's blatant mockery, the Flower Knight Charles showed no anger.
He simply took a deep breath, his face pale, as he endured the excruciating pain radiating from his broken ribs and internal organs. Pressing his arms against the ground, he struggled to his feet.
Though he swayed, unable to stand steadily, he still forced his back straight and performed a formal, standard knight's salute to the colossal dragon before him.
"Respected Ironforged King, I thank you from the bottom of my heart for sparing my life."
Charles continued, "This mercy, which far exceeds my expectations, has only strengthened my conviction—that there must be a vast, unresolved misunderstanding between the Ironforged Tribe and the Albert Family."
Garos studied the Flower Knight closely.
After a few seconds, he abruptly changed the subject. "Do you think the Albert Family would be willing to pay a ransom for you?"
The Flower Knight nodded without hesitation. "They would!"
At this, a low chuckle rumbled from the dragon's throat.
He tilted his massive head, his gaze as amused and curious as one observing a rare specimen, and stared intently at the Flower Knight's pale face.
Then, Garos posed a second question.
"Tell me, Knight Charles."
"If you were to lose your former strength, your handsome face, and the illustrious aura of the 'Flower Knight'—if you became a worthless ordinary man, a mere burden..."
Garos slowed his voice, finally asking, "Would Earl Mills of the Albert Family, that benevolent and kind-hearted man, still make the same decision he just did? Would he still be willing to pay such an exorbitant ransom for you?"
The certainty on Charles Haynes's face froze.
He flinched slightly, his pale lips parting as if to retort, but a sudden intuition choked the words in his throat.
A profound hesitation and uncertainty now clearly etched itself upon his face, which had grown almost translucent from blood loss.
"You hesitate."
Garos seized upon this momentary waver.
"If Earl Mills is truly the man of unwavering virtue you believe him to be, he would never stand idly by while a righteous knight, who once fought and died for his family, perished in torment within the so-called lair of an evil dragon."
The Red-Iron Dragon lowered its head, its massive shadow completely enveloping the Flower Knight.
"In that case, Knight Charles, tell me... where does that hesitation deep within your heart come from?"
"No!" Charles snapped his head up, his voice rising. "I am certain! Earl Mills would never abandon his promise or his friends!"
Garos erupted into a loud, low-pitched laugh that made the very air buzz.
But the laughter was quickly stifled.
The red-iron dragon stared at the Flower Knight and said slowly, "Very well. Since that is the case, let us make a wager. The stakes are—your life, and your future freedom."
The Flower Knight fell silent for a moment, as if steeling his resolve. Finally, he slowly nodded.
Meanwhile, far to the south.
In the heart of the Albert Family's territory within the Duchy of Raymond, inside the study of a lavish manor.
Earl Mills stood before a massive floor-to-ceiling window, his usually meticulously groomed hair now disheveled.
The harsh sunlight streaming in from outside brought no warmth; instead, it filled him with an inexplicable restlessness and a creeping chill.
He had completely lost contact with the elite family private army dispatched to the Sierre Wilderness to subjugate the Ironforged Tribe.
Whether he tried to contact the Vicious Wolf General, the commander-in-chief, or the high-ranking bosses like the alchemists and abjurers, or even the mid-level cavalry captains... all magical communications were like stones cast into the deep sea, met with no response.
This absolute silence was like a continuously expanding boulder, weighing heavily on Earl Mills' heart.
A cruel reality seemed impossible to escape.
Earl Mills had thought he had already sufficiently overestimated the Ironforged Tribe's strength; he knew those wilderness monsters and dragons were formidable.
In his projections, even if the family's most elite private army failed to defeat the Ironforged Tribe in a single blow, it was absolutely impossible for them to be completely annihilated or even fully subdued.
No matter how strong the enemy was, they were supposed to be nothing more than a group of juvenile dragons and a rabble pieced together from various monster clans.
But...
The complete loss of contact with the family legion felt like a silent but heavy punch to his heart.
This cruel reality had left him unable to eat or sleep, and restless in his seat for days.
He realized that he had probably still made a fatal mistake, severely underestimating the Ironforged Tribe, especially that red-iron dragon.
Those dragons and their tribe—they defied all conventional logic and reason!
Just then, a communication device resting on his expensive sandalwood desk—a translucent crystal ball—suddenly glowed with a soft light.
The name displayed on it was none other than—Flower Knight Charles Haynes.
"Charles?!"
Earl Mills's heart leaped.
"He... he managed to escape his predicament and contact me? Or..."
He took several deep breaths of the air, which was thick with expensive incense yet failed to calm him. Forcing down his churning thoughts, he pressed his finger to the communication device.
"Hello, Earl Mills."
A deep, booming voice, like rolling thunder and devoid of any human quality, emanated from the crystal ball, filling the opulent, silent study.
This was no voice a human knight could produce.
Earl Mills's expression instantly contorted.
He stared fixedly at the crystal ball, taking several more deep breaths before he could barely manage to ask without sounding too uncomposed, "Who are you?"
From the other end of the crystal ball came a low, soft chuckle.
"Who am I?"
The thunderous voice said, "I believe a man as wise and shrewd as Earl Mills should already have the answer in his heart."
"Don't waste time with questions," the voice said. "Let's get straight to the point—the ransom."
Earl Mills fell silent for a long moment, his mind racing as he weighed his options.
Ultimately, he chose to face reality and began negotiating with the red-iron dragon on the other end of the communication line.
"What do you want?" he asked, his words clipped and direct.
"It's simple," the voice replied, its tone sharp and decisive. "The same terms every defeated foe on this continent must accept: land and reparations."
(End of the Chapter)
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