Tale of the Red Dragon Without Dragon’s Might
Chapter 191 - 190: Benefits

Chapter 191: Chapter 190: Benefits

Cecilia, as a Green Dragon, was an utterly unremarkable Green Dragon... Originally thin and frail, even after Tiamat helped her awaken her bloodline, she merely returned to a state of normalcy. However, in her human form, she remained flat-chested, which suggested some subconscious perception of herself as such. Her strength was mediocre, but her social and practical skills were undeniably exceptional.

Cecilia had assured Leon that he’d soon experience the benefits of a growing reputation. Leon believed her without a second thought—and indeed, it wasn’t long before he felt the effects.

About a week later, Leon was soaking in the Molten Lava Pool, enjoying a lava bath, when an Efreeti servant announced that someone wished to pledge allegiance to him and asked if he wanted to meet them.

"Bring them in," Leon replied.

Creatures who served a Red Dragon lived in constant fear of being charred or devoured if they displeased their master. Red Dragons, thanks to their fierce notoriety, rarely encountered those bold enough to seek them out voluntarily. The fact that someone had come looking for him was a rare occurrence, and it did excite Leon somewhat.

After all, those who sought out the service of a Red Dragon rarely had pure intentions.

It turned out to be three Cultists, who claimed they could help Leon overthrow the governance of Watchtower Port.

After some questioning, it came out that the Cultists were from a sect devoted to Tiamat. Apparently, they were unaware that Leon had previously wiped out a village of Cultists who also followed Tiamat—an act that had earned him enmity from Angmog at that time. Did they seriously think the fact he was a Red Dragon would prevent him from taking action again?

Were they hopelessly naive, or was there something else behind their visit—a shadow, a hand, perhaps belonging to Tiamat herself? Leon didn’t know, but he decided to err on the side of suspicion.

That said, Leon didn’t immediately kill the trio. Instead, he kindly remarked, "I’m not particularly interested in ruling Watchtower Port for the time being. If you want to work under me, report to the Efreeti. We could desperately use additional labor for road and dock construction."

No matter how aggrieved the Cultists’ expressions became, Leon waved them off and had some Salamanders escort them to the Efreeti to report for duty.

Just a few days after the Cultists’ unsolicited offer, a pirate ship docked beside the still-under-construction pier of the Volcanic Island.

Many pirate fleet captains were not only richly armed and seasoned warriors but also powerful Undead. Their immortality gave them ample time to hone their skills, making them fearsome adversaries.

One such Undead Admiral approached Leon, proposing a collaboration to take over Watchtower Port.

"I see," Leon said dryly. "So you think I’m an easy mark, huh? Do you assume that because I’ve been quietly staying on Volcanic Island, I’m incapable of conquering Watchtower Port without your aid—or is it because you think I’m lazy and don’t want the hassle?"

"No, no, that’s not what we meant at all," the Undead Admiral replied. To ordinary folk, he was indeed imposing and formidable, but compared to a Death Knight—let alone a Red Dragon—he fell far short.

"Leave. Don’t waste your time with idle schemes," Leon said, waving him off. "And don’t provoke me, or I’ll have no qualms taking a trip to Moon Bay to have a chat with your boss."

Leon knew well where these pirates were holed up. Moon Bay was the location of Pirate City, a lawless pirate bastion infamous as a paradise for criminals—a sort of maritime equivalent to Crossroads City.

Leon had no desire to spark a war with pirates, so he neither harmed the Undead Admiral nor sent him off with any return gifts. The treasure the Undead Admiral had presented—a Golden Cat with Ruby eyes—was, in Leon’s opinion, rather gaudy. Though he admitted it was beautiful nonetheless.

The only temple in Watchtower Port was devoted to the Ocean Goddess. Much to Leon’s surprise, even the Ocean Goddess’s Priest soon brought a gift—a massive piece of Red Coral—and ascended the Volcanic Island.

The Priest cryptically implied that the Ocean Goddess wouldn’t oppose Leon ruling over Watchtower Port, provided he refrained from causing harm to her temple. Furthermore, she hinted that if Leon were willing to worship the Ocean Goddess, many things could be negotiated—including her support in making him the Lord of Four Seas.

Leon had no desire to be anybody’s follower, let alone a god’s. He politely declined the Ocean Goddess’s invitation, and the Priest expressed her understanding. After all, obtaining the faith of a Red Dragon was a near-impossible task—even the Evil Dragon Queen Tiamat struggled to accomplish such a feat.

"Am I that obvious?" Leon couldn’t resist asking during the interaction.

The Priest, with great eloquence, explained her reasoning: Leon’s continued non-aggression toward Watchtower Port suggested ulterior motives; the nearby Green Dragon was clearly connected to him; the shapeshifters frequenting Watchtower Port wouldn’t be spreading tales of Red Dragons being noble unless they had his backing... Leon couldn’t help but marvel at the world’s knack for reading between the lines.

Thanks to his Red Dragon identity and the perks of his Golden Finger, Leon’s combat prowess was considerable. His intelligence seemed decent as well. But when it came to emotional intelligence, he was no more than an average modern office worker—he couldn’t become a smooth-talking, silver-tongued schemer overnight. While he wouldn’t be easily outfoxed, he didn’t exactly have the skill to run circles around others either.

After the Ocean Goddess’s Priest departed, the Mayor of Watchtower Port, clutching a gift, eagerly came to visit Leon—for the first time ever in all these years.

The Mayor was a mere Human. If he had tried to climb to Leon’s mountaintop castle, the searing heat would’ve baked him into a husk before he made it halfway. Thus, Leon received him in his villa at the base of the mountain.

Leon’s villa at the base of the mountain was sprawling, complete with every conceivable type of room—naturally, a reception hall among them.

Seated in the reception hall, Leon watched as the Mayor nervously wiped sweat from his brow. With a sly grin, Leon asked, "Is it really that hot here, or am I really that terrifying?"

"No, no, not at all, Master Leon," the Mayor stammered, cautiously stealing a glance at the black-haired youth sitting across from him. Reflecting on past experiences, the Mayor realized he’d never felt such a powerful presence before. Perhaps it was true—fame preceded him like the shadow of a great tree.

Leon crossed his arms, leaning back in his chair and barely restraining himself from propping his feet on the table. Maintaining some semblance of decorum, he said, "Just spit it out. What brings you here, all the way to my island?"

"Well, it’s just that, um..." The Mayor swallowed nervously. He desperately wanted to be reassigned but found himself cornered. "Aren’t you the protector of Watchtower Port?"

"While I’m indeed its protector, it’s true I haven’t done much for the city. My apologies," Leon said, playfully baiting the Mayor. "That one-thousand Gold Coin protection fee you pay each month feels a tad undeserved."

"N-no, not at all! On the contrary—because of your esteemed reputation, those pirates and monsters don’t dare trouble Watchtower Port," the Mayor stammered. "True masters of war win without drawing their swords."

"So I’ve done so much without realizing?" Leon feigned a thoughtful nod. "Then, perhaps you could increase the protection fee?"

"Uh... that’d be impossible. Truly impossible! Our taxes are already sky-high. If we raise them any further, there’d be a rebellion," the Mayor replied, producing a pre-prepared stack of documents from his satchel. "It’s not stinginess—but Watchtower Port is a small city with limited industry. We really can’t gather more than what we’re already giving you each month."

"Surely you’re aware of Watchtower Port’s relationship with the Gold Shore Chamber of Commerce," the Mayor continued, taking a deep breath. "We’re not even relying on our tax revenue anymore. In fact, we’re funneling money into the city to preserve the seaborne trade routes."

Leon didn’t press the Mayor any further; he understood Watchtower Port’s financial constraints. "Fine, one thousand Gold Coins will suffice, but the amount cannot be decreased any further."

"Of course, of course!" the Mayor quickly agreed.

"Still, I have a couple of minor suggestions for Watchtower Port," Leon added. Just because he wasn’t demanding a higher protection fee didn’t mean he was entirely without demands. "Take some notes."

"I have many ideas, but I don’t expect you to achieve them all at once. Start with one or two—they’re better than nothing." Thinking for a moment, Leon said, "First, hygiene. You need to manage public sanitation better. Build a few public restrooms and ban public urination and defecation... I don’t want to be dodging surprises on the streets."

Leon had never really paid attention to whether this world utilized waste for composting or fertilizer. Otherwise, he might’ve accomplished something remarkable—and very uncharacteristic of a Red Dragon.

"You know I visit Watchtower Port often," Leon continued. "Reserve a plot of land where I can take off and land in my Dragon Form."

"No problem," the Mayor replied. "I’ll arrange it right away when I return."

"For now, you can keep your position as Mayor. I won’t interfere with the Gold Shore Chamber of Commerce’s activities either." Leon seized the opportunity to propose one final request. "But I do have some thoughts on the city’s personnel management. I hope you won’t object."

The Mayor was silent for a long time.

"No objections," he finally murmured, slumping his shoulders. It didn’t matter to him what Leon wanted to do—so long as the Gold Shore Chamber of Commerce’s interests were protected, the rest could go to hell for all he cared.

At that moment, Leon felt a touch of disbelief.

He had been wracking his brain over how to take control of Watchtower Port, worrying about this and that, only for the power to be handed over voluntarily... Then again, it made sense. Political authority ultimately stems from force, and the most significant force in the region belonged to him. Watchtower Port had no capacity to resist; submission was their only option.

It was primarily because he didn’t behave like a typical Red Dragon. Otherwise, the people of Watchtower Port would’ve at least made some token resistance against a chaotic and evil Red Dragon.

Some dragons act as shadowy masterminds behind sprawling criminal organizations, plundering the surrounding areas to expand their hoard and domain. Others govern peaceful and prosperous towns, their taxes providing a stable source of income. Still, others play the role of warlord, emperor, or even divine overseer.

A dragon ruling a city was extremely rare, though not entirely unheard of.

Reputation, it seemed, was immensely valuable—Leon now fully understood this.

What he didn’t realize was that this was far from over.

Next came a ringing notification, completely without warning.

"Ding-dong! Renown Rising—Your fame spreads far and wide; you are now a household name feared and revered alike."

"Advanced Reward: Downy Hairs."