The Red Dragon Just Wants To Do As It Pleases
Chapter 92 - 89: Spicy

Chapter 92: Chapter 89: Spicy

Seeing that he had already intimidated this bunch of clueless Drow and secured the qualifications to meet the ’Receiver,’ David abandoned any further notion of picking a fight. The tip of his tail deftly flipped the brass cup upside down onto the oak bar counter. Then, under the Drow’s invitation and watchful gaze, he ascended the spiral staircase to the second floor with majestic, tiger-like strides.

Hiatt and their two companions, along with the Winter Wolf, who were behind David, were about to follow but were stopped by the attendant. They all looked towards David. Seeing their Dragon Lord’s tail wave at them as if completely unconcerned, they immediately stayed put at the foot of the spiral staircase, ending up in a staring contest with the Drow attendant.

As soon as David reached the second floor, he saw a female Drow Elf sitting regally in a large chair behind a long table.

This Drow gently turned the pages of a book, holding a pen at an angle. She seemed to be extracting key information and recording it in a journal beside her. Perhaps hearing the loud creaking of the spiral staircase as he ascended, groaning as if about to collapse under his weight, she closed the book—which, surprisingly, had a cover in High Elvish—and looked up at him.

The Drow had eyes distinctly different from common Drow, a blue-green reminiscent of a raging winter blizzard, which set off her slightly purplish, pale skin. Her tight clothing accentuated a lean yet powerful, impressive figure, enticing a dragon’s fancy.

She’s a Drow of mixed High Elf blood, David noted.

Perhaps sensing David’s unrestrained gaze, the corners of her lips curled slightly, as if in a hint of provocation.

David, being a Red Dragon, could certainly perceive this allure from another species. However, still in his wyrmling stage, he would never make the mistakes that young adult dragons might.

He strode confidently towards her, his large, ferocious head coming so close it almost brushed her cheek as he sniffed her.

This outrageous and dangerous action terrified the surrounding Drow out of their wits.

At such close proximity, if this young Red Dragon harbored any ill will or had a momentary lapse in judgment, he could easily bite off their mistress’s head.

They immediately drew their scimitars, intending to intervene, but their mistress stopped them with a raised hand. Instead, she tilted her head back, looking up at David, a smile playing on her lips as she said, "Well? How is the scent, Lord David Uthos?"

David pulled his neck back and looked down at the Drow, appearing somewhat surprised. "It seems Hiatt’s judgment isn’t too bad. You’re likely the first Drow I’ve encountered since entering Spider Nest City who doesn’t reek of that Hallucinatory Potion. Very good. On this point, at least, I am satisfied. Only Drow who aren’t addicts are worth collaborating with."

Before the Drow could speak, David, in his Arrogance, unilaterally declared, "I’ve brought a batch of quality goods this time. Name your price."

He acted as if he were the master of this place, with the right to choose his trading partners.

And indeed, that was David’s intention. If he discovered that the trading partner was also an addict, he would leave without a second word and find another.

The Red Dragon’s pride immediately drew the ire of the surrounding Drow. They frowned, giving off a strong sense that they were ready to die if their mistress was shamed.

Their mistress, however, seemed utterly unconcerned by this. She tapped her fingers on the long table, apparently pondering something.

In black market slang, ’goods’ typically included items like Hallucinatory Potions, Anger Potions, and Clarity Potions.

The first was a narcotic. The latter two were considered smuggled military supplies.

The Drow themselves were the largest manufacturers of Hallucinatory Potions; trying to deal in that on their turf was simply asking for trouble.

As for Clarity Potions, the demand was too low for them to fetch a good price. Therefore, the ’goods’ David referred to could only be Anger Potions.

That was what the Drow favored most.

And for a Red Dragon to personally arrive, given their capacity—or rather, their greed—the quantity would definitely not be small.

That left only one question.

"I need a sample," Alianna said.

David immediately called down the stairs, "Hey you, bring up the goods."

The Drow downstairs were wondering whom to send up.

"WOOF WOOF WOOF!"

The Winter Wolf, which had been lying beside the Barbarian, instantly sprang up. It shoved aside the staggering Drow attendant and trotted happily to David’s side, tail wagging furiously. Glancing back, it unslung the sturdy burlap sack from its back, dropped it on the floor with a thud, and then obediently lay down by David’s legs.

All the Drow watched, their mouths agape.

Winter Wolves were among the most difficult of all known large animals to train, as their intelligence was far higher than ordinary beasts; some could even speak human languages.

To train a Winter Wolf to be as docile as the dog before them... one could only imagine what an eccentric its master must be.

Unlike the other Drow, whose attention was focused elsewhere, Alianna was completely transfixed by the batch of goods.

In all her seventy years of doing business for her Matriarch, Flavia, this was the first time she had ever seen anyone selling Anger Potions—in burlap sacks, of all things!

For convenience and secrecy in transport, alchemists usually prepared Anger Potions in highly concentrated forms, packaged in milliliter-sized vials. Limited by the difficulty of acquiring and smuggling Century Aroma pollen, the largest batch she had ever handled was a mere three hundred milliliters—less than a pound—yet it could be diluted into three hundred to one thousand vials of Anger Potion.

The profit from that single deal had so elated Matriarch Flavia that she had directly promoted Alianna to her current position and gifted her an exquisite enchanted Drow scimitar, which she had treasured and worn to this day.

But this sack before her... it had to be at least thirty pounds!

Even if diluted to the optimal concentration for three thousand vials, it would be enough to arm a standard legion of a thousand soldiers!

If this stuff before her was genuine, it meant this Red Dragon had practically plundered half the Century Aroma output from an entire large High Elf city-state territory, like Saeolus City or Dewensen!

If this deal went through, she could hardly imagine how ecstatic her Matriarch would be, and what lavish rewards she, Alianna, would receive.

She even wondered if she, an illegitimate daughter, might, against all odds, be placed by the Matriarch into the line of succession among her own daughters.

Although that would instantly make her the target of all her sisters, the corresponding status, position, and authority she would gain would be a meteoric rise.

But... could such an outrageous situation actually be real?

In any case, Alianna was becoming rather agitated...

Her throat dry, she rose, drew her dagger, and sliced open the burlap sack. She then thrust the sharp tip into what was clearly a more carefully sealed potion packet and pulled it out.

This action, one she had performed hundreds, if not thousands, of times, felt strangely resistant for the first time. It drew out a glistening, thread-like substance, like extremely viscous honey.

"Almost solid?!" Alianna was utterly astonished.

But whether it was its color, its slightly pungent odor, or the distinct characteristic of undergoing a magical reaction upon contact with air, everything indicated one thing:

This batch was not only genuine, but its effective concentration and quality were also likely unprecedentedly high!

Alianna no longer hesitated. She took a deep breath, gazing intently at David, the Red Dragon, who was flashing her a devilish smile. Then, she lightly licked the potion-coated dagger with the tip of her tongue.

This action caused her to freeze abruptly. Her normally purplish, pale skin flushed a visible, alarming red.

"Spicy! Spicy! Spicy!"

PFFT!!!

The Drow, still exclaiming about the spiciness, comically spat out a gout of flame tinged with smoke, under the astonished gazes of all her subordinates.

"Damn it! Damn it! Ahh!!!"

Alianna gulped down at least three clay jugs of water in rapid succession, until her normally slender and alluring waist bloated to look like a five-month pregnancy. Only then, with sausage-like lips and tears and mucus streaming down her face, did she look at David and exclaim, "What the heck did you mix into this damn thing!!!"

"Chili," David said, holding his head high with a proud expression. "I added a tiny bit of Devil’s Chili extract, refined by yours truly. Only by drinking it and becoming capable of breathing fire like us Red Dragons will you truly know that what you consumed is the Anger Potion personally concocted by me, David Uthos, the Flame Steel Dragon, correct?"

"...You!!!" Overwhelmed, Alianna coughed up a mist of blood and fainted on the spot.

"...Quick, quick, get some Clarity Potion!" one of the Drow shouted in panic.

The other Drow scrambled.

"Hurry! Lady Alianna..."

"Her ass is starting to bleed too!!!"