The Goblins Enter the Fray

Deep within Onyxia's lair, the enormous pit had already been excavated three levels down.

Dragon claws scraped across the rock walls, obsidian-like nails easily stripping away loose rubble. She stood at the bottom of the pit and looked up—above her, sacks upon sacks of ammonium nitrate had been neatly stacked on specially made moisture-proof shelves, nearly filling half the lair. Five hundred tons. The number circled through her mind. Five hundred tons of ammonium nitrate—enough to send every stone in Grim Batol flying into the sky.

Her claws lightly brushed over the surface of the sacks, the scents of sulfur and saltpeter lingering at her nose. Once, her lair had been piled high with gold coins, gems, and trophies. Now... it was fertilizer.

Deren had said these could all be exchanged for gold.

She had believed him.

The corners of her mouth rose unconsciously, but Onyxia suddenly narrowed her eyes. An ordinary rock structure could not withstand an explosion of this scale. She drew a deep breath, and dark red fire ignited in her dragon eyes.

"Boom—"

Black flames surged from her mouth, sweeping precisely across the four walls of the pit. The rock instantly melted under the extreme heat, then cooled rapidly, forming a mirror-smooth crystallized surface. This newly formed rock wall was several times harder than before, enough to channel the full force of the explosion in the intended direction.

"Not enough."

She swung her dragon tail and paced slowly along the edge of the pit. Every breath came with tiny sparks, and every place she paused left the ground faintly red. This was the Black Dragon's unique lava-forging technique, normally used only to reinforce the core of her own lair.

Once the last section of rock wall had been remelted and reinforced, Onyxia transformed back into her elven form and lightly tapped the crystallized wall with her fingertip. A crisp echo reverberated through the pit, like Death's countdown.

"Father," she murmured, her nails leaving a charred streak across the wall. "You taught us that power was everything."

On the wall, her reflection wore a savage smile.

"Now, let me teach you a lesson the human way."

Within the Time Rift, Chromie curled up atop a pile of gold, clutching her beloved Caverns of Time Annual Financial Report to her chest.

"Thirty thousand gold for sulfur... ten thousand gold for the dwarves' deposit... twenty thousand gold to bribe the goblin customs officers..." With every number she read, more tears welled in her large golden eyes. "My money... my precious money..."

She grabbed an ancient elven gold coin and bit down hard—a long-standing habit of hers for checking authenticity. With a crack, one of her dragon teeth flew out, tracing a glittering arc through the Time Rift.

"Waaahhh—" Chromie finally broke down, throwing herself onto a pile of ledgers and rolling around. "That big liar Deren! Talking about 'investing in the future'... The future is obviously a gold-eating monster!"

Through tear-blurred eyes, she flipped to the latest page of expense records:

"Special custom fee for a Dragonbreath Resistant Reactor": 8,000 gold

"Goblin express rush delivery fee": 3,500 gold

"Emotional damages for Dragonborn cried at by ammonia water fumes": 1,200 gold

"Even the Dragonborn want emotional damages?!" Chromie was so furious that both her pigtails stood on end. "They were the ones getting high off sulfur!"

Suddenly, she noticed a line of tiny writing at the edge of the ledger:

"Reserve fund: Buy Onyxia a new necklace (unlimited budget)"

"."

A deafening dragon roar rang out through the Time Rift. The nearby currents of time were so frightened that they warped for a second.

"I'm going to kill that love-brained human!!" Chromie transformed back into her Bronze Dragon form and rampaged through the Time Rift, knocking over three mountains of gold and five heaps of gems. "He actually used my money to buy a necklace for a Black Dragon?!"

After venting, she collapsed atop a pile of scattered antiques and sobbed. "That was a necklace design sketch I swiped from Suramar ten thousand years ago... I was going to have one made for myself after the treasury broke even..."

The sea breeze at Theramore Harbor carried a salty, fishy tang as Chromie floated listlessly beside a goblin cargo ship. The little ledger in her hands rustled as she flipped through it; with every page, the resentment on her face deepened.

"Sulfur again? Saltpeter? Or that damned aluminum powder?" she muttered, her large golden eyes fixed on the goblin laborers unloading cargo. "At this rate, I'll have to steal from Dalaran's treasury..."

Just then, a shrill voice rang out from the deck—

"Ms. Milo! Dear Ms. Milo!"

Chromie looked up to see Prince Rivendare charging down the gangplank on his short little legs. The goblin merchant looked especially splendid today: his gold-rimmed glasses had been polished to a shine, a diamond tie pin adorned his silk vest, and even his boots had gold-trimmed edges. The smile on his face was so dazzling it could nearly blind someone, and he waved a gilded contract in one hand.

Chromie's draconic instincts immediately sounded an alarm—the sweeter a goblin smiled, the harder he was planning to fleece you.

"Prince Rivendare?" She cautiously stepped half a pace back. "Why did you come in person?"

"A miracle! An absolute business miracle!" The Goblin Prince gestured excitedly, nearly stepping into empty air and falling into the sea. "Your company's potash fertilizer—it's incredible! The yields from my test fields have increased by half!"

Chromie froze. "...What potash fertilizer?"

"The samples you delivered to Treasure Bay last time!" Gallywix pulled out a handful of wheat grains from his chest pocket. "Look at this quality! Look at this color! The Sandbox is willing to pay a premium for exclusive distribution rights!"

Chromie's eyes gradually widened. She carefully accepted the wheat grains, her fingertips brushing over the heavy kernels. As a Bronze Dragon, she could sense that this crop truly was sturdier!

"Well..." Her mind raced, and the Dragon Race's commercial instincts instantly awakened. "Our potash fertilizer production capacity is currently rather tight..."

"However much you have, I'll take it!" Prince Rivendare immediately replied, his gold teeth gleaming. "Fifty percent deposit paid in advance!"

Chromie's pupils instantly turned into the shape of gold coins.

In the distance, Jaina appeared at the end of the harbor pier. She had only been conducting a routine inspection of the port, but the commotion here had drawn her attention. When she saw the Goblin Prince bowing and scraping before a "gnome chief financial officer," one of her eyebrows rose slightly.

"It seems," she murmured, her staff spinning in a graceful arc in her palm, "I'll have to make a trip to the marsh myself."

Inside Theramore's conference hall, sunlight streamed through stained glass windows, casting dappled patterns across the long oak table. Deren leaned back in his chair, lightly tapping a draft contract with his fingertips, a faint smile at the corner of his mouth.

"Four gold per ton." He said it casually, as though discussing the day's weather.

Prince Rivendare's gold teeth flashed sharply. "H-how much?"

"Four gold, wholesale price." Deren opened the ledger and pushed it before him. "Considering transportation costs and market premiums, it's a very fair price."

Jaina's eyebrow lifted slightly. As Theramore's ruler, she understood all too well what that figure meant—ordinary fertilizer sold for only five gold in the Eastern Kingdoms.

The goblin's Adam's apple bobbed twice, and a shrewd gleam flashed in his tiny eyes. "Mr. Deren, isn't this price a little..."

"Too expensive?" Deren closed the ledger. "Then you're welcome to seek cooperation with the Rustwater Syndicate. I hear they've also been developing a new kind of fertilizer recently."

"No, no, no!" Rivendare immediately plastered on a smile. "I mean, it's an incredible bargain!" He pulled out a handkerchief and wiped his forehead. "The Sandbox is willing to prepay for 200 tons of goods!"

Jaina lightly tapped the tabletop with a fingertip. "Theramore takes a 10% port tax."

"3%." Deren smiled.

"8%."

"5%, including transportation from the swamp to the port."

"Deal."

As Rivendare signed his name with trembling hands, Deren caught a glimpse of Chromie hiding behind the crack in the door, her huge golden eyes already shaped like coins.

An attendant carried in a heavy treasure chest. The crisp clinking of gold coins silenced the entire room. The instant Rivendare opened the chest—

Clatter!

Eight hundred gleaming gold coins piled into a small mountain on the table. Chromie finally couldn't hold herself back any longer. Her tiny body dove straight into the heap of coins.

"Mine! They're all mine!" Like a whelp guarding her food, she hugged the coins tightly, her round-framed glasses slipping crookedly to one side.

Deren cleared his throat. "Chief Financial Officer, mind your image."

Watching this, Jaina suddenly asked, "How much did it cost?"

Deren blinked. "Trade secret."

But Jaina clearly saw him make a "1" gesture beneath the table.

The setting sun bathed Theramore's harbor in its fading glow, while the sea breeze, heavy with salty dampness, brushed across Deren's cheek. He weighed the heavy coin pouch in his hand, and the crisp clink of metal made the corners of his lips lift slightly.

"More than three hundred gold... Jaina's tax fees really are generous," Deren muttered, deftly splitting the coins in half. He handed one half to the chief financial officer at his side and stored the other in his Space Bag.

Goblin Prince Rivendare stood on the pier, directing the workers as they loaded the first shipment of fertilizer onto the ship. Rubbing his hands together, his eyes gleamed with calculation. "Mr. Deren, it's been a pleasure working with you! I'll personally supervise this shipment's return to Treasure Bay and make sure everything goes smoothly."

Deren nodded and watched the goblin's ship slowly sail out of the harbor. Jaina walked over and said with a smile, "It seems your task went very smoothly. Would you like me to give you another ride?"

"Of course, my lady." Deren gave a slight bow. "The roads through the swamp aren't easy."

As dusk fell, the mist of the Swamp of Sorrows gradually spread. Onyxia stood by the beach, her golden slit pupils glinting with restless impatience in the darkness. Only when Jaina's teleportation light flared and Deren appeared did her furrowed brow finally relax.

"You're finally back." She strode over and looked him up and down. Only after confirming that he was still in one piece did she let out a faint snort. "I thought those greedy goblins had taken you for a ride."

Deren grinned and pulled the heavy bag of gold from his Space Bag, waving it before her eyes. "Here. The payment."

The coins glimmered beneath the moonlight. Onyxia's pupils instantly narrowed into thin vertical slits. She snatched the pouch away and lightly sifted through the coins inside with her fingers, the crisp metallic clinking making her narrow her eyes in pleasure.

"Not bad. At least the trip wasn't wasted," she said, pretending to be composed, though the slight curl of her lips betrayed her mood.

Late at night, a certain Time Rift was anything but peaceful.

Chromie tossed and turned before finally giving in and climbing out of bed. She tiptoed over to the chest where the gold was hidden, carefully opened it, and counted the coins one by one.

"Three hundred twenty-seven... three hundred twenty-eight..." she murmured, her eyes sparkling.

Meanwhile, in a cave far away in the swamp, Onyxia was equally unable to sleep. She lay sprawled over a pile of gold, her tail swaying gently as her claws toyed with the pouch of coins Deren had brought back. From time to time, she let out a satisfied little hum.

"Sure enough, no dragon can resist gold..." Leaning against the cave entrance, Deren watched the scene and couldn't help shaking his head with a smile.

The night was still long, and the temptation of gold had only just begun.

Once again, I humbly beg for recommendation votes and bookmarks. A new book needs support, and it gives me more motivation to update. The author offers heartfelt thanks!