"I can pay more. Can you give up this operation?" Deren tried to persuade him by raising the price.
"No. I've prepared for this for a long time and promised a generous reward. We must go to the Dragon Isles. I am determined to claim the legacy," Ragnaros said firmly.
Deren felt that he had gone mad. For the position of Aspect of Earth, he would do anything.
"Fine, then let's make the trip." Deren had no intention of arguing with him. Arguing with an edgy teenager would only piss himself off.
Worse still, it would anger him, and the only one who would get hurt was Deren himself.
Then Deren added, "I know Stormwind City well, too. Aside from the technical academy matters, I can pull some strings for your food and lodging so you'll receive preferential treatment. I'll also give you another sum of gold."
This finally satisfied Ragnaros. "Excellent, brother-in-law is mighty!" He even gave a flashy shout at the end.
Deren only felt his head throbbing.
On the morning of the third day, the repaired ship set sail once more, heading into the eastern mists.
Perhaps because they were already thousands of nautical miles from Theramore, or perhaps because of Deren's "cooperative" attitude along the way, Ragnaros's vigilance visibly eased.
He began allowing Deren to move freely on deck for extended periods, and even occasionally took the initiative to chat with him.
Meanwhile, he often transformed into a whelp and flew high into the sky to scout their route. His tiny black dragon body stood out against the gray-white sky, sometimes circling, sometimes diving, looking both imposing and—somewhat adorable.
Seeing the Black Dragon Prince, who usually acted so arrogantly, turn into a little "baby dragon" flapping its wings as it diligently scouted ahead, Deren could not