"Rogues or Shadow Dancers—we were never suited to fighting head-on. If we were really that strong, we'd be Warriors or Paladins."
Sanders nodded in agreement with his master.
Natton continued, "You and I were born in an age when magic had faded. Only my master truly witnessed the terror of an Archmage... One spell in magic is called [Fossil to Mud]. An Archmage can turn a huge plaza into a swamp in an instant. Imagine this: when you have nowhere left to stand and are forced to jump into a tree, or use one of your limited daily casts of [Shadow Walk] to get close to your opponent, what do you think will happen?"
Sanders shuddered and dared not reply.
Just imagine it: a Legendary Archmage with a spell range of over a thousand meters and a mastery of Lightning Magic stood before you. You had only two tricks, while your opponent had more than a hundred ways to kill you with ease.
Sanders suddenly felt a chill run down his spine.
"Master, since that person killed the White Dragon, why didn't he take its treasure himself?"
The young Shadow Dancer had no way of knowing that the seemingly omnipotent fake Archmage couldn't even leave the valley.
The old Shadow Dancer sighed. "You'll find out when we get there."
As members of the Rogue class, they naturally had their own special ways of tracking and locating enemies. After crossing two mountains and climbing for an entire day, the master and his disciple finally found the White Dragon's lair, perched on a towering snowy peak.
As soon as Sanders got close, he silently pulled his face mask tighter.
It stank!
Although White Dragons liked to freeze their food before eating it, they relieved themselves wherever they pleased. Even though the cold and strong winds had carried away much of the smell, the dragon's lair still reeked of blood and an overpowering stench.
Sanders saw the bones of many beasts, humans, and humanoid creatures. The horrifying bite marks on them meant they'd all been eaten raw.
Most importantly, the White Dragon's lair had guards.
Powerful dragons sometimes got up to no good and produced Half-Dragons or dragonkin with only a trace of dragon blood. These impure-blooded descendants liked to serve dragons, considering it the greatest honor.
What the two masters saw was a group of nearly twenty white-scaled Lizardfolk.
The guards had no idea their master was already dead.
There was nothing to it. Sanders crept up to the enormous cavern and used [Backstab] to slit the throats of two isolated Lizardfolk. Then he leaped down from the cavern's edges, which were about six meters high, and cut the throats of two more Lizardfolk as he dived headfirst, feet in the air.
Normally, the elite Lizardfolk leader would have reacted in time and led his men in an effective counterattack. But then, out of nowhere, the nearly three-meter-tall chieftain saw the shadow before him move.
"Shhk!"
After a strange sound, the Lizardfolk chieftain felt a sharp pain in his lower abdomen. His powerful body quickly began to lose strength.
Before he could react, his opponent spun around and slashed diagonally at another of his underlings. Then a heavy kick struck the chieftain in the abdomen.
Honestly, this mere one-ton impact wasn't enough to kill the Lizardfolk chieftain, but it did throw off his balance, sending him tumbling into the ravine beside them, which was at least a hundred meters deep.
A spray of cold blood splashed across Natton's face. The smell of blood stirred the old Shadow Dancer, and he brandished the two short blades in his hands, moving with the fluid grace of a dancer as he weaved among the remaining Lizardfolk alongside his disciple.
When the dance of death ended, all that remained was to clean up the battlefield.
The White Dragon's spoils were a chaotic mess. Many items were stained with blood, and some were mixed with dried, stinking flesh and bone fragments.
There were monster hides, a noble family's Battle Flag, shards of stained-glass windows that looked impressive but were actually worthless, and all sorts of other things.
The two masters only picked out the Chaos Gold Coins and a batch of equipment that looked valuable. Clearly, a long time ago, a formidable adventuring party had tried to slay the White Dragon and failed. So much time had passed that the two couldn't even find anything that could identify them.
As expected of a dragon's hoard, there were still plenty of valuable items.
Some of them dated back to before the age when magic had faded.
Normally, the two might have been tempted to keep them.
This time, they weren't tempted at all.
"Sanders, never try to deceive a Legendary Mage. In [divination magic], there are spells like [Greater Scrying] and [Greater Prying Eye]. Even if that lord didn't come here in person, now that this treasure trove has lost its master, nothing can be hidden from him."
"Understood, Master."
Although [Strength] wasn't a Shadow Dancer's primary attribute, they were still melee combatants and hardly lacking in muscle. The two poor fellows worked for two days before hauling five large chests into the valley and setting them down in front of Lein.
Lein sensed the two Shadow Dancers' awe and saw the fervent admiration in his beloved disciple's eyes. He sighed inwardly and thought, I'm making this bluff bigger and bigger. At least I'd established myself as a [Neutral] mage. As the saying goes, if I have no morals, no one can use morality to blackmail me. Otherwise, if I joined the good-aligned Order camp and had to pick fights with every evil faction I came across, that would be a nightmare.
While his mind raced, Lein remained completely calm on the surface. "Very well. I can forget your offense against me."
The two masters and disciples let out long sighs of relief.
Old Natton was better versed in the ways of the world. "Is there anything else you need us to do, Archmage? If it's within our power, we'd be happy to help."
It was meant as a polite offer, but when Lein thought about it, he did have something.
"Can you work metal?"
Old Natton nodded. "I'm still an intermediate blacksmith."
"Go to that Blacksmith Shop and forge something for me. Once it's done, I'll give you enough White Dragon hide for two people."
Old Natton froze for a moment, then broke into an undisguised smile of delight. "Thank you, sir. Your generosity has brightened the whole valley."
Sanders bowed along with him.
Honestly, anyone who managed to become a Legendary Shadow Dancer couldn't possibly be poor.
Old Natton himself might not care for White Dragon hide, but he had a whole host of disciples and grand-disciples! As long as he hadn't retired or died, he couldn't pass his gear down to his disciples.
Sanders was a Master Level expert, but dragonhide armor was still something one could only hope to find by chance.
White Dragons were the shame of the Colorful Giant Dragons—that was true. But in practice, White Dragons weren't easy to kill, and you might end up attracting an entire family of White Dragon relatives. In no time, they could bring even a kingdom to its knees.
With Lein the Archmage there to take the blame, this White Dragon hide was completely free of trouble.
What was a little work in exchange?
Getting their hands on the good stuff was what mattered.
And so the two Shadow Dancers trotted off to help Lein build the second version of the [Tesla Tower].
Before you continue