If that was the case, Hill could let go of some of his suspicions.
Dragons were extremely proud creatures. The Red Dragon had submitted to the River Styx far too readily. How many years had it even been?
Choosing only when death was at their doorstep had always been their way... Even becoming a Dracolich was a fate they resisted to the bitter end. How could a Primordial Red Dragon so easily allow itself to be transformed into a Nether Dragon?
Compared to a Bone Dragon, the only advantage of a Nether Dragon controlled by the River Styx was probably that it retained an independent will, along with the ability to switch between a ghostly form and a physical one.
But no matter what, he was no longer a Red Dragon.
He clearly cared so much about his descendants, yet he had abandoned his identity as one of the Chromatic Dragons. Hill had always been full of doubts about that.
So no matter what scheme that dragon was playing, Hill stayed firmly inside the Mage Tower without the slightest desire to get involved.
Hill knew he was not good at conspiracies and plots, but there was one thing he could absolutely do: when something had nothing to do with him and he could not make sense of it, he would not even watch from nearby.
If he wanted to enjoy the spectacle, he could simply stay farther away.
Hill absolutely refused to let himself one day go from watching the play to becoming part of it.
Those days had been so pleasant!
But at the thought of becoming someone who provided entertainment for others, Hill felt uncomfortable all over.
Fortunately, Hill could now understand a little of what that Red Dragon was doing.
Then, after arranging Russell's subsequent lessons, he