I Will Eventually Become a Capitalist Tycoon?

With a figure in tow.

The Black Empress raised her head and looked behind the Lord.

There stood another figure.

The man had black hair and red eyes, wore hunting attire, and had a crown on his head.

What was that?

Were there monsters in this world that could still contend with a true dragon?

Those words were like thunder, making everyone present feel as though a storm had erupted in their hearts.

The Grand Duke and the Empress both raised their heads and looked ahead.

Behind the Shapeshifter stood a figure.

He was someone who looked, even at a glance, exceedingly rakish.

He clearly knew this was a solemn occasion for hunting a true dragon.

Yet he had his arm around a purple-haired woman who looked exceptionally virtuous.

And he did not forget to reach out and pinch the cheek of another girl beside him.

What a frivolous sight.

Yet no one present could voice a single word of "reproach."

Herremart raised her head and met the man's gaze.

Scorching heat, mania, despair, wailing...

Like a gateway that constantly exerted gravitational pull, dragging all things into hell.

That was the vicious image reflected in the eyes embedded in that utterly flippant face.

The Flame Demon King.

Without needing even the slightest thought, she already knew the identity of the newcomer.

In this world.

Only the Flame Demon Royal Court could give birth to a man like the incarnation of an endless inferno.

The unity of the Sarkaz race had always been rather hard to stomach.

In the story, Theresis had once loudly praised Londinium, declaring, "This is the unprecedented great unity of the Sarkaz."

Then someone checked the actual situation.

The Gargoyles had lost contact, the Wendigos had left, the Shapeshifters had placed bets on both sides, the Banshees