Leaving Michael overwhelmed by a flood of money, Annan ran to the Mage Tower without looking back.
"Who goes—"
Before the guards at the entrance could see who it was, Annan waved his hand, and the pile of gold coins grew by another two heads' height.
This time, Annan said nothing. He turned and ran.
The two Black-Clad Cardinals following him exchanged a glance.
Annan only had to spend the money. The Black-Clad Cardinal had far more to consider.
They had no choice but to stop him from throwing money around, telling him it broke the rules.
"How does it break the rules? I'm giving the Mushroom House a hundred thousand and the Mage Tower four hundred thousand for Research Funding. Don't worry, I know what I'm doing."
The Black-Clad Cardinals followed procedure. One went back to verify his claim, while the other continued after him.
Annan curled his lip. At least he had learned that these intimidating bishops from the Judgment Hall weren't on Archbishop Tomark's side. If Bishop Garcia had been here, he might even have grabbed a handful for himself.
Annan ran along Coastal Street to its end. A large stretch of ground had been fenced off there as a Racetrack—or rather, a dragon track.
This was the White Dragons' habitat. Sadly, after all the fighting, only one of the thirteen Annan had brought back from Star-Moon Bay remained. It was the only thing keeping Elder from sinking into despair.
Free City's Last White Dragon had gone to the bay to forage. Wearing riding boots, with a bucket and brush beside him, Elder sat outside the dragon stable and stared blankly at the open ground, still covered in traces of White Dragons rolling and crawling about. It felt as though the thirteen of them had been playing