Watcher in the Shadows

Just as Jose and his servants were discussing the feasibility of developing animal husbandry in the mine, a sudden sound came from the corner.

Crack.

Jose turned to look at the thirteen lizard eggs placed in the corner. A crack had appeared on one of the shells.

"It's finally being born."

The tiny life inside slowly widened the crack until it broke a hole in the shell. The little lizard poked its head out, only to find two pairs of eyes staring at it. It hurriedly shrank back, hiding in the shell and peeking out in secret.

"Heh, it's shy. Sorda, go get some meat."

"Yes."

Before long, the Kobold servant brought over a small amount of minced meat, tore it into little pieces, and handed it to Jose.

Jose used the meat to lure the little lizard still hiding inside its shell. Lizards shared many similarities with dragons, whether in physical structure or biological habits, and newborn lizards could eat meat from the moment they hatched.

The little lizard was still afraid, but its stomach surrendered first.

It first poked its head out of the shell and sniffed the fresh meat dangling over its head. It swallowed it in one bite and immediately retreated again, squinting as its mouth worked laboriously to chew and swallow.

Jose picked up another shred of fresh meat and continued tempting it, like teasing a cat with a fish. He lured the young Petrification Lizard out of its shell and onto the open ground, then continued feeding it.

The remaining lizard eggs cracked open one after another, and little lizards crawled out. Seeing their kind eating with great delight, they needed no coaxing and scrambled over, leaving trails of clear egg white across the ground.

Jose watched the little lizards crowding together and fighting over food, a smile curling his lips.

Just as he had expected, the little lizards had hatched beside him and acquired a trace of a true dragon's aura. The clearest proof was the faint reddish tint along the edges of these young Petrification Lizards' blue-green scales.

Dragonkin tainted by a dragon's aura were naturally close to the source of their bloodline. Otherwise, newborn hatchlings would never have lowered their guard so easily, crawled out of their shells, and accepted food from him.

Unlike Jose, Sorda was in no such good mood. He was even somewhat troubled.

There were thirteen more hungry mouths that ate nothing but meat.

Though the hatchlings were still small, they would grow up eventually. Then there would be thirteen more big eaters.

He glanced at his master beside him, feeling somewhat guilty and unsure whether he should voice his difficulties.

After thinking it over, Sorda stopped worrying. Judging from what his master had done lately, the Bloodtooth Tribe had truly been blessed by the goddess of fortune. They had encountered an incomparably kind and benevolent dragon.

What Five-Colored Evil Dragon would care whether its servants had enough to eat? As long as it ate well, that was enough. At the slightest displeasure, using servants as snacks was a common occurrence.

"Esteemed Master, I have a concern."

"What are you concerned about?"

"The number of your pets... there are simply too many. I'm worried we won't be able to supply enough meat."

Jose turned to look at his servant. "First, I need to correct you: they are not pets. Like you, they are warriors. Second, don't worry about food. The problem will be solved before they grow up. Lastly, I'm hungry."

Sorda had been listening attentively. He froze at the last sentence, then quickly understood.

"I'll prepare food for you at once."

Not long afterward, a group of Kobolds came puffing and panting as they carried over ten huge pots steaming with heat. Jose smelled the aroma of stewed meat.

The pots of stew were placed in a row before Jose. These pots had been specially made by the Kobold servants for dragons, each three meters in diameter. Even for Jose, they were not small.

He lifted a lid and looked at the hodgepodge inside: chunks of meat, konjac, wood ear mushrooms, and plant tubers. Because of when they had been added, the tubers had already boiled to mush.

Honestly, Jose felt he could certainly cook better than the Kobold chefs himself, but as a lazy fellow... unless necessary, he had no desire to do it personally.

Hmph! What else were servants for?!

Jose calmly lifted one of the enormous pots, raised it over his head, and, unafraid of the heat, poured the steaming broth and food directly into his mouth.

Gurgle, gurgle.

Pot after pot, he soon ate until he was ninety percent full.

Ninety percent was enough.

The Kobolds carried the iron pots away again, leaving Jose alone in the cave. He lay on the ground and fell into thought.

There were far too many things that needed improving in the primitive Kobold tribe.

Take the iron pots used for the meal just now. Molten iron was poured into molds, then, after it solidified, the castings were hammered and polished into shape.

Because the process was so primitive, flaws such as air bubbles were common. On average, only one qualified iron pot could be cast for every three attempts.

Their weapons were also shaped in molds and then polished. Ironware cast this way easily chipped and cracked upon impact. It was sufficient against wild beasts and other primitive monster tribes, but if they encountered a regular human army...

Jose could already imagine the scene of Kobolds fighting a regular human army. Weapons collided, the iron weapons in the Kobolds' hands cracked apart, and then came a one-sided slaughter.

Fortunately, there was no need to worry about fighting a regular human army anytime soon. The matter of casting techniques could wait, but the issue of meat was truly urgent. Winter was coming.

Jose had already thought of a solution. On one hand, they would actively expand outward, annex other monster tribes, and enlarge their hunting grounds. On the other, they would establish an air force to improve scouting and hunting efficiency.

Of course, Kobolds could not fly. Jose had no way to acquire large birds of prey capable of flight, and the Bloodtooth Tribe could not afford to raise them anyway.

The air force Jose had chosen was another primitive monster race—the Harpy.

Harpies were common humanoid creatures on the Tydanore Continent. They had the bodies and faces of female elves, their arms replaced by feathered wings, while below their knees were withered eagle talons.

Because their arms were bird wings, Harpies could not make fire. Their eagle talons were also extremely limited in the tools they could make or use. Thus, Harpies had a very low level of civilization and lived like beasts, eating raw flesh and drinking blood.

Like many birds, they built their nests amid steep cliffs to avoid being ambushed by animals while sleeping.

During the migration, Jose had happened to see a Harpy nest, and it was not far from the Bloodtooth Kobold Tribe.

Under the night sky, a massive dragon shadow darted out of the forest and soared into the air, disappearing once it entered the clouds.

Far away, atop a mountain, within the dense branches of a great tree, a hidden shadow saw the dragon vanish into the clouds. It grabbed a nearby vine and slid down from the tree.

Within a deep tunnel, an aged Gnoll wearing a hood, hunched over and leaning on a staff, hurried forward. His pace was so swift that he seemed nothing like the feeble old creature he appeared to be.

Catching the faintly fishy-sweet scent ahead, the Gnoll Arcanist—Old Mosa—was invigorated. He quickened his pace and entered a nest filled with pale green poisonous gas.

Old Mosa saw the massive shadow lying at the center of the nest. Its emerald, diamond-shaped vertical pupils stared straight at him.

He stopped, straightened the clothes rumpled by his rapid walk, and bowed respectfully.

"Master, we have a new neighbor."