Chapter 290: Chapter 285: Smash the Glass as a Signal
Leon knew the location of the Erald Corridor only through the map.
Northeast of Watchtower Port, adjacent to a vast forest of the Talia Alliance, spanning perhaps hundreds of thousands of square kiloters—an area as large as half a province on Earth.
With such an expanse, even if Leon flew thousands or tens of thousands of ters into the sky to survey the land, unless Slankus noticed him and actively ca up to the sky, finding the nest wouldn’t be an easy task—especially if the nest was concealed with care. Even if it were a grand palace conspicuously erected in the open, locating it would still pose challenges.
But now, with Hinton as his guide—since the Green Dragon’s territory bordered the Erald Corridor and Slankus undoubtedly knew the area well—Leon quickly found Slankus’s lair.
The nest was colossal, occupying a terrain space equivalent to several municipal zones, surrounded by towering ancient trees and impenetrable vines, as though it had naturally grown from the forest itself.
Leon, following Hinton, descended near the center of the lair, standing before an ancient tree that rose over one hundred and nearly two hundred ters tall.
At a glance, the tree’s trunk—several dozen ters in diater—had been hollowed out and remodeled into a hall, unmistakably a place ant for Slankus in his human form.
The sprawling canopy spread over hundreds of ters, its tangled and twisted foliage forming a vaulted semi-oval structure—a grand edifice that could comfortably accommodate a dragon’s lounging. Nurous observation decks overlooked the forest, surveying the territory, monitoring potential threats. Such spots were undoubtedly where Slankus rested in his dragon form.
Upon closer inspection, the tree’s bark was coated with sticky, ink-green sap exuding a sweet yet corrupt stench. The ground where the roots pierced leaked murky green waters, mutating the nearby flora into thorned tentacles and carnivorous blossoms.
“This banyan tree once served as a sacred site for the Wood Elves. After Slankus seized it, he twisted it into its current state,” Hinton explained.
“Not bad to look at,” Leon remarked, glancing around. The aerial roots of the massive banyan tree hung to the ground like giant serpents, weaving into a network mid-air—forming natural sky corridors and traps. Due to his human soul, Leon couldn’t help but greedily imagine taking the tree back to the Volcanic Island.
He wondered if Cecilia had the ability to grow such a magnificent tree. Imagining how she currently contented herself with digging hollows beneath trees to build nests around roots gave him so doubt.
“Who are you?” Two towering half-green dragon guards brandished spears. Fearless of the Red Dragon and Green Dragon, they declared: “Do you not know this is the residence of Lord Slankus?”
Leon scrutinized the two half-green dragon guards, contemplating the half-dragon template applied to beasts, humanoids, giants, or monsters.
When a creature becos a half-dragon, it retains all its original attributes while gaining blindsight, Dark Vision, damage resistance tied to its scale color, Dragon Language, and breath weapons.
Leon had co to make trouble; he didn’t mind humiliating Slankus by beating his subordinates. He spread his wings, rising to a height of over ten ters. A single claw swipe sent one half-green dragon guard flying as he said, “I most hate people pointing weapons at .”
“Alarm! Enemy attack!” The fallen half-green dragon guard shouted, “Sound the horn!”
The other guard started pulling out a massive horn, about to blow it only to find vines sprouting all over the horn, adorned with bright blossoms, preventing him from using the horn.
“These are Lord Slankus’s honored guests! You’ve offended them—aren’t you going to retreat?!” An Elf Druid erged, clearly responsible for the minor spell that stopped the guard.
“That’s the corrupted Elf Druid enslaved by Slankus,” Hinton remarked.
The Elf Druid transford into a bird, landing before Leon, then reverted to human form to bow slightly: “I am the steward of Lord Slankus, sent to await your arrival. He’s been expecting you for quite so ti.”
Leon snorted, saying, “Playing the pretentious host. Who does he think he is, wanting to seek him out? Tell him to co et himself, or I’ll burn everything here to ashes.”
As Leon’s words fell, the atmosphere instantly grew tense, until a man erged from within the hollowed-out tree trunk.
The man had the sharp features of a middle-aged noble, with green-scaled patterns at the corners of his eyes, murky dark green pupils, and wore a deep-green velvet robe pinned at the collar with an obsidian leaf-shaped brooch. “Leon, it’s an honor to finally et you,” he said.
His voice was deep, like an eerie river in the woods, each sentence’s end tinged with a faint hissing sound—resembling a snake.
“You’re Slankus?” Leon asked.
“As you see,” Slankus replied with impeccable politeness.
“You know why I’m here.” Leon, uninterested in formalities, skipped straight to the point.
“I’d like to hear it,” Slankus said.
“Submit or die,” Leon declared, locking his eyes onto Slankus’s. “Choose one.”
“If death ans us mustering forces and going to battle?” Slankus queried.
“I hear Leon is extraordinarily powerful—a fully mature Red Dragon wouldn’t stand a chance. One dragon pillaged Moon Bay from pirates and even razed an Ancient Fallen Empire pyramid. Many of its relics now flood Talia Alliance’s markets.”
“Three Red Dragons, one Blue Dragon, one Green Dragon, and a bronze dragon—all joining forces against —I admit defeat would be likely,” Slankus continued. “Under such circumstances, I am willing to submit.”
“Surely His Majesty would be pleased to see a strong Giant Dragon Lord, a rising Dragon Country, spreading terror and influence across the Material Plane,” Slankus mused with a smile.
“I’ve heard you’re her priest? Willing to submit to —not intending to proselytize for her, are you?” Leon sneered, baring his teeth. “I’ll tell you now—I have no interest in spreading terror and influence for her in the Material Plane.”
“Lost children always return to their mother’s embrace, don’t they?” Slankus remarked.
Leon furrowed his brow, impatiently saying, “Don’t spew nonsense—choose submission or death. That’s it!”
“I choose submission,” Slankus replied. “But I’d like to know: if I submit, what treatnt can I expect?”
“What do you an by that?” Leon looked visibly annoyed.
“I’ve prepared a banquet; we can discuss these matters over food,” Slankus offered. “How does that sound to you, Leon?”
Leon considered for a mont, recalling how accustod he was to settling matters at the dinner table. “Alright then,” he conceded.
Slankus exchanged a glance with the Elf Druid, who promptly understood and retreated, leaving Leon to follow.
Leon shifted to human form, noticing Hinton also transforming—a young man of delicate and somber deanor—as they headed toward a pavilion nestled among erald shadows, where wine, at, pastries, and fine liquor had already been prepared.
Each took their seat.
“I am willing to submit, Leon,” Slankus began.
“I just want to understand—how exactly does Lord Leon wish for to submit?”
Savoring the wine, Slankus continued, “Would Lord Leon want my territory? Or shall I continue ruling it, rely sending tribute each month—how much Gold Coin would you require monthly? Could resources replace currency? What of my army—how would Lord Leon prefer to handle them?”
Slankus added, “If I must cede all territory, who does Lord Leon plan to appoint to govern here? Besides a Green Dragon, I doubt Red, Blue, or bronze dragons would effectively manage it. Furthermore, how does Lord Leon plan to arrange my future role—as a commander or a civil official?”
Slankus fired off over a dozen inquiries in one sitting.
“I need ti to think,” Leon muttered irritably, regretting not bringing Cecilia. “Or do you have suggestions yourself?”
“As for suggestions…” Slankus took a sip. “I’ve heard of Lady lting Roar Anglistra, your mother… With how charismatic Lord Leon is, she must still have her allure intact. Why not marry her to ? That way, Lord Leon being my son fits naturally—you could govern my territory seamlessly.”
Leon’s expression darkened in response: “It seems you’ve chosen death.”
“No, you seem the one courting death, barging into my domain with such arrogance!” Slankus roared, abandoning his polite façade and revealing his true self.
Indeed, when manipulating other creatures, the Green Dragon could be eloquent and sophisticated, yet among peers, he showed off with brash audacity.
“Your days are numbered!” Slankus sneered, spinning his wine glass before suddenly smashing it onto the ground, his deanor shifting drastically.
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