"This is an unsanctioned operation, not officially recognized by the High Elf authorities," Hiatt answered succinctly.
And after Hiatt’s analysis of the High Elves, from their darkest histories down to their rotten-to-the-core governance, David finally understood: If the High Elves actually ransod them back, it would be tantamount to implicitly admitting the legitimacy of this military operation. If this military operation were legitimate, wouldn’t that an acknowledging that they, the High Elves, had brazenly invaded the territory of the Crimson Calamity Pafila? Wouldn’t this just give that lunatic Red Dragon an excuse to seek vengeance?
No Elf dared to let the Crimson Calamity of eight years ago reoccur. This was especially true since this Calamity could directly reach their holand of Dewensen... By then, it might not be called Crimson Calamity anymore. It could be ’Scorched Earth,’ ’Elves’ Tears,’ or ’Defending Dewensen.’
No one could bear a cri that would have their ancestors dug up and flogged repeatedly for a hundred and eighty generations. With no one daring to take responsibility, naturally, no one dared to claim these Elf prisoners of war, let alone prepare any ransom. At this very mont, the families of these High Elves had probably already been notified to go to the rear entrance of the logistics departnt, queuing up tearfully to receive compensation for training exercise accidents and signing non-disclosure agreents...
"...What the fuck!"
Upon learning the full story, David imdiately felt an utterly damned frustration. This kind of expected loss made him feel as if he were playing a strategy ga. He’d excitedly started a second mining base in the early stages, only to miss killing a single creep due to managing two things at once. Before he knew it, that creep had blown up the expansion base he’d just established.
"Then what the hell is the use in keeping you?!! Who’s going to answer ?" David’s roar, filled with Wrath, made all the High Elves tremble. They feared the enraged Red Dragon’s next words would be a tyrant’s decree: ’Let them dig a pit and bury themselves.’
Fortunately, David was becoming increasingly adept at controlling his emotions, especially anger. Since Wrath had its benefits, and could transform him into a ’combined weakening Taunt and crowd control’ at critical monts, David now mostly allowed his inner rage to vent freely. He would gain the Wrath status and then return to normal, just like now. But no one knew these reasons except for himself. A Red Dragon whose temper was unpredictable, whose mood swings were faster than flipping through a book, instilled even greater fear in the High Elves.
One Elf, unable to bear this repeated ntal tornt, imdiately knelt and begged, "I can sing, dance, and I’m proficient in thirty-six musical instrunts..."
David, a brute among Dragons, scoffed at these ’arts.’ But seeing as this one was the first to surrender, he moved his claw and instructed Hiatt at his side, "Take this one into custody first, and treat it according to how you Drow treat Elf prisoners of war."
No sooner had David spoken than a deathly silence fell. The High Elf who had just surrendered looked utterly despondent and imdiately slamd his head against the ground, as if trying to drown himself in the sand. However, he was pulled out by Hiatt. The disheveled Elf spat out a mouthful of sand and uttered a phrase Yevgeny had been saying often lately: "Just kill !"
"What’s wrong? How do you Drow usually treat High Elf prisoners of war?" David asked, perplexed.
"Um... We usually take them for breeding," Hiatt responded.
"..." David was speechless.
Hiatt, however, did not show the slightest schadenfreude. Instead, she looked with a hint of sympathy at Kraidian, who was pressing his lips together silently, and explained, "After all, we Drow have very few males and usually rely on external sources to supplent our numbers. Even if that ans Dragons." Of course, she didn’t dare say that last part aloud in front of her master, who was also a Dragon.
David rubbed his aching head and said offhandedly, "Then change it to how you High Elves treat Drow prisoners."
The silence persisted.
"Now what?" David was a little exasperated. Could it be that the High Elves had so troubleso customs too?
Just then, the High Elf representative, Yevgeny, stated expressionlessly, "Due to eternal hatred, and because Drow are innately cunning, we usually either execute them on the spot after interrogation or throw them into the sea to feed the fish."
"...You long-eared folk are really sothing else, managing not to go extinct after all these years." David couldn’t help but marvel. Comparing the prisoner treatnt of both sides, he was stunned: One side breeds them, the other slaughters them—it’s a perverse kind of population balance, can you believe it?
Unable to stand the long-eared races’ drama of vendettas and grudges any longer, David flicked his tail in annoyance and said, "You lot continue with the surrender processing. Once you’re done, take them to the seashore. First, salvage anything valuable from the wreckage for , then find a high spot and build a nest."
Hiatt imdiately understood. She then asked, "What about the rest?"
The rest, of course, were the die-hards who refused to surrender. Bury them all? David thought for a mont but then retracted the order, which was both overly brutal and sowhat wasteful of elves. He imdiately changed his mind, "Take them all to the Katjana Plains to dig potatoes."
This declaration was more effective than any threat. Hiatt hadn’t even had ti to acknowledge the order when about half the High Elf prisoners, who had previously held their heads high in a show of noble sacrifice, imdiately lost their nerve. They scrambled to shout:
"I surrender! I surrender!"
"I’ll do anything, just don’t send to the Katjana Plains, I beg you!"
"Just give the sa treatnt as human prisoners of war!"
High Elves generally live longer than humans. With longer lives usually cos greater wisdom, or at least, they aren’t usually shortsighted. They knew what kind of climate the Katjana Plains had; even though it was already spring, temperatures still plumted below minus forty degrees Celsius, literally freezing water solid. And were they being taken there just to dig potatoes? Unlikely. Their fate would probably include mining, logging, and other forms of heavy labor, not to ntion what brutal treatnt devoid of any elven decency they might face. Under such harsh conditions, most of them would likely die from the double tornt of hunger and cold within a few years. Even if they survived, under the supervision of the Drow and the collaborators, their lives would be worse than death.
David nodded, satisfied with the effect, and prepared to leave. The expected loss of the elf ransom still pained him. He needed to eat sothing to calm down.
"Master, wait!" Hiatt, seeming to notice David’s preoccupation, hurriedly called out to him.
"What is it now?" David sounded sowhat irritated.
"Master, you actually have another portion of spoils that might compensate for your loss," Hiatt said gravely.
Oh? David couldn’t imdiately recall what other spoils he might have.
Hiatt said with a look of ’admiration,’ "Yes, just as Master suspected, you have a shipload of spoils buried not far from the harbor, at the bottom of the sea."
David was baffled at first, then he finally rembered sothing and smacked his lips, "Your wrecked ship?" He finally recalled the Drow ship he’d sunk with a fart five years ago, right after he hatched. But it’s been soaking in saltwater at the bottom of the sea for five years; what could possibly be left?
"Correct. It’s precisely that batch of Dragon Eggs we collected," Hiatt provided the answer. It was the assortnt of Dragon Eggs that she and her group of Drow had risked their lives collecting on the Old Continent for three whole years.
"..." David’s mouth slowly, uncontrollably, fell open wider and wider, eventually freezing into a devilish grin.
Dragon Eggs? Marvelous~~~~~~.
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