Chapter 670: How are other things going?
The main hall of the newly formed Demon Dragon God guild’s headquarters still smelled of new wood mixed with construction dust. Despite the building’s imposing size—with thick columns and a freshly painted crest over the entrance—the truth was that everything there had been hastily erected, consuming practically all the group’s funds.
At the central table, carved from rustic oak and occupying the prominent seat reserved for the leader, sat Rogue. She leaned back in her chair, swinging one leg, her arms resting lazily on the armrests. Her eyes shone with mischief and satisfaction.
“I can’t believe it was so easy,” she laughed, slamming her hand against the table. “Creating a guild in the heart of Athenion… and so quickly! Those idiots in administration don’t even know what they’ve done.”
Beside her, sitting straighter and with a stern look on her face, Frieren sighed. The long, silver-haired mage held a list of expenses in her hand, her brow furrowed.
“Easy?” she repeated dryly. “Maybe. But the guild’s coffers are almost empty.” She held the paper up to Rogue. “Just renovating this building has already blown through half our reserves. And the other half went to making sure the roof wouldn’t collapse on our heads.”
Rogue waved her hand dismissively, as if swatting away a mosquito.
“Relax, Frieren,” she said with that dangerously confident smile. “The money will start flowing in soon. It’s only a matter of time before they realize we’re different.”
Frieren snorted, but didn’t press the issue. She knew Rogue well enough to know that arguing now was pointless.
At that moment, the double doors burst open with a bang, completely ignoring the atmosphere in the room. Daniela and Cassandra stormed in, kicking the wood back without a care.
“Don’t you guys know how to knock?” Frieren grumbled, already irritated.
Daniela, with her usual insolent look, didn’t even bother to respond. She threw a folded piece of paper on the table, right in front of Rogue.
“What’s this?” Rogue asked, arching an eyebrow, but without losing her amused tone.
“Learn to read,” Daniela retorted, crossing her arms arrogantly.
Cassandra, quieter, simply leaned against the wall, watching. Her eyes, however, were also fixed on Rogue, waiting for his reaction.
Rogue took the paper, unfolding it. As her eyes scanned the lines, a smile began to form. First small, then wide, until it became an expression of pure satisfaction.
“Heh… hehehehe… HAHAHA!” The laughter filled the room, echoing off the walls.
Frieren raised an eyebrow suspiciously. “What’s this?”
Rogue slammed the paper against the table, still laughing. “It’s our first official contract!” she declared. “An important merchant needs an escort.” Her eyes sparkled, as if she could already see the gold coins filling the guild’s coffers.
Daniela rolled her eyes. “It’s nothing major. Just a scared merchant who doesn’t want to lose his goods on the road.”
“Nothing major?” Rogue leaned forward, her gaze sharp and amused. “That’s what I’m talking about! Exactly! First job, first profit, first chance to show that the Demon Dragon God isn’t just a facade.”
Frieren sighed, but couldn’t help but let a faint smile escape her lips. “At least this solves our immediate problems…”
Cassandra, finally speaking, murmured, “Or it could drag us into even bigger trouble.”
But Rogue just laughed again, leaning back in her chair as if she owned the world. “Bigger problems mean bigger rewards.”
And so, the flame of the newborn guild’s first contract began to burn.
…
In the Filgram underground, the constant sound of hurried footsteps and urgent voices filled the air. The newly acquired facility teemed like an anthill, dozens of men and women carrying documents, carrying boxes, passing information from corridor to corridor.
Amidst the organized chaos, Yennifer and Cristine sat side by side on the stone curb, almost as if they were mere spectators to the frenzy. But they both knew: none of this would be happening without them.
Cristine let out a soft sigh, resting her elbows on her knees, before giving a lazy smile.
“In the end… killing all those former leaders was almost too easy,” she commented, her tone thick with contempt. “They talked as if they owned the world, but all it took was a well-placed spark for them to crumble.”
Yennifer turned to her, her eyes cold and her voice soft as a sharp blade.
“Arrogance. Pride. Depravity.” “They are the three things that weaken humans the most. Those men were so busy feeding their own vices that they didn’t realize how vulnerable they were.”
Cristine smiled wryly. “Not even their own soldiers respected them anymore.”
“Exactly,” Yennifer continued, adjusting the black glove on her right hand. “No one wanted them as leaders. We just gave them a push in the right direction. We offered better conditions, a fairer life, and doubled their pay. The rest… it took care of itself.”
The two women were silent for a few seconds, simply watching the incessant flow of workers. The feeling in the air was almost surreal: an empire rising before them, built on the ashes of the old order.
Cristine then stood up, with an almost theatrical movement, and spun on her heel. Her gaze fell on the end of the corridor lit by magical crystals, where a heavy iron door stood open.
Behind her, there was more than just a safe. An entire room was crammed with gold coins, piled high in mounds that reflected the light in a spectacle of golden shine. The air inside seemed heavier, heavy with the metallic scent and the promise of power.
Cristine took a few steps toward the safe, and a laugh escaped her lips.
“Look at this, Yennifer…” she said, with a broad gesture, as if displaying a trophy. “An entire fortune, once wasted on orgies and vices, is now ours.”
She stopped before the entrance, crossing her arms and tilting her head. A mischievous smile lit her face.
“Do you think… the husband will reward us for this?” she asked, her tone almost provocative.
The word “husband” left her lips with a mixture of pride and anticipation, leaving a tension in the air that only heightened the glow of triumph in her expression.
Yennifer didn’t answer immediately. He merely gave a faint, cold smile, his golden eyes reflecting the accumulated gold.
“If he doesn’t reward us…” he murmured, his tone enigmatic, “I’ll force him to reward us…”
Cristine laughed loudly, echoing through the underground, as if she could already taste the consolidated power.
A young subordinate, in a simple but neat uniform, appeared in the corridor carrying a sturdy leather briefcase. Her expression showed respect and a certain tension in the presence of Yennifer and Cristine. As she approached, she stopped a few steps away from them, bowed, and kept her eyes lowered.
“Ladies…” Her voice was firm, despite her nervousness. “I bring the reports you requested.”
She lifted the folder with both hands, offering it as if it were a sacred object.
Cristine narrowed her eyes, but an amused smile appeared on her lips. “Anyway…” she murmured, crossing her arms. “I thought it would take longer.”
Yennifer stood, walking calmly toward her subordinate. Her footsteps echoed on the stone floor, each one heavy as if carrying authority. She took the folder unhurriedly, without thanking her, simply opening it with a deliberate movement.
The silence stretched for a few moments, broken only by the dry sound of pages being turned. The scent of parchment and fresh ink escaped, mingling with the metallic aroma of the cluttered safe behind them.
Yennifer began reading softly, but loud enough for Cristine to hear:
“Reports on the current monarchs…” She raised an eyebrow, her eyes shining coldly. “It seems a monarch is heading to the Gathering of the Phoenixes and Dragons… the Tournament.”
Cristine gave a short, muffled laugh. “Isn’t that where her husband went?”
Yennifer nodded. “Along with Samira.”
The underling, still hunched over, dared to add: “Ladies… I’ve also compiled information on the nearby cities. Many of them are unstable. Rumors of mercenaries being hired en masse… minor guilds switching sides… and some nobles deserting their duties.”
Cristine clucked her tongue, satisfied. “As predicted. The fall of a rotten leadership always opens the way for delicious chaos.”
Yennifer closed the folder with a sharp snap and looked directly at her underling. His golden eyes shone with predatory intensity, making the young woman swallow hard.
“Good work,” he said in a low, almost gentle tone, but one that carried the menace of someone who never accepted failure. “Keep it up… and you can keep your head where you are.”
The underling trembled slightly, but immediately replied, “Yes, ma’am!” She bowed again and retreated, quickly disappearing into the illuminated corridors.
Cristine laughed, walking over to Yennifer and resting her chin on her shoulder in a relaxed, almost intimate manner.
“So, Sister…” she said, her eyes still fixed on the gold-overflowing coffer. “Do you want to start with the monarch… or the neighboring cities?”
Yennifer kept her gaze cool, gripping the briefcase firmly. “With the monarchs,” she replied without hesitation. “If we want this underground empire to last… we need to know exactly whose heads to cut off first.”