Aurina looked utterly serious.
Both her small hands worked together, left and right, vigorously rubbing Richard’s short hair.
Richard’s green eyes looked upward.
The white-bearded man laughed first: “Hahaha.”
Everyone burst into laughter together, finding Aurina utterly innocent and pure.
One guild master teased: “Esteemed wise dragon, could you share a bit of your wisdom with me?”
Aurina didn’t even glance at him, burying her head in rubbing Richard’s scalp diligently, as if truly trying to knead some invisible, sticky wisdom into Richard’s brain: “Pack beast’s skull is so hard. So much wisdom can’t be rubbed in. If you want a share, take it—it’s wasted anyway.”
“Hahaha…”
The atmosphere instantly became cheerful.
Even the Grand Master beside them—who had been frowning all along (especially seeing Richard carrying Aurina on his back)—relaxed his brows and showed a smile on his face.
The final meeting ended on a relatively pleasant note.
The guild representatives returned to their carriages, still chatting and laughing.
“What a cute dragon.”
“Not like the Dread Dragon at all.”
“I’m sure the dragon-slaying warrior will understand.”
Another person said: “Only innocent children talk about right and wrong. He’s an adult—though he doesn’t look much older than my son—he must understand the world isn’t black and white. He can’t be less sensible than a child, right? By the way, Alufe, are you still calculating your accounts?”
Some people loved eating or smoking, some liked shaking their legs when idle, but Alufe of the Feather Society was an old scribe and veteran accountant.
He was extremely sharp with numbers.
It was said that once, when the Harbor Guild’s ledgers were falsified but couldn’t be detected, they invited Alufe over.
This old accountant, wearing expensive glass spectacles, merely flipped through the ledger—thick as three bricks.
With a point of his finger, he pinpointed the irregularity.
He took great pride in this and liked flipping through his notebook in his spare time.
It was filled with tiny numbers and irregular calculation symbols—glancing at it a few times would make anyone sleepy—but he calculated with great relish.
Now, this old accountant named Alufe raised his face.
Looking at everyone in confusion, he said: “What is twenty-one plus seven?”
“Alufe, are you joking?”
Alufe said: “I’m serious.”
“Twenty-eight.”
The white-bearded man said: “It seems so, though I’m not sure.”
“Why ‘seems’? Are you all conspiring to prank me?”
The white-bearded man said: “No, if I were joking, may the Deep Sea Queen drown me.”
Yet the gray-haired old accountant Alufe fell into thought: “How is that possible? Why would it be greater than twenty-one? Why, why.”
Someone suddenly felt a chill down their back.
He abruptly remembered that the old accountant had been closest to Richard, the white-bearded man a bit farther, and he himself had arranged to sit by the door—farthest from that dragon called Aurina.
He said: “Could it be that the dragon’s wisdom really was shared with you?”
“Hahaha.”
Someone laughed: “She’s just a little girl. Do you really think she can share wisdom with people?”
He thought about it—Aurina’s cute face—how could she have such ability?
Then he said: “I must have been out of my mind today.”
It took many days afterward for the old accountant to finally calculate numbers above twenty-one without hindrance.
As for the holy warriors.
After discussions and communication with the emperor, they agreed to attend the banquet.
Immediately, the emperor lifted the curfew.
All levels of society in the imperial capital breathed a sigh of relief, feeling things were developing in a good direction.
The Emperor of the Yanting Empire also compromised on the banquet location.
The venue changed from a manor outside the capital to inside the city—at the mansion of a relatively neutral noble.
The couple had close ties with the church.
The lady even held a nominal position in a good god’s church.
Because after deliberation among the holy warriors, they believed that at a manor banquet in the suburbs, the Emperor of the Yanting Empire could exploit military advantages.
According to the order’s historical records, during the Magdeburg civilian rescue operation, of the twenty-four high-rank knights who participated, the heaviest casualties occurred outside the city—after being surrounded by troops, they suffered continuous losses.
Twenty perished, not one survived.
In the city, however, it was where these human elites could shine.
The banquet proceeded as scheduled, and the holy warriors did not dare relax.
When Richard attended, he only surrendered his weapons but still wore plate armor—as did the others.
Fortunately, this did not violate etiquette.
In the Yanting Empire with its martial culture, wearing armor at a banquet was a silent way to boast of martial virtue.
Aurina had always been utterly uninterested in little insect rituals, but she was very invested in this banquet.
Before departing, she sat obediently in her chair, listening to Richard recite the ten basic banquet etiquettes, such as:
“Do not stand, lie, run, or jump on the table.”
“Also, do not ride on Richard’s body while eating.”
“You can only eat the food on the table in front of you. At that time, Richard will draw two red lines—you can only eat the food between those two red lines…”
After listening, she even signed her name on it—so obedient it didn’t seem like Aurina at all.
Richard was very satisfied.
The only slight dissatisfaction was that after teaching Aurina writing for so long, her signature was still a drawing.
Yes, Aurina disliked human script—her signature was a simple sketch.
It depicted a chubby dragon head, breathing fire from its mouth.
But this obedience gradually faded after she took her seat and looked around curiously.
She kicked Richard’s leg with her white-silk-clad small leg and asked: “Where’s the unicorn white female? Where did she go?”
Richard was holding his wine, toasting the emperor not far away.
Only after sitting down did he whisper: “She didn’t come to the banquet, right?”
“Didn’t come?”
Aurina’s obedience visibly began to fade: “Then let’s start robbing.”
With that, she pointed her finger at the emperor seated high above.
The emperor sat higher than anyone, flanked by more than ten loyal Varangian Guards—all in heavy armor, bearing weapons.
The Red Dragon-Tattooed Chieftain was right beside the emperor, protecting him.
In the entire hall, only he and his guards were allowed to carry weapons.
Richard pressed down Aurina’s finger: “We came to reconcile, not to burn, kill, and plunder.”
Aurina sniffed: “But there’s a smell of blood here.”
Sophia looked left and right, saying from the side: “But there’s no blood sausage at the banquet.”
Richard said: “She probably means danger lurking everywhere.”
Sophia said: “Indeed, I can envision swords and blood.”
There were simply too many nobles on the emperor’s side—they were not incompetent.
Without exceptional martial prowess, one could hardly become a noble.
Richard asked: “Can it be avoided?”
Sophia said: “Dear, I’m not a prophet.”