And finally, the decision was made. With the little money and resources they had, they agreed to extract as much gold, iron, and silver as they possibly could.
Deep in the towering, jagged mountains of Dermvok know as the house of dragon , a range covered in mist and shadow that looked like ancient stone dragons sleeping beneath the clouds, it was estimated that vast amounts of gold were hidden within. The mountain had a mysterious glow around its peaks, and the locals always whispered tales about its magical core.
A group of common folk volunteered to work in the mines. They were given sturdy protective suits, leather gloves, helmets with glowing torches, and iron pickaxes. Without hesitation, they began digging. The sound of metal clinking against stone echoed through the caverns as they chipped away—digging, digging, and digging…
Meanwhile, back at the castle, Tryon was planning for the future. As the Father of Dragons, there was no way he could settle for surviving in a small, forgotten kingdom. He needed to reclaim the ancient borders of his homeland—those that once stretched far beyond the current map.
Elnora came up behind Tryon, gently reached out for his hand, and sat down on his lap.
"Don't worry about all this stuff, my love. Everything's gonna be fine," she whispered softly.
Tryon smiled and kissed her forehead before returning to his maps and scrolls.
But Elnora's face changed. She looked troubled as she asked, "Have you heard anything from my father? He hasn't replied to any of my letters…"
"No, my lady," Tryon replied gently. "There's been no word."
Elnora was stunning—about 175 cm tall, with skin paler than fresh snow, icy blue eyes, and long flowing golden hair that shimmered in the light. But her beauty wasn't what made her special.
She had a deep passion for medicine and healing, though her royal status as queen often stopped her from pursuing it seriously. She was also incredibly artistic—every finger of hers could produce magic. She played the piano with delicate perfection, and she loved cooking and baking sweets. Yet again, because of her duties as queen, she was rarely allowed to do the things she loved. Still, her affection for children made her beloved throughout the palace.
Outside, thick clouds gathered and the wind howled—there was a heavy rainstorm on the way.
Inside the grand hall, the key figures of the castle were sitting together, sharing food and drink, asking each other questions and laughing.
"Let's say Syroc shows up and tries to destroy everything… and even kill you. What would you do, my lord?" Pepper asked Tryon with a grin.
Tryon smirked and answered, "I'd tell the God of Death, 'Not today.'"
Laughter filled the room.
At that moment, Klyne, the man in charge of the mines, entered the hall, soaked in sweat but beaming with excitement.
"My lord! We've extracted around 4 kilos of gold so far!!!" he shouted with joy.
Klyne, a tall man—about 180 cm—with a muscular build, jet-black hair, deep dark eyes, and pale skin, was not only strong but also a brilliant chemist. He loved science, especially chemistry, and had an incredibly kind nature. People trusted him completely.
But Klyne's past was filled with pain. His own family had hurt him deeply. From a young age, he was abused and emotionally broken. He ran away as a child, learned to survive on his own, and educated himself using discarded books about princes and princesses. He never had the chance to attend proper school.
"Seriously?!" Tryon was stunned.
No one could believe they had found that much gold in such a short time.
"I did the math myself! By the end of the night, we could find another 10 kilos easily!" Klyne said, his eyes sparkling.
Everyone was thrilled. With this kind of treasure, they could keep expanding the mines, build more ships, strengthen their army, and buy new weapons.
Sometimes, all you need to do is push a little harder—without sacrificing your pride. The rewards might be greater than you imagine.
By nightfall, they had already discovered around 15 kilograms of gold from just a small section of the mine.
"Don't let this news leave the walls of this castle. Not even our own people should know about it," Tryon said firmly to the miners and the others.
Lian, one of Tryon's old friends and the kingdom's chief financial officer, along with Tryon's advisors, had decided that all the profits would be reinvested into more mining.
Far away, in the distant realm of Velmoria, King James approached Syroc with tension in his voice.
"Syroc! When I heard what happened, I got seriously worried! Why didn't you respond to my letters?! I told you not to do this!"
King James was the ruler of Velmoria. He respected the rule of Sylmira and was always considered a loyal ally.
But James was a boring man, with a short temper and little patience—completely different from his daughter, who was curious and vibrant. James had no real talent—no sword skills, no archery, no horse riding—nothing. The only reason he was king was because his uncle had no sons.
"I need to ruin that bastard Tryon… I want history to remember what I do to him," Syroc said, his voice full of pain and determination.
"What if we take someone he loves the most… and kill them?" James said with a crooked smile.
"What do you mean?" Syroc's eyes lit up with interest.
James leaned in and whispered his plan.
"Maybe I'll tell my daughter—Elnora—to get pregnant. And then… we kill her."
"You wanna kill your own daughter?" Syroc was stunned.
If he's willing to kill his own daughter… killing me will be a walk in the park, Syroc thought silently.
"You're joking… right?" Syroc asked again, just to be sure.
"I'm not joking. Why would I joke about this?" James replied coldly.
Syroc didn't fully trust him, but his hatred for Tryon pushed him toward saying yes.
"All I need to do is write a sweet letter to my stupid daughter. Then, once she's pregnant, we go to Tryon and say: 'Either give us the dragon… or we kill your wife,'" James said.
"Are you insane?! Do you have any idea how big Tryon's dragon will be by the time she gives birth?! That's nine months!! Are you even thinking when you talk?! You're such an idiot!!" Syroc snapped.
Syroc still wanted to make Tryon pay, but James' childish plans were too ridiculous. So he rejected the idea and sank back into thought.
Meanwhile, back in Drakholme, Klyne was still calculating how much more gold they could extract by tomorrow.
More gold meant more ships, a stronger army, and most importantly—they could deposit it in the central bank to boost the national currency's value. Maybe… just maybe… they could earn a seat in the Council of Dravonthar.
Klyne was so excited for tomorrow that he couldn't sleep.
And neither could Tryon.
Each passing day, they were becoming a stronger rival to the other kingdoms across the continent of Dravonthar.
According to Kaben's estimates, if they started early in the morning, they could dig up to 173 kilograms of gold by nightfall.
And once again, the night in Drakholme was filled with the deep growl of Dravakus echoing through the dark forests, the croaking of frogs, the chirping of strange insects, the soft thuds of raindrops falling gently onto the leaves…
…and the strange sounds coming from Tryon and Elnora's room.
Every kingdom had only three months left until winter arrived.
And winter… could be the end for some of them—especially for those who didn't prepare during spring and summer.
Something Syroc had completely ignored since becoming king…
All he cared about were flashy, useless festivals… failed deals… empty noise.
But the cold wind of winter was coming, and it would demand a price.