Chapter Eight: Pledging Loyalty to the Daughter of the Dragon

“What do you mean, Dragon’s Daughter? I can’t pretend to be one!” In the backyard of the mansion, Dia grabbed Rain’s arm in frustration, crying out, “I’ll be hanged and left to dry at the bottom of the Scale Temple!”

“Quiet.” Rain calmly reached out with his right hand and pinched her lips shut.

Dia, embarrassed and angry, slapped his hand away.

“Whether you are the Dragon’s Daughter or not isn’t really important,” Rain said calmly. “What matters is that, to the nobles of Dragon Valley City, even if you’re not truly the Dragon’s Daughter, you can be.”

“What do you mean by that?” Dia asked, puzzled, her large eyes gleaming with clarity.

“That answer will cost you two months of maid service,” Rain bargained.

“Hmph, I’ll figure it out myself,” Dia said, somewhat intimidated, showing a sulky expression.

The maid service contract had already lasted more than a year; if she kept asking, she might have to sell herself. Best to stop here.

In the backyard, she was massaging Rain’s shoulders, pounding his back, and rubbing his brow, while Argol Salichye, the city lord, sat in the front hall receiving visiting nobles of Dragon Valley City.

The Salichye family had ruled Dragon Valley City for centuries, but summoning all vassals at once was rare. Thus, the lizardfolk nobles wore serious expressions, aware that something significant was afoot.

Argol did not disappoint them. Once everyone had arrived, he briefly stated:

“The Faher family of the Human Empire recently escorted a human woman to my mansion, claiming she is the true Dragon’s Daughter.”

The lizardfolk nobles exchanged glances, and soon several could not hold back low chuckles.

Argol looked at them gently until they sensed the atmosphere had turned sour and sheepishly ceased laughing.

“Is this amusing?” Argol asked coldly. “Lord Bareron, may I ask what you find so funny?”

The named noble hurriedly defended himself.

“Lord Argol, I do not mock you. But the true Dragon’s Daughter is also the savior, who only appears at the end of days. The Faher family you mentioned probably does not understand our lizardfolk’s beliefs and culture, which is why this joke has arisen.”

“You are correct,” Argol replied calmly. “Whether she is truly the Dragon’s Daughter is a matter requiring careful consideration.”

“If she is not, then the Faher family has insulted our faith and must pay the price; but if she is, what shall we do?”

The lizardfolk nobles exchanged looks, gradually suppressing their earlier nonchalance and ridicule, falling into deep thought.

Lord Argol would not have gone through the trouble of summoning all his vassals over a mere fraud claiming to be the Dragon’s Daughter. Reversing the logic: since everyone was summoned here, the woman must truly be the Dragon’s Daughter.

If not, why else gather everyone?

Following this line of thought, the answer became clear.

In ancient times, lizardfolk were also called “Subdragons” because they believed themselves descendants of a diluted dragon bloodline—a so-called “subspecies” of dragons.

The Dragon’s Daughter, however, inherits the true dragon bloodline directly. Therefore, any lizardfolk who believe in the dragon ancestor naturally rally under the banner of the Dragon’s Daughter.

In other words, as long as the nobles can fully leverage the influence of the Dragon’s Daughter, they can naturally reclaim their voice from the shamans.

Whether she is truly the Dragon’s Daughter or not matters little; what counts is how many lizardfolk in Dragon Valley City believe she is genuine.

If enough believe, then she is the true Dragon’s Daughter.

“If she truly is the Dragon’s Daughter, we will, of course, swear loyalty to her,” the nobles, having grasped the key point, expressed their stance. “But if the shamans deny her identity, what then?”

“How could they deny it?” Argol retorted.

“For example, by insisting on a ritual to verify true dragon blood…”

“That would be an insult to the true Dragon’s Daughter!” Argol declared resolutely. “If the shamans want to use rituals to confirm your noble bloodlines, would you obediently comply?”

“That’s an insult!” The lizardfolk nobles bared their long lips, revealing sharp fangs. “The lineage of nobles is not to be rashly questioned or doubted by shamans!”

“Nor shall the true Dragon’s Daughter tolerate any offense!” Argol growled fiercely. “Anyone attempting to insult the true dragon bloodline will be the eternal enemy of the Salichye family! Whether shaman or Faher family!”

Even the dullest guests now understood Argol’s intent.

Recognize the Dragon’s Daughter, support her, eliminate any who question her identity, and ensure the title of Dragon’s Daughter is deeply rooted in Dragon Valley City... If any step fails, blame the Faher family, claiming that we were merely too devout in our faith and thus tricked by cunning humans.

It would be risky for any noble acting alone; after all, it means openly opposing the shaman faction.

But if all nobles band together, hiding behind the humans to cheer, even if they lose, they can claim collective innocence and push the humans forward to appease the shamans’ wrath.

With this in mind, the lizardfolk nobles voiced no further doubts and unanimously requested to meet the Dragon’s Daughter at once, kneeling to pledge their loyalty.

Seeing the nobles’ consensus, Argol applauded with satisfaction and instructed the steward to bring Rain and Dia out from the backyard.

As Dia entered the front hall, she saw the lizardfolk nobles competing with each other, one after another wildly performing.

Some covered their faces, weeping loudly, claiming to be overwhelmed by seeing the true dragon’s visage.

Some drew their swords and planted them into the ground, declaring themselves the Dragon’s Daughter’s blade, ready to clear any obstacles unto death.

Others knelt outright, tearing off scarves to wipe Dia’s shoes, humbly calling themselves “faithful servants of the Dragon’s Daughter,” making Dia feel utterly disgusted and forcing her to hide behind Rain.

By contrast, Rain’s social grace was clearly more mature.

He exchanged polite pleasantries with the lizardfolk nobles, speaking insincere compliments that neither side believed. Within a few words, he warmed to them, leaving Dia amazed and quietly impressed.

Argol raised his glass nearby, smiling as he watched.

He welcomed Rain’s efforts to win over the nobles, for they needed Rain as a shield to oppose the shamans’ fury.

Thus, Rain had to stand center stage, right beside the Dragon’s Daughter, while the nobles quietly played unnoticeable supporting roles behind.

Of course, the Dragon’s Daughter was but a young girl. If she wished to rule Dragon Valley City later, she would still rely on these lizardfolk nobles. A single human could never take their power away.

After Rain finished speaking with the nobles, Argol raised his glass and said:

“I propose a toast to the Dragon’s Daughter! May she live long!”

“May she live long!” the nobles echoed, raising their glasses.

Rain handed a goblet filled with honey wine to Dia, who fumbled to accept it, holding it with both hands as she clumsily thanked the lizardfolk nobles for their support and affection.

This communal act of raising a glass seemed like a religious initiation ritual, softening their gazes and making them more friendly and warm toward each other.

From now on, we are all part of the great ship called the Dragon’s Daughter!

Listening to the nobles’ ceaseless flattery, Dia suddenly felt an intense urge to loudly proclaim the coming of the White Walkers. As the Dragon’s Daughter, she wanted to demand immediate war mobilization from the nobles.

But Rain had warned her that even if they truly believed the White Walkers were coming, these nobles would only consider their own safety.

After an internal struggle lasting some time, Dia decided to trust Rain and suppressed her urge to warn the nobles.

The induction was over; what remained was eating, drinking, and building relationships.

In this Western fantasy world, nobles held most of the wealth, knowledge, and power, so cultivating good relations was paramount.

Even though Rain belonged to a different race and cultural differences were vast, when both sides earnestly sought friendship, communication gaps were no obstacle, and soon they became “inseparable friends” who shared everything.

Rain was chatting casually with several lizardfolk nobles when he suddenly heard someone say:

“…I’m really unlucky. My domain barely has any people, and yesterday several went missing.”

“Missing?” Rain looked toward the sighing noble.

“Yes,” the noble complained casually, not expecting Rain’s interest. “A few villagers went fishing downstream of the Saint’s River yesterday and didn’t return at night. They were probably eaten by forest anacondas.”

Dia’s face turned pale. Rain listened calmly and smiled:

“The anacondas must be in mating season. To reproduce and lay eggs, they consume a lot of prey to replenish nutrients. If I were you, I’d have the villagers retreat into Dragon Valley City to avoid losing more people.”

“That would be a huge loss for me,” the noble laughed. “If they come to the city, who will provide for their food and lodging? They won’t work or pay taxes. I might as well let them die!”

Dia’s heart instantly sank. Rain glanced at her meaningfully and smiled:

“That’s true enough.”