Saving Azeroth (By Stealing the Black Dragon Princess) - 20

Chapter 20: Goblins Enter the Game

Deep within Onyxia's lair, the massive excavated pit had extended downward three full layers.

Dragon claws scraped across rock walls, obsidian-like talons easily peeling away loose rubble. She stood at the pit's bottom, craning her neck to look upward—above her towered carefully stacked sacks, bags of ammonium nitrate arranged neatly on specially manufactured moisture-proof shelves, filling nearly half the lair's available space. Five hundred tons. That number circled endlessly in her mind. Five hundred tons of ammonium nitrate, sufficient to send every stone of Grim Batol flying into the sky in glorious destruction.

Her claws lightly brushed sack surfaces, sulfur and saltpeter scents lingering tantalizingly at her nostrils. Once upon a time, her lair had been filled with gold coins, precious gems, and spoils of war. But now... fertilizer dominated the space.

Deren claimed these could all be exchanged for gold coins.

She believed him implicitly.

As her lips unconsciously curved upward, Onyxia suddenly narrowed her eyes with calculating focus. Ordinary rock structures could not withstand such massive explosion impacts—the force would scatter uselessly rather than directing properly. She took a deep breath, dragon eyes igniting with dark red firelight that cast dancing shadows.

BOOM!

Black flame erupted from her mouth, precisely sweeping over the pit's four walls. Rock instantly melted under extreme heat, then rapidly cooled, forming smooth mirror-like crystallized surfaces. This newly forged rock wall was several times harder than before, sufficient to completely direct the explosion's devastating force toward preset directions.

Still not enough...

She swayed her dragon tail thoughtfully, slowly pacing along the pit's edge. Each breath produced tiny sparks that floated like fireflies, each footstep causing the ground beneath to redden slightly with residual heat. This was the black dragons' unique lava-forging technique, usually reserved only for reinforcing their lair's most critical core areas.

After the final wall section was also remelted and reinforced to her satisfaction, Onyxia transformed back to her elegant elf form, fingertips lightly tapping the crystallized wall. Clear echoes reverberated through the pit like death's countdown.

"Father..." She murmured quietly, nails leaving a charred mark on the wall. "You taught us that power is everything."

In her reflection on the glassy wall, a fierce smile dominated her features.

"Now, let me use the human way to teach you a lesson you will never forget."

Inside a temporal rift that existed outside normal space, Chromie curled miserably atop a pile of gold coins, clutching her beloved Caverns of Time Annual Financial Report against her chest.

"Thirty thousand gold for sulfur... ten thousand gold for dwarf deposit... twenty thousand gold for bribing goblin customs..." With each number she recited aloud, more tears welled in her large golden eyes. "My money... my precious money..."

She grabbed an ancient elven gold coin, biting down hard—her old habit for authentication. Result: crack—a dragon tooth flew off, tracing a shining parabola through the temporal rift before vanishing into probability streams.

"Waaah—" Chromie finally broke down completely, rolling dramatically on a pile of ledgers. "Deren, that big liar! Said something about investing in the future... the future is just a money-eating beast!"

She tearfully opened the latest expenditure page with trembling fingers:

"Dragon-Breath-Resistant Reactor Custom Fee": 8,000 gold coins

"Goblin Express Expedited Delivery Fee": 3,500 gold coins

"Compensation for Dragonspawn Traumatized by Ammonia Fumes": 1,200 gold coins

"Even dragonspawn get trauma compensation?!" Chromie was so enraged her pigtails stood up like antennae. "They were the ones huffing sulfur for recreational purposes!"

Suddenly, she noticed a small note scrawled at the ledger's edge:

"Reserve Fund: Purchase Onyxia New Necklace (Budget Unlimited)"

The silence that followed was deafening.

An earth-shattering dragon roar echoed through the temporal rift. Nearby time streams were scared into twisting for a full second before realigning.

"I AM GOING TO KILL THAT LOVESICK HUMAN!!" Chromie transformed back to full bronze dragon form, rampaging through the temporal rift, knocking over three gold mountains and five gem piles. "He actually used MY money to buy a BLACK DRAGON a necklace?!"

After venting her rage thoroughly, she collapsed sobbing on scattered antiques. "That was the necklace design I personally acquired from Suramar ten thousand years ago... I was planning to make it for myself after the treasury recovered..."

Theramore harbor's sea wind carried briny scents mixed with fish and tar. Chromie floated listlessly beside a goblin cargo ship, her small ledger rustling as she flipped pages with obvious reluctance. Each turn deepened the resentment etched on her face.

"More sulfur? Saltpeter? Or damned aluminum powder?" She muttered darkly, large golden eyes fixed on goblin laborers unloading cargo. "Keep this up and I will have to rob Dalaran's treasury..."

Just then, a shrill voice erupted from the deck—

"Miss Milo! Dear Miss Milo!"

Chromie looked up to see Baron Revilgaz rushing down the gangway on short legs with surprising speed. The goblin merchant was particularly dapper today: gold-rimmed monocle polished to blinding gleam, silk vest pinned with a diamond brooch, and even boots gilded with real gold leaf. His smile was so brilliant it could blind, waving a gold-embossed contract like a victory banner.

Chromie's draconic instincts immediately sounded alarms—the sweeter the goblins smiled, the harder they typically swindled.

"Baron Revilgaz?" She warily retreated half a step. "Why did you come personally?"

"A miracle! Simply a business miracle!" The goblin baron gestured excitedly, nearly stepping into the sea. "Your company's potassium fertilizer—absolutely amazing! My test fields increased crop yields by nearly half!"

Chromie froze completely. "What potassium fertilizer?"

"The sample you sent to Booty Bay last month!" Revilgaz pulled out a handful of wheat grains reverently. "Look at this quality! Look at this golden color! The Steamwheedle Cartel is willing to pay premium prices for exclusive distribution rights!"

Chromie's eyes gradually widened with dawning comprehension. She carefully accepted the wheat grains, fingertips brushing the heavy, robust kernels. As a bronze dragon who had witnessed ten thousand years of agriculture, she could sense this crop was indeed dramatically superior to normal yields.

"This..." Her brain raced at supernatural speed, draconic commercial instincts instantly awakening. "Our potassium fertilizer production capacity is currently quite... limited..."

"However much you have, I will buy it ALL!" Revilgaz immediately interjected, gold teeth flashing. "Fifty percent deposit upfront!"

Chromie's pupils instantly transformed into literal gold coin shapes.

In the distance, Jaina's figure appeared at the dock's end. She had only been routinely inspecting the harbor, yet was drawn by the unusual commotion. Seeing the goblin baron bowing and scraping to a "gnome financial officer," her eyebrow arched with interest.

"Seems," she whispered, staff spinning a beautiful arc in her palm, "I need to personally visit that swamp again."

Inside Theramore's conference hall, sunlight filtered through stained glass windows, casting mottled rainbow shadows across the oak table. Deren leaned back in his chair with affected casualness, fingertips lightly tapping a contract draft, lips bearing a faint smile.

"Four gold coins per ton." He said casually, as if merely discussing the weather.

Baron Revilgaz's gold teeth flashed sharply. "How much?"

"Four gold coins wholesale price." Deren opened the ledger, pushing it before him. "Considering transport costs and market premiums, very fair pricing."

Jaina's eyebrow arched slightly. As Theramore's ruler, she understood too well what this number meant—ordinary fertilizer in the Eastern Kingdoms cost only about five gold coins per ton.

The goblin's Adam's apple bobbed twice, small eyes gleaming with shrewd calculation. "Mr. Deren, this price is somewhat..."

"Too expensive?" Deren closed the ledger. "You are welcome to cooperate with the Bilgewater Cartel instead. Heard they are also developing new fertilizers recently..."

"No no no!" Revilgaz immediately plastered on his most ingratiating smile. "I mean, it is too excellent a deal!" He pulled out a handkerchief to wipe his sweating forehead. "The Steamwheedle Cartel is willing to prepay for two hundred tons!"

Jaina's fingertips lightly tapped the table. "Theramore takes ten percent harbor tax."

"Three percent." Deren smiled.

"Eight percent."

"Five percent includes transport from swamp to harbor."

"Deal."

When Revilgaz tremblingly signed his name with flourish, Deren's peripheral vision caught Chromie hiding behind the door crack, large golden eyes already transformed into literal gold coin shapes.

Attendants carried in a heavy ironbound treasure chest. The crisp sound of colliding coins silenced the entire room. The moment Revilgaz opened the chest dramatically—

CLANG!

Eight hundred gold coins gleamed brilliantly, piling into a small glittering mountain on the table. Chromie finally could not restrain herself, rushing in with supernatural speed, her tiny body diving directly into the coin pile like a dragon returning to her hoard.

"Mine! All mine!" She clutched gold coins like a food-guarding whelp, round glasses knocked completely askew.

Deren coughed lightly. "Chief Financial Officer, mind your professional image."

Jaina watched this scene with barely concealed amusement, then suddenly asked with deceptive casualness, "What is the actual production cost?"

Deren blinked innocently. "Trade secret."

But Jaina clearly saw his finger gesture a "1" under the table.

Sunset's afterglow spilled brilliantly over Theramore harbor. Sea wind carrying salty dampness brushed Deren's cheek with refreshing coolness. He weighed the heavy coin pouch in hand, metallic collision sounds making his lips curve with satisfaction.

"Over three hundred gold coins... Jaina's tax fees were remarkably generous." Deren muttered quietly, expertly dividing the gold coins in half—one half handed to the chief financial officer beside him, the other tucked securely into his spatial bag.

Goblin Baron Revilgaz stood on the dock, directing workers loading the first fertilizer shipment with military precision. He rubbed his hands together, eyes gleaming with barely suppressed avarice. "Mr. Deren, most pleasant cooperation! I will personally supervise this cargo's return to Booty Bay, ensuring everything proceeds smoothly without complications."

Deren nodded courteously, watching the goblin's ship slowly depart harbor with sails unfurling. Jaina walked over with graceful steps, smiling genuinely. "Seems your business mission was completed smoothly. Need me to send you back with another teleportation?"

"Of course, my lady." Deren bowed slightly. "The swamp roads are not exactly safe for evening travel."

Twilight descended dramatically. Dustwallow Marsh fog gradually spread like living things. Onyxia stood on the beach, golden vertical pupils flickering with anxious light in gathering darkness. Only when Jaina's teleportation glow brightened and Deren's figure materialized did her tense posture relax.

"You finally returned." She quickly stepped forward, looking him up and down with obvious concern. After confirming he was not missing any limbs, she hummed lightly. "I thought you had been swindled by those greedy goblins."

Deren grinned, pulling the heavy coin pouch from his spatial bag, waving it before her eyes enticingly. "Here, your payment."

The gold coin's light glittered hypnotically in the moonlight. Onyxia's pupils instantly contracted into thin vertical slits. She snatched the pouch with possessive speed, fingers lightly toying with coins inside. Metallic collision sounds made her pleasurably narrow her eyes.

"Not bad. This trip was not wasted." She said with feigned composure, yet her slightly upturned lips betrayed her genuine mood.

Deep into the night, a certain temporal rift was not peaceful.

Chromie tossed and turned restlessly, finally unable to resist climbing up, tiptoeing to her gold coin chest, carefully opening it with reverent hands, and counting one by one.

"Three hundred twenty-seven... three hundred twenty-eight..." She muttered quietly, eyes sparkling with pure draconic joy.

Far away in the swamp cavern, Onyxia likewise could not sleep. She lay atop her gold coin piles, tail gently swaying with contentment, claws toying with the pouch Deren brought back, occasionally emitting satisfied hums.

"Indeed, no dragon can refuse gold coins..." Deren leaned at the cave entrance, watching this scene with affection, unable to resist shaking his head with a knowing smile.

The night was still long, and gold coins' temptation had only just begun.