Annie slept soundly for three hours before waking. Upon opening her eyes, she saw Charlot, and her heart was instantly filled with joy. She threw her arms around him, and the two embraced for a while before Charlot smiled and said, “Don’t worry, I’m perfectly fine!”
“Rest a little longer,” he continued. “I need to interrogate a prisoner.”
Annie asked curiously, “A prisoner?”
Charlot replied, “The Saint-rank orc who pursued you and Grandma Saint Karen.”
Annie was startled and exclaimed, “You captured a Saint-rank alive?”
Charlot smiled faintly and said, “It took four Saint-ranks working together.”
The Golden Ram Herolf matched the Lizardman Black Dragon in power, the Leopardman Tumisan was the fastest being alive, Sabastine excelled at long-range attacks as a Saint-rank archer, and Grandma Saint Karen, a Dreamwalker, provided perfect support with her dreamcrafting arts.
Charlot didn’t know the details of the battle, but he felt the outcome was “reasonable.”
Though reluctant to let Charlot leave, Annie understood he had important matters to attend to. She released him reluctantly but suddenly remembered something. “I have something for you!” she said hurriedly.
Annie retrieved a small, exquisite makeup case, opened it eagerly, and turned it upside down. To Charlot’s shock, at least two or three dozen weapons spilled out, clattering onto the floor. Every single one was extraordinary, with no less than five or six high-grade transcendent weapons among them.
Blushing slightly, Annie said softly, “I was in a hurry, so I only managed to grab these from Father’s study. Use them for now.”
Charlot couldn’t help but imagine Earl Bretagne cleaning his guns again. He wondered which one the Earl was polishing at this very moment.
Gently stroking Annie’s cheek, Charlot said tenderly, “Keep them for now. We’ll discuss this when I return.”
Though Charlot appreciated Annie’s thoughtfulness, he was acutely aware of how Earl Bretagne might interpret this act. The Earl might harbor even more “ill intentions” toward him.
Charlot reassured Annie with a few words and then left in haste. To his surprise, he didn’t see a bound and subdued Lizardman Black Dragon. Instead, he encountered a middle-aged man engaging in animated conversation with Herolf, Tumisan, Sabastine, and Grandma Saint Karen.
The Saint-rank orc had clearly mastered the Beast God Transformation technique, appearing as a refined human gentleman. His demeanor and movements were elegant, reminiscent of an old nobleman, with no trace of savagery or crudeness.
Upon seeing Charlot, the Saint-rank orc briefly scrutinized him before adjusting his expression and greeting him warmly. “Charlot Mecklenburg! Though this is our first meeting, we should be quite familiar with each other. I’ve read your novels and even written fanfiction based on your debut work.”
The saying goes: one does not strike a smiling face.
Charlot couldn’t bring himself to act hostile. Smiling faintly, he said, “Mr. Black Dragon, your decision to join us is a great honor for the West Wind Knight Order. Whatever requests you have, feel free to voice them. I will do my utmost to fulfill them.”
The Black Dragon was momentarily surprised but quickly smiled. “Can I have a high-grade transcendent weapon?”
Charlot replied politely, “Please wait a moment.”
He stepped away and soon returned, carrying five high-grade transcendent weapons. “Not knowing your preferred combat style or weapon type, I brought a selection for you to choose from. If none are suitable, I’ll find more.”
The Black Dragon, smiling as he shook his head, turned to Tumisan and said, “I believe you now. Charlot Mecklenburg might truly lead the orcs out of their plight.”
He casually picked a rapier and handed it to Charlot.
After a brief pause, Charlot understood his intent. He reversed the rapier and placed its hilt on the Black Dragon’s shoulder. “Sir Black Dragon! From this day forward, you shall be a lifelong ally to the Mecklenburg family! As long as the Mecklenburg family endures, we will honor and protect you through countless epochs of the gods.”
Smiling, the Black Dragon took the rapier, pressed it to his chest, and said, “Charlot Mecklenburg, I, the Black Dragon, vow to protect your family for generations. Where your bloodline continues, so shall our friendship.”
These exchanges were not casual words but formal oaths used by great nobles when accepting a retainer.
Charlot didn’t understand why the Black Dragon had so readily chosen allegiance, but he certainly wouldn’t refuse a Saint-rank, especially one as powerful as the Black Dragon, who rivaled the Golden Ram Herolf.
Unbeknownst to Charlot, the Black Dragon had taken a great gamble in siding with him.
When the Black Dragon was besieged by the four Saint-ranks, he was overwhelmed. Seeing Tumisan, leader of the Orc Assassin Alliance, he feared that someone had paid a hefty price to have him eliminated.
Tumisan, however, urged the Black Dragon to surrender. Already pushed to his limits, the Black Dragon realized that with Herolf matching his strength and Sabastine and Grandma Saint Karen providing unparalleled support, he couldn’t endure much longer.
With Dreamcrafting arts disrupting his focus, he was left vulnerable to Herolf’s attacks. Faced with no alternative, he chose to surrender and was brought to Dubrovnik.
Tumisan genuinely wanted to recruit the Black Dragon for Charlot. Though the Black Dragon didn’t immediately agree, neither did he refuse. His hesitation stemmed from Charlot’s relatively low rank and his own lingering pride. But with four Saint-ranks watching, he dared not act rashly.
When Charlot arrived, the Black Dragon assumed he had already surrendered.
Charlot, ever the transmigrator, didn’t mind potential misunderstandings. To him, awkwardness was a minor inconvenience, easily dismissed. After all, was his confidence in his charisma and luck not justified?
By offering a high-grade transcendent weapon, Charlot aimed to secure the Black Dragon’s loyalty—a wager he considered well worth the risk. If it failed, he’d simply find a way to explain it to Earl Bretagne.
The Black Dragon, treasuring the rapier, smiled bitterly. “I never thought I’d one day serve under a human.”
Tumisan was stunned. His intention was merely to have the Black Dragon join Charlot’s team, not to see such swift allegiance.
Herolf, too, was confused, his mind racing. “Wait, Charlot didn’t even use his magical contract scroll! How did the Black Dragon pledge himself so easily?”
“Has he no pride?” Herolf muttered to himself.
“Did this old lizard really deserve such a high position?”
Sabastine and Grandma Saint Karen had mixed feelings. Sabastine was more accepting, as she had witnessed Charlot’s rise, particularly his feats in helping Menielman capture the alchemical warship and Saint Michael Island. His successes earned him respect as an equal.
Grandma Saint Karen, however, was far more shocked. When she first met Charlot, he was merely a novice extraordinary, relying on Annie’s affection for him. Though she had grown fond of Charlot, she hadn’t fully believed in his potential.
Now, surrounded by Saint-ranks, Grandma Saint Karen saw them treating Charlot with respect. This shift made her reevaluate her initial doubts about his prospects.
As for the weapons Charlot casually produced—recently stored in Earl Bretagne’s study—Grandma Saint Karen found it entirely reasonable.