Chapter 20: The Goblin Enters the Game

Deep within Onyxia’s Lair, the massive chasm has extended three levels downward.

Her dragon claws raked across the rock face, obsidian-like talons easily peeling away loose debris. She stood at the bottom of the pit, looking up—the area was stacked with burlap sacks, bags of ammonium nitrate neatly arranged on custom-made moisture-proof racks, filling nearly half of the lair. Five hundred tons—the number swirled in her mind. Five hundred tons of ammonium nitrate; enough to send every stone in Grim Batol flying into the sky.

Her claws gently brushed the surface of the sacks, the scent of sulfur and saltpeter lingering in her nostrils. Once upon a time, her lair had been filled with gold coins, gemstones, and spoils of war, but now… it was fertilizer.

Dren had said these could be traded for gold.

She had believed him.

The corners of her mouth curled upward involuntarily, and Onyxia suddenly narrowed her eyes. Ordinary rock structures could not withstand an explosion of such magnitude. She took a deep breath, dark red fire igniting within her draconic pupils.

"BOOM—"

A torrent of black flame erupted from her maw, precisely sweeping across the four walls of the pit. The rock melted instantly under the extreme heat, only to cool rapidly, forming a smooth, mirror-like crystallized surface. This newly forged wall was several times harder than the original, sufficient to direct the force of the blast exactly as intended.

"Not enough..."

She swung her tail, pacing slowly along the edge of the pit. Each breath was accompanied by tiny sparks, and every place her feet lingered caused the ground to glow a faint red. This was the unique lava-forging technique of the black dragonflight, usually reserved for reinforcing the core of their lairs.

When the last section of the wall had been remelted and reinforced, Onyxia shifted back into her elf form, her fingertips gently tapping the crystallized surface. A crisp echo reverberated through the pit, like the countdown of a grim reaper.

"Father..." she whispered to herself, her nails leaving a charred mark on the wall. "You taught us that power is everything."

On the wall, her reflection wore a sinister smile.

"Now, let me teach you a lesson, the human way."

***

Within a time rift, Chromie curled up on a pile of gold coins, clutching her beloved *Caverns of Time Annual Financial Report*.

"Thirty thousand gold for sulfur... ten thousand gold for the dwarf deposit... twenty thousand gold to bribe the goblin customs..." Every time she recited a figure, more tears welled up in her large, golden eyes. "My money... my precious, precious money..."

She grabbed an ancient elven gold coin and bit down hard—it was her old habit for testing authenticity. *Snap!* A dragon tooth went flying, tracing a shimmering arc through the time rift.

"Waaaaah—" Chromie finally broke down, rolling around on a pile of ledgers. "Dren, that big liar! Talking about 'investing in the future'... the future is just a gold-eating beast!"

With tear-blurred vision, she flipped to the latest page of expenditure records:

"Customized Dragon-breath Reaction Vessel": 8,000 gold
"Goblin Express Urgent Delivery Fee": 3,500 gold
"Mental Distress Compensation for Dragonkin Upset by Ammonia Fumes": 1,200 gold

"Even the Dragonkin get mental distress compensation?!" Chromie was so angry her twin tails stood on end. "They were the ones getting high on the sulfur fumes!"

Suddenly, she noticed a line of small print at the edge of the ledger:

"Reserve Fund: Purchase a new necklace for Onyxia (budget unlimited)"

"..."

A deafening dragon roar echoed through the time rift. The nearby flow of time was so startled it twisted for a second.

"I am going to kill that love-struck human!!" Chromie shifted back into her bronze dragon form, rampaging through the time rift, knocking over three mountains of gold and five piles of gems. "He actually used my money to buy a necklace for a black dragon?!"

After venting her rage, she collapsed on a pile of scattered antiques, sobbing, "That was the necklace design I swiped from Suramar ten thousand years ago... I was planning to have it made for myself once the vault turned a profit..."

***

The sea breeze at Theramore harbor carried a salty, fishy tang. Chromie drifted listlessly beside the goblin cargo ship. Her small ledger flipped noisily, and with every turn of the page, the resentment on her face grew thicker.

"More sulfur? Saltpeter? Or that damn aluminum powder?" she muttered, her large golden eyes fixed on the goblin laborers unloading cargo. "If this keeps up, I’ll have to go rob the Dalaran vault..."

Just then, a shrill voice came from the deck.

"Ms. Miro! My dear Ms. Miro!"

Chromie looked up to see Prince Gallywix sprinting down the gangplank on his short legs. The goblin merchant was exceptionally dapper today: his gold-rimmed spectacles were polished to a shine, a diamond lapel pin adorned his silk vest, and even his boots were lined with gold. The smile on his face was so brilliant it could almost blind someone, and he waved a gold-leafed contract in his hand.

Chromie’s draconic instincts immediately triggered an alarm—the sweeter a goblin smiles, the harder they’re planning to fleece you.

"Prince Gallywix?" She retreated half a step, wary. "Why did you come yourself?"

"A miracle! It's a commercial miracle!" The goblin prince danced with excitement, nearly slipping off the ramp into the sea. "Your company's potash—it’s magical! The crop yield on my experimental fields has increased by half!"

Chromie blinked. "...What potash?"

"The sample you sent from Booty Bay last time!" Gallywix pulled a handful of wheat grains from his pocket. "Look at this quality! Look at this color! The Trade Prince is willing to pay a high price for exclusive distribution rights!"

Chromie’s eyes widened. She cautiously took the wheat grains, her fingertips brushing the heavy kernels. As a bronze dragon, she could sense that the crop was indeed significantly more robust!

"This..." Her brain raced, her draconic business instincts instantly awakening. "Our potash production capacity is currently rather tight..."

"I'll take everything you have," Gallywix immediately interrupted, his gold teeth sparkling. "Fifty percent deposit upfront!"

Chromie’s pupils instantly transformed into the shape of gold coins.

In the distance, Jaina appeared at the end of the harbor pier. She had originally been conducting a routine inspection of the port, but the commotion caught her attention. When she saw the goblin prince bowing and scraping to a "gnome finance director," her eyebrows rose slightly.

"It seems," she whispered to herself, her staff swirling with a graceful arc of light, "I must pay a visit to the swamp myself."

***

Inside the Theramore conference hall, sunlight streamed through the stained glass, casting mottled shadows across the long oak table. Dren leaned back in his chair, his fingertips drumming lightly against a draft contract, a faint, inscrutable smile playing on his lips.

"Four gold per ton," he said nonchalantly, as if merely discussing the weather.

Prince Gallywix’s gold teeth flashed violently. "Ho... how much?"

"Four gold, wholesale price." Dren opened the ledger and pushed it toward him. "Considering transportation costs and market premiums, it’s a very fair price."

Jaina’s eyebrows arched slightly. As the ruler of Theramore, she knew exactly what this figure meant—the market price for ordinary fertilizer in the Eastern Kingdoms was no more than five gold.

The goblin swallowed, his small eyes gleaming with greed. "Mr. Dren, this price... isn't it a bit..."

"Too expensive?" Dren closed the ledger. "Then you are welcome to work with the Rustwater Cartel. I hear they are also developing a new type of fertilizer recently..."

"No, no, no!" Gallywix immediately plastered on a smile. "I meant... it’s such a bargain!" He pulled out a handkerchief to wipe his forehead. "The Trade Prince is willing to prepay for 200 tons!"

Jaina’s fingertip tapped lightly on the tabletop. "Theramore will take a 10% port tax."

"3%." Dren smiled.

"8%."

"5%, and that includes transport from the swamp to the port."

"Deal."

***

As Gallywix signed his name with a trembling hand, Dren caught a glimpse of Chromie hiding behind the door crack, her large golden eyes already shaped like gold coins.

An attendant brought in a heavy treasure chest, and the crisp clinking of gold coins silenced the room. The moment Gallywix opened the chest—

*Clatter, clatter!*

Eight hundred gold coins shimmered, piling into a small mountain on the table. Chromie finally couldn't help herself and rushed in, her small body diving headfirst into the pile of gold.

"Mine! It's all mine!" She clutched the coins like a hatchling protecting its food, her round glasses sliding askew.

Dren coughed lightly. "Finance Director, maintain your composure."

Jaina watched the scene and suddenly asked, "What is the cost?"

Dren blinked. "Commercial secret."

But Jaina clearly saw him hold up a "one" with his fingers beneath the table.

The glow of the setting sun spilled over the harbor of Theramore, the sea breeze brushing against Dren’s cheeks. He weighed the heavy coin purse in his hand, the crisp metallic sound causing the corners of his mouth to lift.

"Over three hundred gold... Jaina’s tax is quite generous." Dren muttered, expertly splitting the coins in two, handing half to the finance director beside him while tucking the other half into his own spatial bag.

Prince Gallywix stood on the pier, directing workers to load the first batch of fertilizer onto the ship. He rubbed his hands together, his eyes flashing with shrewd light. "Mr. Dren, a pleasure doing business! I will personally oversee the return of this cargo to Booty Bay to ensure everything goes smoothly."

Dren nodded and watched as the goblin ship slowly sailed away from the harbor. Jaina walked over and said with a smile, "It seems your mission was completed quite successfully. Do you need me to give you a lift?"

"Of course, my lady." Dren bowed slightly. "The roads in the swamp are not easy to navigate."

***

Twilight descended, and the mists of Dustwallow Marsh began to spread. Onyxia stood on the beach, her golden slit pupils flashing with restlessness in the darkness. Only when the glow of Jaina’s teleportation appeared and Dren’s figure emerged did her brow relax.

"You're finally back." She stepped forward, looking him up and down to ensure he wasn't missing any limbs before letting out a soft huff. "I thought you’d been swindled by those greedy goblins."

Dren grinned, pulled the heavy purse of gold from his spatial bag, and dangled it before her eyes. "There, your payment."

The glint of gold shimmered in the moonlight, and Onyxia’s pupils instantly contracted into thin slits. She snatched the purse, her fingers gently sifting through the coins inside; the crisp sound of metal colliding made her eyes narrow in pleasure.

"Not bad, at least it wasn't a wasted trip," she said, feigning composure, but the slight upturn of her mouth betrayed her mood.

***

Deep in the night, a certain time rift was not at peace.

Chromie tossed and turned, finally unable to help herself. She crawled out of bed, crept stealthily to the chest where the gold was hidden, opened it cautiously, and began counting, one by one.

"Three hundred and twenty-seven... three hundred and twenty-eight..." she whispered, her eyes sparkling.

And in the cave far away in the swamp, Onyxia couldn't sleep either. She lay on her pile of gold, her tail swaying gently as her claws toyed with the purse Dren had brought back, occasionally letting out a satisfied hum.

"Indeed, no dragon can refuse gold..." Dren leaned against the cave entrance, watching the scene, unable to help but shake his head with a smile.

The night was still long, and the temptation of gold had only just begun.