Chapter 150 - 149 I’m Done Speaking
Leon genuinely wanted to rule Watchtower Port, so tyranny was not an option. Under such circumstances, a benevolent subordinate was essential, otherwise, entrusting all administrative duties to Cecilia the Green Dragon, or to the Efreeti, would inevitably result in troubled and destitute citizens, with evil prevailing and no chance for development.
To spare the bronze dragon, Leon decided to let the adventurers go, although they had indeed killed many Fire Melt Salamanders and were undeniably executioners... They could be spared from death, but not from punishment; they didn’t need to lose hands or feet, merely that they must leave all their weapons and equipment behind.
Leon picked out a few interesting items he fancied, and the rest were rewarded to the Fire Melt Salamanders, considered as a form of compensation and consolation. As for them giving the items to the evil Fire Element Prince Yimixi later, keeping only a portion for themselves, Leon couldn’t be bothered to care.
Leon couldn’t be bothered to trouble the adventurers for the sake of the Fire Melt Salamanders, one reason being his utter disdain for them—he was quite sure that at Yimixi’s command, they wouldn’t hesitate to betray him.
"That Red Dragon actually let us go."
At this time, the group of adventurers was sitting in the small boat they had taken to the Volcanic Island, heading back to Watchtower Port. Each was wearing just a pair of shorts, barely covering their private parts to avoid complete embarrassment, though they were already quite embarrassed. At least they had saved their skins, and that was enough.
"That justice-filled, foolish female knight turned out to be a bronze dragon." The Wanderer was very unhappy about the heavy losses incurred in this adventure, "At least there should have been a fight giving us a chance to escape; to be pinned to the ground unable to move from the moment we met her... Even if a bronze dragon couldn’t beat a Red Dragon, it’s too shameful."
"Talk about biting the hand that feeds you," curled up in a corner of the boat, the Elf Ranger spoke, his damp hair clinging with sand and gravel, his muscular back covered with wounds, still exuding charm despite being in such a sorry state, "If it weren’t for her, you’d be in the belly of a Red Dragon by now."
"That Red Dragon is very special." The Stealth said with a flexible sense of morality, "If it really comes down to it, I could consider being his subordinate."
"I see he doesn’t fancy you much," taunted the Elf Ranger.
"That Red Dragon really is very special. Despite his size, his scales still shine like those of a baby dragon," commented the knowledgeable Mage, "And have you noticed... normal Red Dragons are supposed to be clumsy, like bronze dragons are clumsy in their movements, yet he is incredibly agile and capable of performing complex movements with ease, almost like a large cat."