Chapter 92 - 89: Spicy
Seeing that he had already intimidated this bunch of clueless Drow and secured the qualifications to meet the ’Receiver,’ David abandoned any further notion of picking a fight. The tip of his tail deftly flipped the brass cup upside down onto the oak bar counter. Then, under the Drow’s invitation and watchful gaze, he ascended the spiral staircase to the second floor with majestic, tiger-like strides.
Hiatt and their two companions, along with the Winter Wolf, who were behind David, were about to follow but were stopped by the attendant. They all looked towards David. Seeing their Dragon Lord’s tail wave at them as if completely unconcerned, they immediately stayed put at the foot of the spiral staircase, ending up in a staring contest with the Drow attendant.
As soon as David reached the second floor, he saw a female Drow Elf sitting regally in a large chair behind a long table.
This Drow gently turned the pages of a book, holding a pen at an angle. She seemed to be extracting key information and recording it in a journal beside her. Perhaps hearing the loud creaking of the spiral staircase as he ascended, groaning as if about to collapse under his weight, she closed the book—which, surprisingly, had a cover in High Elvish—and looked up at him.
The Drow had eyes distinctly different from common Drow, a blue-green reminiscent of a raging winter blizzard, which set off her slightly purplish, pale skin. Her tight clothing accentuated a lean yet powerful, impressive figure, enticing a dragon’s fancy.
She’s a Drow of mixed High Elf blood, David noted.
Perhaps sensing David’s unrestrained gaze, the corners of her lips curled slightly, as if in a hint of provocation.
David, being a Red Dragon, could certainly perceive this allure from another species. However, still in his wyrmling stage, he would never make the mistakes that young adult dragons might.
He strode confidently towards her, his large, ferocious head coming so close it almost brushed her cheek as he sniffed her.
This outrageous and dangerous action terrified the surrounding Drow out of their wits.
At such close proximity, if this young Red Dragon harbored any ill will or had a momentary lapse in judgment, he could easily bite off their mistress’s head.
They immediately drew their scimitars, intending to intervene, but their mistress stopped them with a raised hand. Instead, she tilted her head back, looking up at David, a smile playing on her lips as she said, "Well? How is the scent, Lord David Uthos?"