“Ding… ding… clang… clang…”
An unknown amount of time passed.
The rhythmic tapping deep in the cave was like a lullaby, lulling Balthazar, curled in the depths, into a deep sleep.
He was digesting the massive amount of mana brought by that piece of God’s Flesh in his stomach while also adapting to the unique aura within this Divine Corpse territory.
However, a sudden, intense hunger struck like a bolt of lightning, instantly piercing through his half-asleep consciousness and jolting him completely awake from his groggy state.
“Gurgle… rumble…”
The sound didn’t come from outside but directly from his massive, furnace-like stomach.
This feeling was very unfamiliar.
Since hatching, he had relied on consuming the mana in treasures and the power in his bloodline, never experiencing such intense hunger.
But now, the sharp pain of his stomach walls rubbing together due to contraction—as if countless hands were tearing inside—made him involuntarily curl his massive body.
Was it because his body needed more energy during its evolutionary phase?
Or was it a side effect of digesting that “God’s Flesh”?
The acid produced by the violent contraction of his stomach surged at the bottom of his esophagus.
The burning sensation, as if it were about to digest his internal organs, made Balthazar’s tightly closed eyelids twitch violently.
[…Wake up… Dragon.]
That familiar voice didn’t pass through his ears but followed the thread of their mental link, like a drop of ice water falling into a boiling pot of oil, spreading directly into the depths of his consciousness.
There was a hint of anxiety in the voice, but more so a sense of helplessness in the face of an irresistible force.
[I know you’re immersed in a dream of growing power, but if we don’t solve the problem at hand… we’ll all starve to death.]
Balthazar snapped his eyes open.
His dark red vertical pupils instantly lit up in the dark cave like two suddenly ignited searchlights, with a lingering savage red glow caused by extreme hunger deep within them.
He exhaled heavily, the high-heat white mist blowing from his nostrils instantly sweeping through the space in front of him, warping the surrounding dry air with heat.
His vision gradually focused.
Before him, that tiny figure stood quietly.
Olga stood less than two meters from the dragon’s snout, forced to tilt her head back to meet those massive eyes.
Beneath the black robe covering her entire body, the exposed hem of her skirt was stained with obvious black stone dust.
On her face, which usually wore a proud smile, there was now a hint of gravity that was hard to hide.
“You’re finally awake.”
She sighed softly.
She didn’t retreat a single step from the terrifying pressure of the dragon’s awakening; instead, she took a small step forward and reached out, as if wanting to soothe this beast that seemed irritable from hunger, but ultimately restrained herself and stopped in mid-air.
“Listen to that noise…”
Olga’s gaze shifted downward, landing on Balthazar’s belly covered in thick scales.
Just then, another rumble like muffled thunder came from there, making the ground vibrate slightly.
“Though I’d rather not disturb your slumber with such mundane matters, this is indeed a troublesome problem.”
She turned and pointed toward the cave entrance.
Several baskets of dried meat and moldy tubers scavenged from the Kobold tribe had been piled there.
But now, only a few empty, broken baskets remained, rolling around on the ground in the wind.
“Our food supplies… have run dry.”
Olga’s voice echoed in the cavernous space, sounding particularly harsh.
“The Kobolds are quite hardworking; for your ‘grand blueprint,’ they’ve put in every ounce of effort. But the problem is, labor consumes energy, and this Black Mountain…”
She spread her hands, a bitter curve forming at the corners of her mouth as she looked around this silent world of nothing but stone.
“Aside from these hard stones you like to eat and the somewhat tooth-breaking divine veins, not even a mouse can be found.”
“This is a ‘dead land,’ literally. No plants, no prey, only wind, snow, and stone.”
Olga paused, her gaze returning to Balthazar’s face, her eyes becoming sharp.
“Besides, you’ve probably felt it yourself, haven’t you? That ordinary hunger… Your current body likely can’t be filled just by eating stones. I can feel the fire in your stomach craving fresher, more life-filled flesh to quench it.”
“Both Chloe and I have very slow metabolisms. I myself have long since learned Fasting Magic and no longer need anything other than mana. Although Chloe is pregnant, it doesn’t matter if she doesn’t eat for a week.”
“But your Kobolds can’t do that.”
As if to confirm what Olga said, behind her, the Kobolds were slumped over, listlessly swinging their pickaxes.
But clearly, the slow “ding… ding… ding” sounds confirmed their hunger.
She rubbed her temples somewhat helplessly, a few strands of her originally elegant hair falling loose, showing a bit of exhaustion.
“If this isn’t resolved soon, we won’t have to wait for the Black Dog Mercenary Group to attack; your loyal ‘Iron-Eater Tribe’… will probably start looking at each other and drooling from hunger.”
That raspy, low voice, sounding like rusted gears forced together, stirred a visible wave of sound in the cavernous Iron Imperial Palace.
Olga’s tattered skirt flapped in the shockwave of heat, and she had to turn slightly, pressing her hand against her disheveled black hair to keep the dust out of her eyes.
“Three days… only three days, my Liege.”
Olga lowered her hand, her gaze complex as she scanned the behemoth before her, which was a full size larger than before it fell asleep.
“But in these short three days, the changes in you are as if you’ve been soaking in a high-concentration mana pool for thirty years.”
As she spoke, she moved two steps to the side, clearing a line of sight to the cave entrance.
There, a few Kobolds on night watch were huddled in a corner, terrified into a heap by the previous dragon roar, even tossing aside the pickaxes they treasured.
“Gurgle—”
The massive stomach rumble exploded like muffled thunder again, this time even shaking loose several pieces of rubble from the ceiling, which hit the pitch-black, hard ground with a crisp sound.
Olga looked at the dragon’s snout, from which high-heat saliva continuously dripped.
Her eyes turned sharp, the look of a hunter catching the scent of blood.
“Your current body is a bottomless pit. Ordinary wild fruit, dried meat—even if you stuffed that whole useless group of Kobolds between your teeth, it wouldn’t fill the void left by your evolution. You need higher-grade fuel, living flesh full of life essence.”
She walked slowly to the rock wall where a map she had drawn herself was hanging.
She extended a honey-colored finger, pressed heavily on the ink representing the Black Mountains, and then traced a graceful arc southward, pointing to the forest at the southern foot of the mountain.
“Though this is a dead land, it doesn’t mean we don’t have ‘neighbors’.”
Olga turned back, a cruel light flashing in her amber eyes, her lips curling into an elegant yet cold smile.
“In the forest adjacent to the Black Mountain, there are many magical beasts you can eat, and we can eat them too… however.”
Olga sighed and said, “Most of them, breathing in toxic miasma, are poisonous, or they’re just big fleshy worms… In the lush forest, the most nutritious and flavorful meat usually belongs to the larvae of some Giant Butterfly Magical Beasts.”
“So, we might have to eat some… bugs.”
[Go hunting?]
A thought flashed through his mind, but he immediately rejected it.
From previous reconnaissance, the so-called forest adjacent to the Black Mountain was at least dozens of kilometers away.
A round trip would not only consume a lot of stamina, but the food he could carry back each time wouldn’t be enough to last a week.
Moreover, it would expose this hard-won secret nest to unknown risks.