To Jeanne's total surprise, the rose-gold Theresa had promised was delivered to the dragon that very same evening. The heavy metal bars filled an entire iron-bound container, and when the child lifted it effortlessly by the handle, she beamed with a joy so intense she looked ready to leap straight into the sky.
"You people brought a massive crate of solid bullion along on a military campaign?" Jeanne asked, staring at the glittering contents in utter bewilderment. "What was the plan for this? Were you carrying it around to pay off highwaymen along the border?"
Jeanne genuinely began to wonder if her own understanding of the world was simply too limited. Was this standard practice for major regional factions? Did a sovereign state transport a hundred pounds of refined ore as casually as a basket of fresh fruit?
Gold bars weren't exactly a universal currency among common scavengers either. Whenever Jeanne traded with the local nomads, they always preferred Originium shards or basic barter items, and they would even look slightly hesitant if she offered them standard Lungmen dollars.
Then again, considering the sheer scale of this titan-class mobile fortress, maintaining a small reserve of high-value commodities wasn't entirely beyond reason. Perhaps her own humble background was simply restricting her imagination.
"We minted those bars just an hour ago," the Doctor explained, her voice carrying a hint of amusement. "Our vessel houses an entire manufacturing workshop dedicated to refining raw minerals into standard weights. We would never risk carrying a mountain of precious metals into an active combat zone; it's not as if we need to hand out shiny trinkets to boost our vanguard's morale."
The explanation caused the pieces to click together in Jeanne's mind. She finally recalled that the vessel did indeed feature a fully equipped mineral processing bay! It possessed the capacity to forge refined bars out of base materials. The strategist hadn't been joking with her during their negotiations after all.
I'm not exactly destitute myself, Jeanne thought, a faint smile touching her lips. Though she wasn't entirely certain how her private accounts stacked up against Babel's massive treasury, she technically qualified as a very wealthy woman. Why, then, did she possess an absolute zero sense of being rich?
Likely because she rarely encountered a situation where she actually needed to spend her wealth. Holding onto a fortune without ever utilizing it was a rather ironic situation, but she found a certain charm in it.
Still, realizing the landship contained an entire automated foundry made her wonder what other marvelous secrets were hidden deep within the lower decks. She looked down at the massive steel plates beneath her boots, filled with a sudden curiosity about the hidden mechanisms of the fortress.
When Jeanne returned to their private quarters later that evening, she discovered the young dragon rolling back and forth across the mattress. The child had meticulously arranged the gold bars until they formed a solid, metallic sheet across the entire bed, and she was grinning from ear to ear, completely ecstatic to finally realize her dream of napping on treasure.
"Do those heavy metal edges not dig into your ribs at all?" Jeanne chuckled, leaning against the doorframe as she watched the absurd display. "Most people would be content to hold one or two pieces in their hands to admire them, but you actually turned a pile of bullion into a mattress!"
She couldn't help but laugh out loud at the sight. This was an ancient, terrifying dragon of legend, yet here she was, practically floating on air over a single crate of rose-gold. Whatever happened to the terrifying dignity of her prehistoric lineage?
(Fafnir: Dignity? What is that? Does it taste good with honey?)
"I'm just so happy! I have my own treasure again!" the child cheered, rolling onto her side and clutching a bar to her chest. "All of my old wealth was taken away after that horrible man defeated me. I was left with absolutely nothing... It took me so long to find a new hoard..."
The child lowered her gaze, her tone turning remarkably pitiful as she recounted the tragic ancient history. She possessed a faint, lingering memory of once owning a mountain of glittering gems and ancient coins—long before a warrior named Siegfried entered her cavern with a drawn blade.
She had zero knowledge of what transpired after that fateful day. Her consciousness had faded the moment the hero's weapon struck home, so she had no way of knowing how her hoard had been distributed or which local tax collectors had claimed the spoils. She simply assumed Siegfried had carried the entire treasury away in his bags.
Even if the hero hadn't emptied the cavern himself, once word spread across the lands that the great dragon had fallen, the local kingdoms would have undoubtedly swarmed the mountain to pick the bones clean. Remembering that loss, the sight of these fresh, gleaming bars brought an overwhelming wave of comfort to her heart.
Jeanne stared down at the small, radiant face, a complex mixture of sympathy and amusement swirling in her chest. She gently ruffed the child's hair, secretly thinking that Siegfried character must have been an absolute villain. Who in their right mind would rob a hoard from an individual this precious? It felt entirely criminal!
Siegfried, you truly left a trail of chaos behind you, Jeanne mused. She couldn't comprehend how any legendary knight could bring themselves to swing a heavy sword at a creature this endearing. It felt like an absolute sin.
The Saintess made a quiet vow to herself: if she ever crossed paths with that famous dragon-slayer in some distant realm, she would ensure the warrior offered a formal, heartfelt apology to her young companion. Hopefully, the encounter wouldn't devolve into a total brawl.
(Siegfried: I am deeply, profoundly sorry...)
"Don't worry," Jeanne murmured softly, kneeling by the bedside to stroke the girl's hair. "No one on this vessel will ever dream of touching your treasure. And there certainly isn't another legendary knight waiting to spring from the corridors to challenge you. Just keep it tucked away safely. Besides, even if someone tries anything, you still have me to protect you, right?"
She could tell the child was simply suffering from a deep psychological scar left by her ancient defeat, harboring a lingering fear that if she let the box out of her sight for even a second, some passing hero would snatch it away.
Hearing Jeanne's reassuring words, the young dragon seemed to find a sudden sense of peace. She obediently gathered the bars and stacked them back into the iron-bound container, locking the latch before hugging the box tightly against her chest. She sat there quietly, counting the contents one more time just to be absolutely certain before letting her guard down.
"You really are something else..." Jeanne chuckled softly, offering another gentle pat to the girl's head. It was the absolute first time she had witnessed her fierce companion displaying such an endearing, possessive trait.
Yet, this greedy phase was remarkably charming. Looking at that determined little face made Jeanne want to empty her entire private purse just to give the child a few more coins. She couldn't help but wonder if Talulah would display the exact same comical greed if she ever managed to secure a proper fortune.
Ah, right, I forgot, Jeanne realized with a quiet smirk. Talulah doesn't have a single coin to her name. She's significantly poorer than I am.
(Talulah: If you keep repeating that rumor, you had better prepare for a severe thrashing the moment you return to camp!)
"You can stop counting those bars now, they aren't going to sprout legs and walk away," Jeanne said, her voice full of gentle exasperation. "Why don't you find a secure nook to tuck the chest into? That way, no one will ever find your hiding spot."
The suggestion caused the child's eyes to light up instantly. She scrambled off the mattress, casting a sharp glance around the tiny cabin as if she were evaluating the metal corners for a suitable cavern or a hidden crevice.
But a standard steel cabin didn't exactly feature prime subterranean architecture. Jeanne watched in silence as the young dragon paced the perimeter, utterly stymied by the lack of stone fissures. Ultimately, the child refused to relinquish her grip on the iron handle; she simply climbed back onto the covers, hugging the container securely against her chest as she drifted off into a deep, peaceful slumber.
Though the child's absolute possessiveness was rather comical, Jeanne could only smile warmly at the sight. She pulled out a small device and quietly snapped a quick photograph of the sleeping dragon to preserve the memory.
Over the following few days, the young dragon appeared to be constantly weighed down by a massive, secret worry. Jeanne couldn't penetrate her thoughts; the child spent hours sitting in silence, her brow furrowed as she worked through some profound internal calculation.
This heavy, contemplative mood persisted even after Rhodes Island successfully navigated the final mountain passes and arrived at Babel's primary headquarters. The child simply stood on the observation deck, staring into the distance while her thoughts remained entirely anchored to that single box of gold.
Fortunately, the final leg of their journey through the frontier had been entirely devoid of hostile interference. Whether the regional warlords had been thoroughly spooked by the warnings of the retreating mercenaries or simply lacked the stomach for a fight, the defensive details never encountered a threat severe enough to warrant deploying Jeanne's flock.
After all, if the elite vanguard squads had to call for draconic air support to resolve every minor border dispute, it would mean the mercenaries were entirely incompetent—an absolute waste of resources under the Doctor's strict ledger.
"I can't believe we've finally returned to this valley," Jeanne murmured, stepping onto the forward walkway and squinting at the central structures of the Babel complex. She paused, a trace of hesitation entering her voice. "Wait... is it just my imagination, or does this place look significantly more... dilapidated than when I left?"
Her instincts weren't deceiving her. The primary structures looked as though they had been subjected to a massive, concentrated demolition effort. She could only hope the skeleton crew left behind to secure the facility hadn't suffered heavy casualties during the siege.
"A few nights ago, a rogue demolition team managed to bypass our outer markers and detonate a substantial payload near the foundations," a familiar voice answered.
Jeanne turned her head to find the Doctor stepping up beside her, completely unprompted. The strategist seemed entirely relaxed, which caught Jeanne off guard; she hadn't expected the commander to have any spare time for casual conversation given their current schedule. "Though our sentries managed to neutralize the threat before they breached the core, the secondary shockwave tore through the facade. Fortunately, our personnel sustained zero critical injuries."
"Do you have a specific matter to discuss?" Jeanne asked. Knowing how many logistical variables the strategist had to balance upon arrival, she skipped the pleasantries and went straight to the heart of the visit.
"Nothing urgent," the Doctor replied, scratching the side of her reinforced helmet. "I simply noticed that our young dragon friend has been looking rather sullen and distant over the past few days. I wanted to verify whether she was experiencing any medical complications that might hinder our upcoming maneuvers."
"Oh, that? It's nothing to worry about," Jeanne chuckled, a wave of relief washing over her as she pictured the child currently guarding her prize inside the cabin. "She's simply experiencing a severe bout of draconic greed. She's terrified that some clever thief is going to sneak into her quarters and vanish with her hoard."
As the words left her lips, Jeanne spotted a familiar figure bouncing merrily down the main catwalk toward their position. To her absolute surprise, the young dragon had actually abandoned her post beside the iron chest to wander out into the open air.