Dragon King's Harem Chapter 364. The Lizard King's Anger I
The suns grew dimmer, their light slowly retreating as they dipped below the horizon.
The sky transitioned from a warm orange to a deep indigo, and the first stars began to twinkle faintly in the growing darkness.
In the distance, the Lizard King's convoy had already set up camp. The flicker of campfires danced in the night.
His gigantic mount was already asleep, its massive form curled up near the edge of the camp. The rhythmic rise and fall of its breathing were the only signs of life from the beast.
The Lizard King's camp was modest compared to the sprawling encampment of the Dragon King. He had anticipated a simple visit, a brief foray to punish a group of commoners from the dragon tribe.
It was supposed to be a straightforward affair, a display of power and authority. However, things had taken an unexpected turn, and now he found himself in a bad position.
The camp itself was divided into several parts.
The King's tent stood at the center, but it was not grand or luxurious. Made of sturdy fabric and reinforced with simple wooden supports, it provided shelter but little comfort.
The barracks tent, where his soldiers rested, was equally unremarkable. It was functional, designed to accommodate his troops with the bare necessities.
The soldiers' silhouettes could be seen moving within, their voices low and hushed as they prepared for the night.
Nearby, the cooking tent emitted fragrant aromas.
The Lizard King, Viperax, sat in his tent, surrounded by the modest trappings of his camp. The table before him was laden with various kinds of food—roasted meats, savory stews, fresh fruits, and an assortment of breads and cheeses. Despite the abundance, his mood remained as grim as when he had left the Dragon Tribe's camp.
His wives, one seated on his right and the other on his left, tried their best to entertain him and lift his spirits.
They leaned in close, their voices soft and soothing as they spoke to him. They fed him morsels of food, hoping to coax a smile or at least a hint of satisfaction from their husband.
Yet, Viperax's expression remained unchanged.
The source of his ire was not just the recent defeat at the dragon king's hands but what had happened. The humiliation still burned in his mind. Losing a battle was one thing, but being cornered and outmaneuvered so thoroughly was another. Argod's triumph was a bitter pill to swallow, made all the worse by the circumstances that had led to it.
Indeed, the fault lay with his own nobles.
The illegal hunting and the factory scandal had been a disgrace, acts that violated not just the laws of the Dragon Tribe but also the unspoken agreements between the tribes.
Argod had seized upon these transgressions, turning them into weapons that left Viperax with no choice but to submit to his terms. The fact that Argod had managed to expose these weaknesses so effortlessly only added to Viperax's frustration.
It wasn't just a defeat; it was a lesson in humility, one that Viperax had been forced to endure in front of his own advisors and warriors. The shame of it was almost unbearable.
One of Viperax's wives, noticing his barely touched plate, leaned in closer, her hand resting gently on his arm.
"My king, you must eat," she purred, her voice low and seductive. She picked up a piece of roasted meat, his favorite, and held it to his lips. "Please, for me?"
Despite her efforts, Viperax barely parted his lips, taking a half-hearted bite. He chewed slowly, his mind clearly elsewhere.
The lavish spread before him had been meant for a celebratory feast, a victory party to revel in Argod's anger. But instead, the reality was a bitter reversal of fortune.
Another one of his wives, trying a different tactic, leaned closer and whispered, "Would you like me to dance for you, my king? I could perform the dance you love so much."
The first wife, not to be outdone, offered, "Or perhaps you need a song? I could sing for you, something to lift your spirits."
A third wife chimed in, her voice hopeful, "Do you want music, my king? We can play your favorite melodies."
Their voices were soothing, their intentions genuine, but Viperax remained silent.
With a sudden, rough motion, he grabbed his drink and downed it in one gulp, the liquid burning his throat and fueling his rage. He slammed the cup down onto the table with a loud thud, causing the plates around him to shake and the food to jostle. His wives flinched at the sound, their attempts at comfort clearly failing to reach him.
His wives fell silent, exchanging uncertain glances before turning their best smiles back to him.
One of them, braver than the rest, took a bold step. She reached out and held Viperax's hand, leaning her body against him seductively. Her other hand began to roam across his chest, her touch light and teasing.
"Your Majesty, perhaps you would like something more enjoyable… more intimate?" she whispered, her breath warm against his ear.
Another wife immediately moved to his other side, positioning herself behind him. She began massaging his shoulders, her fingers working deftly to ease the knots of tension. "A massage, maybe? I'm sure it will relax you," she suggested, her tone hopeful.
But Viperax's patience had worn thin. He brushed them off roughly, his annoyance clear in his every movement. "Get lost!" he snapped, his voice like a whip. His eyes blazed with anger, making it clear that any attempt to console or please him was a nuisance.
The wives recoiled, shocked by his outburst. They had never seen Viperax this furious before. Their usual confidence shattered, they lowered their heads in unison. "We apologize, Your Majesty," they murmured, their voices trembling.
Quickly, they bowed and retreated from the tent, leaving Viperax alone with his rage.
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