Thunder had already convinced himself that Paros was merely putting on a front.
With a sneer, he said arrogantly, "Paros, you don't need to keep pretending."
"Out of consideration for how well you treated the Thunder Domain in the past, I'll give you a chance. Kneel, acknowledge me as your master, and promise that the dragon clan will offer me half of its resources every year—along with ten eleventh-rank beast or insect cores."
"Do that, and I might spare your life."
As he finished speaking, his gaze shifted—and landed on Wen, who had just entered alongside Rory.
"The Merfolk King is here too? Perfect. Saves me the trouble of sending someone to your tribe."
Thunder's grin widened, growing more brazen by the second.
"From now on, I am the ruler of the three domains. Your merfolk must present tribute every year—one million pink pearls, ten million white pearls, one hundred thousand bolts of silk, and—"
He went on and on, listing demand after demand.
