Hana didn’t expect the den to be a palace, but as the heavy stone overhang of Caspian’s den came into view, her inner survivalist—the one that associated filth with infection and lack of discipline—felt a vein in her temple throb.

The cave was massive, carved into the side of a rough black peak. It smelled of sulfur, old musk, and the lingering scent of iron.

Scattered across the floor were ’treasures’ that any beastman would kill for, but they say all that glitters isn’t gold, right? And beauty was in the eyes of the beholder.

Yeah, and this beholder could definitely not see the beauty of these ’treasures’.

Not while it was all littered like filth.

Hana stood at the mouth of the den, her hands on her hips as she slowly shifted, her eyes scanning the interior with the cold, analytical precision of a scavenger finding a fresh ruins site.

To Caspian, this was his legacy. A testament of his influence. But to Hana, it was a biological hazard.

She clicked her tongue, and it made a sharp sound of pure disapproval.

Her gaze landed on a pile of White Wolf hides—prized for their softness—that were currently being used as a literal doormat, caked in dried mud and blood.

Beside them, a cluster of Raw Emeralds the size of her fist were scattered like common gravel, one of them sitting precariously in a puddle of stagnant water dripping from the ceiling.

How does the ceiling of a cave have a leak anyway?

Her eyes moved to the ’trophy’ wall. Massive Beast Bones were piled haphazardly, some still clinging to bits of rotted marrow that filled the air with rot and a sickly, sweet stench.

"What a waste," she muttered, her voice dripping with the kind of disdain usually reserved for someone who had just burned a week’s worth of rations.

"Waste?" Caspian puffed out his chest, looking around with genuine confusion. "Hana, this is the largest cave in the Forest! It contains the spoils of a hundred victories! These are the treasures of the Fire King!"

"It contains a hundred infections," Hana snapped, cutting through his pride like a serrated blade. She pointed a sharp finger at the rotting furs. "That goes out. Now. The bones go in a pit outside the entrance. And those shiny rocks?" She kicked a stray emerald out of her walking path. "They go in a corner, categorized by size, not in the middle of the floor where I can break an ankle."

Caspian’s jaw dropped, his golden eyes wide. "You want me... to move rocks? I am the Fire King! I will roar, and the Boar tribe will send twenty servants to—"

Behind him, Vane—who had been trailing them with the boar—let out a sharp, poorly muffled snort. His shoulders were shaking, and his hand was clamped over his mouth in a way that was far too obvious. He was clearly savoring the sight of his ’Apex’ and proud brother being ordered around like a hatchling.

The sound he was making as he tried to hold back his obvious laugh was annoying in this very situation.

Caspian’s head snapped toward his brother, his throat glowing a dangerous orange. At the exact same moment, Hana’s cold, brown eyes landed on the younger dragon.

"SHUT UP!" they yelled in perfect, terrifying unison.

The force of the dual command hit Vane like a physical blow. He froze mid-snicker, his face paling as the amusement died a quick, violent death.

Hana let out a long, weary sigh, rubbing the bridge of her nose.

"If you’re done being a spectator, get lost. Both of you. You’re taking up oxygen I need for the fire."

Vane and Sera didn’t wait for a second invitation. Vane dropped the boar and turned, bolting toward the lower tunnels, their tails tucked in a rare display of brotherly ’cooperation’ born of pure survival instinct.

They didn’t appreciate the human’s tone, but they appreciated Caspian’s mounting rage even less.

"Now," Hana turned back to Caspian, stepping into his space. "I didn’t ask the Boar tribe to do this. I asked you. If you can’t manage your own home, how are you going to manage me? Or what? Do you plan to make me one of your servants?"

The ’servant’ comment hit Caspian’s pride, but the glare hit his heart. He flinched, his tail tucking slightly as the orange glow in his black scales faded into a dull, pouting shade.

"I... I would never," he grumbled. He looked at the massive pile of treasures, then at his massive, clawed hands. "Fine. I will... reorganize."

> [MISSION ALERT: SANITATION & DISCIPLINE]

> Objective: Force the Dragon King to perform ’Lowly’ labor.

> Reward: +2,000 Karmic Points

> Penalty: -10,000 Points & [FOUL STENCH]

Hana ignored the blue screen and turned to Raiden, who was leaning against a pillar that looked like it had been carved with claws to make it thin in the middle, and was naturally connected to the ceiling.

He was watching the whole thing with a look of pure entertainment.

"Raiden, stop gloating. You’re helping me with the soap," she said, pointing to the boar carcass. "Caspian is busy being a ’King.’ You and I are going to make sure we don’t wake up with a rash tomorrow."

Sleeping in this filth, it would be a miracle to not have a rash in their insides just by breathing in the air of it.

While Caspian began the grueling task of dragging boulders and old bones across the cave floor, Hana set up a workstation near the mouth of the den.

She directed Raiden to carve a hollow space into a large piece of limestone to act as a bowl. She took the thick slabs of white fat from the back of the boar—the parts too tough to eat but perfect for rendering.

"Watch the heat," she commanded Raiden as she laid the fat on a hot flat stone over the fire. "If it burns, the smell will never leave your tail, and I’m not letting you near me if you smell like scorched lard."

Raiden nodded quickly, focusing on the heat as intently as he could.