Farming in a Parallel World and Becoming a God-Chapter 127 - 99: Love Around the Corner_2

It’s not that the throaty tones were unpleasant, but when mixed into the merry melodies, they seemed distinctly out of place.

However, what were flaws in Gaven’s eyes were completely natural to the Gnolls’ ears, because their own speech also had throaty tones, only much shriller, not the deep resonance of a Giant Dragon, but rather a somewhat falsetto bark.

They swayed their heads and became thoroughly enraptured.

Yet the more Gaven listened to Artolia’s poetry, the stranger he found the lyrics.

No matter how he heard it, it seemed like mockery, playing with a certain target.

Before Gaven could figure out what was going on, the young dragon’s poetry was nearing its end, and it was time for him, the star host, to shine once more and call out loudly, "Lord Aivensa, was that pleasant to hear?"

"Pleasant."

This time, the Gnolls had found the atmosphere and feeling, and honestly, even if the young dragon’s poetry was still on point, they would have praised it just the same even if it were a pile of dog shit under these circumstances.

"Would you like to hear more?"

"Yes."

"Then, how about another song?"

"Let’s have another."

The cooperation between those on and off the stage became smoother and smoother.

It wasn’t that the Gnolls had suddenly become more perceptive; it was because Gaven, in order to foster the mood, had quietly sent his Spirit Crystal Servant Artolia to find Bark and have him synchronize with him from the crowd.

Once someone takes the lead, the rest can easily follow suit with shouts.

"It’s hard to decline such hospitality, Lord Aivensa, perhaps you would grace us with another song," Gaven turned his head to see there was no need for his own prompting; the young dragon was already eager to continue.

Out of consideration for decorum, he had refrained from being kicked off the stage.

What was ostensibly a solemn transfer of authority event had been turned by Gaven into a personal concert for the young dragon.

One song followed another.

No one seemed to tire of singing or listening.

After all, it was a True Dragon performing for them.

A Red Copper Dragon naturally has a desire to perform, and Gaven catered to this, stimulating Artolia completely with just the right atmosphere of excitement.

For someone like Gaven who doesn’t stir without profit, this was a multifaceted windfall.

Catering to their tastes was only one aspect.

On the other hand, it increased Artolia’s accessibility to the public, providing her with more opportunities to interact and engage with other Gnolls.

The Gnolls’ reverence and fear of the Giant Dragon came not only from their nature but was also self-imposed, especially since they had never seen a dragon before and the first encounter could easily lead to overwhelming situations.

Once the veil of mystery is lifted, fear naturally diminishes greatly.

After this personal concert by the young dragon, Artolia could now walk through Eagle Nest Burrow without the Gnolls kneeling wherever she went.

Another benefit was the diversion of the young dragon’s attention. Artolia’s interest had been piqued by Gaven’s skit, and she kept steering conversations that way. If he didn’t give her something more interesting to focus on,

he would have no other duties in the future except for when the young dragon would pop up and pester him to tell jokes or perform skits, which would be nothing short of a headache.

Gaven’s triple-strike hit all its targets.

The young dragon, having found a new toy, did nothing else the following days but stand atop Eagle Cliff and sing loudly.

At first, the Gnolls listened as if spellbound, squatting below.

But as time passed, one by one, they started to slip away.

There was no helping it; even the most beautiful poetry couldn’t fill their bellies.

Most of the Gnolls were quite responsible and at least remembered that they had work to do.

Once finished, during their free time, they’d wander back to listen to the free performances by the True Dragon.

Once accustomed to anything, it ceases to be a wonder.

In this regard, Artolia wasn’t too particular.

Even alone, he sang cheerfully, let alone now with so many spectators.

With so many Gnolls, there would always be some who had the time to gather around.

The Eagle Cliff Burrow Chieftain Chester waited with bated breath, anticipating Gaven to make significant moves against his tribe, even bracing himself for a possible disastrous mix of blood between Eagle Cliff Burrow and the Blackwell Tribe.

But Gaven had no intention of doing so.

The only major action was pulling three hundred Gnolls who were adept at digging and mining from Eagle Cliff Burrow to support the Blackwell Tribe’s mining work.

The rest was a constant stream of resources from the Blackwell Tribe, with food making up the bulk.

The Gnolls of the Eagle Cliff Burrow saw a sharp rise in the quality of their meals from that point on.

Chester didn’t know if it had reached the level of the Blackwell Tribe, but compared to before, the improvement wasn’t just by a notch or two. Every Gnoll was satisfied with their meals, and their regard for Gaven rose steadily.

Most importantly, the number of ordinary Gnolls in the Eagle Cliff Burrow was also rising rapidly. In less than a ten-day, they not only compensated for the three hundred dispatched by Gaven but even had an excess of over two hundred.

Eagle Cliff Burrow was already the largest Gnoll Tribe around Eagle Cliff, previously constrained by the Harpies.

Not only was this menace eradicated in one fell swoop, but now they even welcomed a True Dragon into their midst, and their standard of living continued to soar. freeωebnovēl.c૦m

The surrounding Gnolls flocked to them like flies to a scent, eager to join.

This was still Gaven being wary of the Young Red Dragon, not wishing to attract its attention too soon.

Otherwise, with the Young Dragon by his side, a simple tour around the surrounding valleys and calling out a few times would have been the true explosion of population.

...

Nothing troubled Roderick as much as mockery. Each insult, each syllable of laughter, grated on him like a grain of sand under his scales, it annoyed him, it itched him, until he covered it up with a protective layer woven from surging hatred.

Most of his animosity was now directed at a youngster who dared let her lair get too close to his Young Red Copper Dragon, a whelp named Aivensa.

This self-important individual delighted in enraging him and always managed to dodge his wrath, striding away as she chanted her monotone insults.

Every day, Roderick spent hours plotting his revenge on Aivensa, imagining all the ways he could pull her guts out, lingering especially long on that cursed tongue of hers.

That damnable creature disappeared for more than two ten-days recently, allowing Roderick a rare moment of respite.

He couldn’t help feeling smug, wondering if his near-miss during the last chase, almost splitting the whelp with one swipe, had terrified her enough to scurry from his territory, never to dare appear before him again.

Once more, Aivensa popped up, right in front of him, claiming to have composed a new poem and wanting his appreciation.

Just hearing one word set Roderick off, raging like thunder. This little scoundrel was inventing ways to humiliate him.

If he could twist her head off and display it in his nest, what a delightful scene that would be, worthy of his appreciation.

But as usual, this whelp was slippery.

Despite his greater speed, each time he chased her, she used her smaller size and more agile maneuvering to dart into the complex terrain of the Rocklands, vanishing before his eyes. When he turned around, she would be mocking him from a distance.

This time was no different. After a chase, Roderick once again lost her.

This wouldn’t do.

He couldn’t continue this mindless pursuit; it only added to the mockery from those whelps.

He needed to come up with a way to trap that little creature. It didn’t require much time – just a few seconds. Even without any time, he could grab her by the neck and wrap her damnable tongue around it a few times, tearing it from her mouth.

Then, he wanted to see if she could continue her incessant noise.

But how to trap her?

Just as the Young Red Dragon was scratching his head, a figure emerged leisurely from another valley, humming a newly conceived song as it flew.

Two dragons locked eyes.

It was an unexpected encounter.

Neither the Young Red Dragon nor Aivensa anticipated it.

With so many valleys around, who would have expected the other to choose this one?

Truly, it’s like running into a beloved around the corner.