The Natural Empire of the Oceanic Dragon

The next morning, when the Half-goat person rubbed his head, aching from the hangover, and stood up, he found himself actually sleeping under a large tree by the lake, not far from the Fishmen tribe.

“Hiss, how did I get here? Didn't I get drunk and fall asleep at the Centaur tribe yesterday?”

At this moment, ripples appeared on the water surface not far from the Half-goat person. Attilan burst out of the water, throwing the two large fish and miscellaneous aquatic products he had caught in front of him.

“This morning, you weren't awake after I finished meditating, so I just grabbed you and flew to the Fishmen tribe, and then went into the water to catch fish.”

The Half-goat person immediately widened his eyes and pointed at the Fishmen tribe, questioning:

“You just left me here, what if those barbaric Fishmen caught me and ate me alive!?”

“Don't worry, although I was catching fish underwater, I was always paying attention to your situation. Besides, with my scent, they wouldn't dare to approach. Moreover, I also left something to protect you.”

As he spoke, a verdant vine extended down from the big tree and nudged the fish, shrimp, and crabs.

“Are you sober? If you are, hurry up and deal with these fish, shrimp, and crabs.”

“Plant manipulation! You actually learned this spell, amazing!”

Marvelling at Attilan's progress, and knowing that he wasn't abandoning him, the Half-goat person took out a dagger and began to clean the fish scales, while suspiciously asking:

“I did promise you that I would help prepare the ingredients, but you didn't need to run all the way to the Fishmen tribe to cook, right?”

Attilan smiled slyly.

“Did you forget? Last night, you promised me that you would use all your skills to help me conquer these ignorant bumpkin Fishmen with delicious food.”

The Half-goat person tried hard to recall what exactly happened last night, but the Centaur's strong liquor had too much of an aftereffect. He couldn't remember what happened at all, only remembering drinking, drinking, drinking non-stop, and then blacking out.

It seemed like he really did promise Attilan something in between.

The Half-goat person carefully processed the ingredients, and Attilan continued to say:

“Last night, I also drank some of the Centaur's strong liquor. This kind of liquor, brewed with a mix of barley, wild grapes, and spices in oak barrels, has a truly unique flavor.”

“I think it can be sold as a commodity to the Halfling town.”

The Half-goat person rolled his eyes at Attilan.

“You didn't need to tell me that, the Horse King has already been doing business with the Halflings for a long time. Also, all my spices were used for yesterday's bonfire party. You brought me directly here, how can I cook without spices?”

“The forest has everything, you say what you need, and I'll go find it now.”

Attilan sincerely thanked Old Bear Head. It was obvious that this forest had been carefully laid out by this Archdruid, otherwise it would be impossible to find so many kinds of fruits, nuts, and spices.

The quantity of spices wasn't large. The Bearmen only used them to satisfy occasional cravings.

However, after the intelligent life forms who later migrated to the forest discovered these spices, some who were good at planting picked some seeds and planted them near their habitats. In addition, birds accidentally ate them, and the scale of the spices gradually expanded in the forest.

“Just the ones I used yesterday will do, you should recognize them, right?”

Facing the Half-goat person's suspicion, Attilan confidently raised his head.

“Who do you think is in front of you? A dragon's sense of smell can easily distinguish which spices you used yesterday, just wait.”

Before the Half-goat person could finish processing all the ingredients, Attilan returned with all kinds of strange spices.

The Half-goat person frowned and asked:

“Besides pepper, chili, turmeric, mint, and rosemary that I recognize, the rest… you're not going to tell me that they're all spices too, are you?”

Judging from their appearance, these fruits, leaves, bark, roots, and branches all exuded a peculiar fragrance, and theoretically, they should be able to be used to make dishes.

But there was a very crucial problem, the Half-goat person didn't know how to use them. Using spices randomly was worse than not adding spices at all.

“Why did you bring back the peels too?”

Seeing the Half-goat person's expression, he knew that this chef was just a half-baked amateur. He didn't know how to use most of the spices he had brought back.

“These are all good things, next you just follow my instructions to use these spices.”

“You?”

Facing the Half-goat person's distrust, Attilan said with a dark face:

“I am a druid, nature will tell me how to use these spices!”

He had a hard time finding this tangerine tree in the forest to get these dried tangerine peels, because his claws weren't suitable for handling such delicate operations as tangerine peels, he even specially asked the Bearmen for help.

The tangerines were quite sour, but that was because they didn't get good care. Attilan, who liked to eat tangerines, believed that under his cultivation, the tangerines would definitely be revitalized.

Holding a tangerine in his hand, the Bearman communicated with nature and obtained knowledge related to citrus fruits. Although there weren't as many varieties as Attilan mentioned, hybridizing two kinds of citrus fruits could really produce a new variety.

Especially after eating Attilan's clay pot stewed chicken with tangerine peel, the Bearman also fell in love with this spice, and scattered a few tangerine seeds in the open space in the forest.

Many druids know what effects plants have, but they don't think divergently. Which druid would think of using tangerine peel and tangerine leaves as spices to make delicious food?

Today, when Attilan returned to retrieve the dried tangerine peel, the Bearman learned that he wanted to use delicious food to subdue the Fishmen for his own use. The Bearman immediately felt that Attilan was very different from other dragons.

It's rare for a dragon to be so fond of eating, and also research planting and breeding. When he sees a new variety, Attilan's first reaction is actually, can I eat it? Is it delicious?

The Bearman gradually believed that Attilan's subjugation of the Fishmen was genuine. He felt that it was more convenient for him to act alone without a tribe. Planting aquatic plants wasn't real, but planting fruit trees, spices, and raising giant lizards, pheasants, and wild boars was definitely real.

However, subduing the Fishmen must start with raising fish, right?

Originally, he thought that the special thing about the Ocean Wyrm walking the path of the druid would be his talent, but now looking at his personality, the Bearman felt that his realm had actually loosened slightly.

Attilan used a fire spell to ignite the gathered dry wood. After becoming a druid, finding dry wood was a cinch, and he no longer had to worry about not finding enough dry wood.

The split open fish meat was smeared with spices, tied up with wooden sticks and vines, and erected. The flames slightly licked the surface of the fish meat, and the fish meat slowly turned golden brown. A rich aroma spread towards the Fishmen tribe as Attilan flapped his wings.

However, even after the fish meat was roasted, not a single Fishman came out to investigate the situation.

The Half-goat person held back his laughter. You still want to bribe the Fishmen with delicious food, but as a result, no Fishman came out to support you. Now I'll see how you, little dragon, end this.

Unexpectedly, Attilan flew directly towards the Fishmen tribe.

“Fishmen, come out and talk!”

Born for ten days, ever since becoming a druid and starting to meditate and absorb the natural force, Attilan's size, which had originally slowed down its growth, began to grow again.

The majesty and aura he now exuded were no weaker than some juvenile dragons. Attilan believed he could intimidate this Fishmen tribe full of the old, weak, sick, and disabled into submission.

Accompanied by a loud dragon roar, an old, scale-shedding Fishman, leaning on a wooden staff and wearing strange aquatic plants and bones and scales, walked out of the village tremblingly.

“Great dragon, I don't know what you want us to do for you by visiting our humble Fishmen village?”

“You've also seen that I need some followers to work for me. Follow me in the future, and you'll eat good food and drink good drinks! The food prepared just now is a gift for you to meet, but…”

“If you don't want to, I won't force you.”

After speaking, he aimed at a wooden stake on the river bank and breathed dragon breath. The blue-white lightning turned the entire wooden stake into charcoal, and the meaning of the threat was self-evident.

“We agree, we agree, it is our honor to become the followers of the great dragon.”

The old Fishman laughed loudly. He knew very well that since a dragon stood up to take them as his subordinates, they had no possibility of refusing.