The Dragon Mine Creeping Ever Closer

* Before the Moderator posts the Ark Gallery upgrade notice. A location west of the Krantz Empire's territory. The Red Dragon Mortezar was spending another idle day in her dilapidated, cracked old castle. While waiting for her weekly allotment of two six-packs of beer.

"Why only two six-packs a week? It's truly agonizing..."

Greasy fried chicken. Salty pizza. And the fantastic beer from the shop that paired perfectly with both. But thanks to the Moderator's restrictions, even she—one of the five pillars upholding the world—could only buy two six-packs per person per week.

"Should I just go there myself and demand they lift my limit...?"

She didn't even consider revealing herself as the Red Dragon in the Gallery. Anonymity was essential for her enjoyable lurking. So, the only option left was a personal visit. She already knew the location, having detected a massive mana convergence there before.

Was it time for her second outing since the great cataclysm? Mortezar began seriously assessing her current situation.

Defending against the encroaching corruption was going smoothly. From her optimal position, she'd held it at bay for ages. Things were tough, but her pre-arranged measures kept her enduring. She couldn't block it all, but any intelligent beings within her power's reach would survive.

"It's stable. A stable state. But I must endure."

Having maintained balance in one spot for so long, a short trip was feasible anytime. The location was close enough that she even had a day's leeway. Still, one must prepare for the worst-case scenario. Mortezar couldn't ignore those possibilities.

For her selfish desires, she couldn't abandon the potential threat to the continent's intelligent races.

She could hold out on the beer. Just one more day, and she could buy her two six-packs. She had a greater duty—to guard against even the slightest risk. A tiny spark of danger, but she wouldn't turn away from it.

She'd already enjoyed every pleasure the world offered, so this sacrifice meant nothing. Such thoughts had sustained her for the past fifty years. Fifty years of sacrifice, and today was no different.

And it would have continued without the Moderator's notice.

The chime—a Gallery admin notice alert the Moderator was unaware of. At the sound that drew the attention of every intelligent being on the continent, Mortezar turned to the Gallery.

"The Moderator's posted a notice. What news does he bring this time?"

Mortezar checked the notice with eager anticipation. The Moderator always delivered intriguing updates. What would it be this time? New food? New booze? Or some unexpected gem? She read on, imagining the possibilities.

But the notice held not a shred of joy.

The Gallery would shut down at exactly 00:00 the day after tomorrow—for sixteen hours.

"Wh-what is this..."

Just one more day, and she could drink her beer. Right at midnight. But now that blissful time was pushed back to 4 p.m.

The realization sent her mana surging wildly. She nearly disrupted the mana barrier holding back the corruption in a heart-stopping moment.

This won't do! It would be a massive obstacle to her duties! She had to request at least a brief window to buy her beer!

"Hoo... I must calm down. Calmly comment on the Moderator's post with my request..."

As Mortezar hurriedly typed her comment, her frantic motion suddenly halted.

"No, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠wait. This is a first, but it'll happen again. Better to make sure it never repeats after this."

If it recurred, it would interfere with her duties. The Red Dragon Mortezar resolved on her second outing since the cataclysm.

*

"So... you're ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠here because of the beer...?"

In the bunker, the Hero, the Great Warrior, and even Sora baring their bellies in surrender. I'd given up resistance too, flinging the door wide to signal our capitulation. Pleased with the three beasts and one humanoid's submission? She ignored my earlier wariness from beyond the door.

And so, the great Red Dragon, Lady Mortezar, entered the bunker. Her purpose wasn't a house call—it was unrestricted beer purchases. Grateful to still be breathing, I listened intently to her words.

"Indeed. Your notice delayed my beer-buying time by sixteen hours."

"Of course we'd make an exception for you, Lady Mortezar. But..."

"Is there some issue? I'll accommodate whatever I can, so speak freely."

Granting privileges to one of the five pillars upholding the world? No problem at all. Refusing might bring every race on ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the continent demanding my head on a platter.

But one issue stood out.

It was her beloved Gallery nic.

'Breath-Holding Master'—the friendly nic under which the Red Dragon hid her identity, enjoying her curmudgeonly lurking. A sarcastic 'friendly' nic, really. I'd seen it often on brag posts with that grandpa vibe, but lately I skipped them. The old-man act was too on-the-nose.

"You want to keep your Gallery anonymity, right?"

"Hm? Naturally. Reveal I'm the Red Dragon, and the Gallery users won't chat—they'll just worship. I get enough of that in the real world."

That was the problem.

If I lifted her beer limit? She'd post brag threads daily. Users would notice. Then? 'Why's that guy hoarding and chugging beer?'

"Could you... not post about drinking beer in the Gallery?"

"I'll post."

As expected.

How to phrase this without offending her but still get a justification? Granting privileges carelessly was tricky.

I decided to address the issues one by one.

"If I grant you privileges and you post about them, users will get suspicious. Eventually, your identity leaks."

Mortezar let out an impressed "Hoo—" But she didn't seem surprised—almost like she'd anticipated it.

"Just as I pictured. You're a cautious one."

"I'll take 'cautious' as a compliment. Anyway, you seem to have expected this. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Got a solution in mind?"

I had one too, just now. But if she hated my idea, I'd be mod-meat. Proceed with utmost care.

"I picked one rep per race, remember? Honestly, I figured I'd end up in one of those seats myself."

Pardon?

"Who in their right mind puts a busy VIP in a spot like that?"

"You're standing before me."

Not yet, you haven't. I swallowed those words and continued.

"Ahem... so, to confirm: you're taking a rep seat in exchange for the privileges?"

"Exactly! I've been idling alone anyway, so no worries about duties. I'll handle it without burdening the others."

A perfect justification, plus service from a mighty dragon. It was almost too good, making me hesitate. Did she really need to brag? Skip the boasting, and she could just enjoy without the rep hassle.

Plus, a user volunteering for a rep seat? Total landmine.

One I'd normally dodge for sure... but

"Something not to your liking? Speak up. As I said, I'll heed your opinion as much as possible."

This landmine was inching toward me.

The dragon mine creeping closer, step by step. I felt my life in peril, so I accepted for now.

"Got it. Understood. So, please take a seat first? We have a guest, and I haven't even offered tea."

Hoping she'd stop, I tried tributing food.

"I'll prepare it. Lady Rain, please sit with Lady Mortezar."

Sora had slipped into the room, shifted to human form, and moved fast once the threat passed.

"Hoo, I didn't expect you here. Your mana signature's changed—I never guessed. Long time, child of the snow."

"It's been ages, Lady Mortezar."

They knew each other, apparently. Sora finished her greeting and headed to the kitchen for refreshments, leaving me alone.

"Back to business, then. I'll take a rep seat too, yes?"

"Y-yeah. Right? I'll just announce to the users that I picked someone reliable... You'll need to hide your identity, so speak in Moderator style in the Gallery. That okay?"

I asked, gripping my trembling hands. A sudden style shift might tip off users.

"So it seems. No issue—do as you wish."

The biggest hurdle cleared. I'd earned the right to speak casually to a dragon.

Gonna be one thrilling, nerve-wracking Gallery run.

"Tea is served. Please enjoy."

"Mm, thank you. Hoo... what's this pastry? Never seen it before."

Mortezar took interest in Sora's refreshments, pausing our talk to focus on the treats before her.

This visit was dragging on a bit longer.