104 Curse of being Handsome!

Under the cloak of night, the soft snores of the dragoness filled the cave. Bruce, lying at a distance, couldn't suppress a triumphant smirk, admiring the naive trust Weima had placed in him. "Her experience in the intricacies of dragonkind politics is wanting," he mused, pride swelling within him at his intellectual prowess.

Tomorrow would mark his departure, for Weima's reserves had dwindled to a pittance, barely sufficient for another day's indulgence. Yet, as Bruce felt the power of his consumed treasures coursing through him, a sense of contentment washed over him. The thrill of such gastronomic conquest was unmatched, providing more than mere sustenance—it was a joy unparalleled.