Let You Be The Queen!

The poor girl, with her cherubic face, plump little arms, and rounded calves, seemed an unlikely target for such cruel intentions. Who could harbor malice toward such an innocent, particularly one with a small, rounded belly? Surely not a creature as grotesque as the servants suggested, deeming her unsightly. The dragon, accustomed to the beauty of human girls akin to those depicted in the opulent portraits adorning his study, found the transformation of his maids into what he termed 'pig girls' utterly intolerable. It was a degradation far worse than any act of treachery; it was a personal affront to his taste and authority.

In his opulent manor, where only a handful of maids served, the notion that someone would dare distort their appearances was more than he could bear. The very thought of someone being responsible for such a deed was enough to incite his wrath, better they remain unknown, for their safety depended on it.

Meanwhile, the young dragon, indulging in a feast of grilled octopus and barbecued meat, was initially amused when she stumbled upon the evil dragon's furious scribble: [Who the hell raised my watery maid into a pig girl?]. Her laughter, however, was short-lived as a sobering thought struck her.

Ever since her transformation into a dragon, her appetite had surged dramatically. Within just a few days of her captivity, she had devoured an array of meats with voracious enthusiasm. Now, as she nibbled on a sizzling piece of octopus followed by a roasted beast leg and then octopus balls, a troubling realization dawned on her. Could her insatiable hunger lead her down a similar path? Would she, upon reverting to her princess form, become the very 'pig girl' the evil dragon so despised?

The fear suddenly made the succulent octopus and juicy beast leg in her claws lose their allure. Once a princess renowned for her slender figure and impeccable proportions, she now faced the prospect of returning to the imperial capital far removed from her former self.

If she transforms back into a princess resembling a "pig girl" due to her excessive indulgence, could she ever face her scornful sister without becoming the butt of ceaseless mockery? She imagined the derisive nicknames that Athena might gleefully bestow upon her: "Pig Emperor," "the Fattest Emperor in the History of the Empire," and mockingly, "Rich Emperor." The thought of such a future made the young dragon grimace as she forced down another mouthful of meat.

As she held the sizzling octopus and roasted beast leg, her dilemma deepened. She craved the delicious, hot meat, yet fear of her sister's taunts made her hesitate. Was the momentary pleasure worth the enduring ridicule? Meat, after all, loses its appeal when cold, she mused. To eat or not to eat? Finally, she rationalized that her physical activities demanded substantial energy—surely the meat was justified?

Her thoughts were interrupted by a lengthy message from her loyal servant. "[Master Viscount, remember, the land nourishes its people robustly. Your maid has thrived on the bounty of your land, feasting well and gaining vitality. Moreover, Lady Ingrid wishes to display the prosperity of your territories. Unconsciously, she tends to eat more in routine gatherings. After two years, this has led to her noticeable change in appearance.

Ingrid has informed me of her plans to begin exercising. By the time you return, she promises to transform back into the lively maid you remember.

As for the alliance with Grand Duke MacDonald, it was a decision of necessity. The capital sought to strip you of your title, and despite our best efforts to negotiate, their intentions remained firm. Thus, aligning with the Grand Duke seemed our only recourse to protect your interests.

Over the past few years, we've gradually transformed our lands into the idyllic haven you've envisioned. We've renovated the Viscount's Mansion, renamed our town to Shenglan, and fortified it with walls and moats.

Everything is improving, Viscount. Return to us. You've dedicated yourself to your subjects; now, let them show their gratitude.

Your forces are ready: thirty regular knights, ninety trainees, three hundred elite soldiers, and nearly a thousand in reserve. If needed, every inhabitant is prepared to bear arms and defend your legacy.]

Lance read through the message meticulously, ignoring the occasional expletive. He understood now why Ingrid had taken on the appearance of a 'pig girl.' It was not a matter of negligence but an unintended consequence of prosperity and care.

"This watery maid has a certain charm about her," the lord mused with a hint of affection.

However, when it came to the development of his territory, he wasn't particularly invested. His primary concern as the human lord of the region was straightforward: ensure that his people were well-fed and not on the brink of starvation.

"In terms of military strength," he explained, "if the people eat well, their vitality and strength will naturally bolster."

He had lingered in the territory for several years before his departure, primarily because he wanted to ensure the humans were capable of self-defense. "As their lord, I believed it was my duty to leave them prepared," he reflected, feeling justified in his role.

Notably, he had never exacted a single gold coin in taxes from his subjects, though he admitted to having squandered thirty gold coins himself. "That scoundrel from the kingdom really duped me back then," he grumbled. "It was my own fault, tempted by minor gains which led to a major loss."

Yet, he didn't feel overly aggrieved. The discovery that his subjects were willing to rebel to defend his title was unexpectedly touching. "Where did such loyalty come from?" he wondered aloud. After all, he had purchased his title and lands with mere money, expecting little more than nominal allegiance.

"They're remarkably fierce," Lucia observed. "They even risked their lives to protect your title."

"I never anticipated such dedication. Would you believe that?" he asked.

"I believe it," came the affirmation.

To the evil dragon, the allure of a title in the human realm was minimal. He had ventured into the human world and assumed the role of a viscount for the sheer amusement of it. "With my capabilities, I could have been a marquis or even a grand duke," he boasted.

"Then why not return to see how your subjects fare?" Lucia inquired.

"I dare not," he confessed. "I can't afford their wages, and I fear they might thrust me onto the throne in their fervor."

"Is that even possible?" Lucia wondered, puzzled by the prospect.

"Perhaps, then, let the young dragon take my place. She seems quite taken with the idea of being a queen," he suggested with a sly grin, ready to pass on the mantle to someone perhaps more eager to embrace it.