Transmigrated with a Demon-Refining Pot: Hehehe, Refine in an instant

Ron was unaware of Margaret's current predicament; he was cleaning her dwelling, which was the valley where the snake people's tribe had originally lived.

The place wasn't too far away, but it was very secluded, a perfect hiding place for a hidden dragon.

Everything is ready, except for the dragon.

Ron plans to bring Margaret back this time.

"It's time to feed them," he murmured, gazing into the valley with deep eyes.

Ron stood at the bow of the ship, the original liquid in his bracelet was ready, which should be able to calm Margaret's restlessness.

He brought more people this time than before, but he didn't bring Little Pink Hair, as she was in the crucial stage of conquering Liulichuan.

After Ron planned to take the dragon back, he left these people on the island to mine silver day and night.

He also specially assigned two family knights, Robert Cabbage and Marcus Apple, to oversee these serfs mining and transporting silver.

If they do not make any mistakes, they will be included in the next knighting ceremony.

The next day, just as dawn broke and the ship slowly approached the deserted island, everyone heard a long, drawn-out dragon's roar.

Then they saw a giant dragon with bloodshot eyes, in a somewhat frenzied state, charging towards them.

The serfs who came on the ship were terrified. Some of them slumped on the boat, water seeping from beneath them.

The sailors were not calm either. Anyone who saw a nearly thirty-meter-long dragon angrily flying towards them would be panicked.

Fortunately, Margaret still had some sense. She stopped in front of the ship, her big eyes wide open, looking for Ron, that bad guy.

Ron heard the commotion and hurriedly came out of the cabin. As soon as he came out, he stared at Margaret.

In Ron's eyes, Margaret was different from before.

The silvery-white scales had lost their luster, covered in dust and pebbles, as if they hadn't been cleaned in a long time. There was a dark ring around the eyes, as if the person had been up several nights in a row and wasn't in good spirits.

Ron said awkwardly, "Well, there were some urgent matters in the territory recently that kept me from leaving, so I came over as soon as I finished dealing with them!"

"What's wrong with you? You look like you haven't slept at all," Ron asked, feigning ignorance.

What else could Margaret do? Could she say that Ron, that bastard, was untrustworthy and stood her up? Or could she say that her noble silver dragon couldn't live without Ron?

Ron could naturally see that Margaret was too proud to admit it. Not wanting to call her out on it, he half-coaxed and half-dragged Margaret to a secluded spot.

Back near her residence,

There are several fresh impact marks on the rock walls surrounding the boulder, with rubble scattered all over the ground.

Ron stood beside the rock wall, considerately refraining from asking what was wrong.

He first took out a bottle of concentrate from the bracelet, unscrewed the cap, and let the aroma dissipate.

Margaret's nostrils twitched suddenly.

Her blue eyes were bloodshot as she stared longingly at the small bottle in Ron's hand. Then, with lightning speed, she shoved the entire bottle, along with the undiluted liquid, into her mouth.

"roar……"

It wasn't a dragon's roar, it was a groan.

A moment later, she came to her senses, leaned her head close to Ron, and nudged his hand with her nose—not the gentle, tentative nudging of before, but a forceful, urgent one.

Ron could tell from her expression that she was about to act like a scoundrel again.

The blue eyes were filled with grievances. You can't refuse to give it to them. Can you see a silver dragon that's thirty meters long rolling around and acting cute?

It took Ron five bottles of the serum to calm her down, and she finally calmed down and was willing to listen to Ron.

"I'm not trying to be mean, but you're my good friend, so I'm willing to tell you the truth. I don't tell anyone else this," Ron said, seizing the opportunity to try and persuade him.

"Aren't you bored staying cooped up on the island every day? Do you know how wonderful the outside world is?"

"Every day outside, servants will brush your scales, and the meat will be roasted and brought to your mouth. They will roast it whenever you want to eat it."

Margaret stared wide-eyed, her face full of disbelief.

"Really! All you need to do is sunbathe every day, and if you want the undiluted serum, just trade it to me with some Warcraft items. Don't you trust my character?!"

Margaret's tail started wagging as she listened to Ron's description of the scene.

"You said you're on a small island, so far away from me. If I have something urgent to do next time and can't come, then I'll be completely helpless!"

"So? Are you coming with me or not?" Ron looked at her expectantly.

Her pupils contracted to a thin slit, then slowly dilated. She stared at him hesitantly for several seconds, finally nodding heavily as if she had made up her mind.

Ron was overjoyed. He had it!

Then, he took out about ten bottles of the original liquid from his bracelet and gave them to Margaret, who carefully put them under her scales.

Ron found her cautious demeanor rather amusing, but thankfully he didn't laugh out loud.

"Didn't I get a chance for a psychological battle last time?"

"What are your chances of success if I go now?" Ron asked in a slightly ingratiating tone.

Margaret turned to look at Ron, her expression seeming to say, "You want to go now? You?"

However, she did not refuse. Instead, she lay down, ready to have Ron form a contract with her and engage in a battle of wits.

Ron's heart started racing.

After completing a series of complex rituals, Ron slowly drifted into unconsciousness, his consciousness arriving in a pure white space.

There was no sound, no objects, and no up, down, left, or right.

Ron stood in the void when suddenly a huge dragon head appeared out of thin air in mid-air—it was Margaret.

Ron imagined he would face some terrifying trials—battles, illusions, and labyrinths of wisdom. He had heard that some dragons would plunge challengers into endless slaughter, some would reveal their deepest fears, and some would present difficult questions that would eliminate those who answered incorrectly.

He waited for a while.

Nothing happened.

"What's next?" Ron muttered.

Margaret's voice rang out in mid-air:

"You wicked little man, my name is Margaret Montgomery, remember that."

"snort!"

"My test is relatively simple. Hmm... first, cook me a meal."

Ron thought he had misheard.

"Cook?"

"Yes," Margaret's voice became assertive.

"Normally, I'd be testing your character, but you definitely wouldn't pass that. I'll have to find another way to get you through..."

Ron's face flushed red upon hearing this. Everyone knew Ron had an excellent reputation in the frontier. Everyone who came praised his kind and gentle nature! How come I'm not good enough for you...?

She's slandering me!

Margaret's face darkened; the little figure opposite her was definitely not a good person. He was actually chirping at her.

Doesn't he know that I can sense his general thoughts within the mental space?

"I've changed my mind..."