638 How could there be a dragon at the bottom of the sea?

"That girl…"

Madman let out a long sigh. Shirtless Bradley wandered over, snatched the cold beer right out of Madman's hand, and chugged it down in a few deep gulps.

"Ahhh… why does it feel like we're basically living the retired life now?"

Bradley patted his shamelessly ripped eight-pack, belched, and muttered, "What if Orson comes back and says we've just been slacking off this whole time?"

"Screw him. Who knows if he's alive or dead? Either way, it's none of my damn business."

Madman curled his lip in disdain.

But as his gaze drifted toward Sienna, there was a hint of relief.

He finally understood why Orson had said she was the most suitable person to lead the guild.

Under Sienna's command, it had taken them less than a week to steamroll through the Dark Dragon Empire.

Not because the Godslayer army was so overwhelmingly savage—rather, because this little fox had mastered the art of scheming to a frightening degree.