Caesar's awakened talent was supremely beneficial, allowing him to draw upon the power of the blazing sun—a rarity even amidst the vast legacy of dragonkind. The sun, present across countless realms of the primary material plane, was a celestial body of primal origin and the wellspring of life. It was a concept, really, conveying illumination and banishing shadow, endowing the weak and wounded with vigor and health while destroying all that was dark and malevolent.
Some benevolent deific entities, in their quest to accumulate worshipers and augment their divine might, would seek dominion over solar power. The deity of light, for instance, whose extensive following spanned numerous planes and required even dragons to momentarily shed their pride and offer reverence, was one such god. Though their holy offices varied, thereby affecting the extent of their influence, the deity of light's solar investiture cemented his grand stature among the Forças of Good, and he tirelessly sought to preach the sun's new doctrines through his disciples—a radiant inspiration for the benevolent.
Solar authority often embodied a multitude of elementally aligned powers, particularly those designed to vanquish evil, rendering Caesar distinctly formidable against malevolent creatures.
As the projection of the Archfiend waned, Queen Glasya of Lust showed none of the rage one might have expected. Rather, her demeanor was oddly composed. As the ruler commanding legions of superior devils in the infernal hierarchy, she had broken many a steadfast spirit—not all knights of unyielding will could resist once their weaknesses were exploited. For beings of near-eternity like her, time was ample for taming even the fiery and defiant red wyrmling.
Glasya's parting words to Caesar's dragon form were cool and unhurried, "One day, you will succumb to the charms of a high succubus, and when that time comes, you shall be granted the 'honor' of licking my toes for a millennium."
A snarling laugh was Caesar's rejoinder, his internal vow vicious and clear: "At our next encounter, you will bow before me like the lowliest cur, worshipping every scale on my majestic red dragon hide—a fitting tribute from me, the Imperial Overlord of Red Dragons."
His disdain for those coveting his might was palpable, extending even to infernal dukes from the nine layers of Hell. As a potentate of the sixth, Glasya faced pressures of her own, caught in the endless blood war between abyssal demons and diabolical devils—a feud older than many a deity, embodying a cosmic equilibrium.
But the devilish intervention, though vexing, did little to dampen Caesar's spirits, for his conflict against the human legions had culminated in victory. The spoils of war were immense: thousands of enchanted arms and mystical incantations, not to mention the private hoards of arcane jewels—all immense wealth by any dragon's standard.
Under Caesar's watchful eye, his subjects set about tidying the field of battle. Having always had a keen sense for wealth, he wouldn't miss a solitary coin. The sight of his minions toiling with the bounty stirred in him the need for more attendants; their ranks had been thinned by the battle, primarily the magical beasts and Gnolls, and without them, procuring quality sustenance would be a challenge.
Comfort came in the form of faithful Cyrion, a savvy and loyal Jackalman. "Perhaps it's time to explore the southern territories," Caesar pondered, considering Amstel Blazebull's prosperous lands, rich with diverse, sagacious tribes.
The aftermath of battle took its time to clear, but eventually, heaps of magical armaments stood tall as the dragon himself. Amongst these, however, were but a hundred enchanted stones, concealed within Caesar's draconic scales for safekeeping.
The treasury was vast and overflowing, too great for any single horde ring to contain, and Caesar bade his followers transport the bounty to his volcanic lair. A watchful guardian was needed, and thus Aurelian and Diana, his companions and sentinels, had not partaken in the fray—a sixth-tier magical creature and a mid-rank enchanter, respectively, ensuring the lair's treasures remained beyond the reach of any covetous pilferers.
The dragon's hoard now rivalled that of elder wyrms, dazzling piles of magical gear worthy of Caesar's adoration, destined to be sold for the love of gemstones and gold—the true delights of any dragon, essential for prosperous growth.
In time, as the treasures were meticulously sorted, joyous news arrived: Aurelian had successfully laid a triumvirate of eggs, ensuring the dynasty's legacy.