You swallow hard as the dragon's molten gaze bores into you, the heat making your formal robes stick to your back. 'Your Excellency,' you begin carefully, 'what if we approached this as a temporary trial? I could personally safeguard a small portion of your hoard - under your watchful eye, of course - to demonstrate how strategic diversification might work.'

The abacus stops clicking. The entire cavern holds its breath. Then Valthorix lets out a rumbling chuckle that shakes loose a shower of gemstones from the ceiling. 'A bold proposal, soft-skin. Very well.' His massive tail sweeps across the treasure pile, sending a golden wave crashing against the far wall. 'You may guard... this.' A single copper coin rolls toward your feet, still warm from dragonfire.

As you bend to pick it up, you notice the faintest tremor in the mountain beneath you. The coin bears the sigil of an ancient empire long since crumbled into dust - and something else. Etched along the edge in microscopic script are words that make your blood run cold: 'Whosoever spends me shall inherit my debts.'

Valthorix's eyes gleam with amusement. 'Problem, financier?' he purrs, smoke curling from his nostrils. The abacus suddenly starts recalculating at impossible speeds, its beads glowing red-hot.