You ducked as a particularly large ember singed your sleeve, but pressed on before the dragon's temper could fully ignite. 'Not commerce, Your Scaled Excellency - a dynasty. Imagine: lesser beings conducting trade beneath your banner, paying tribute in rare artifacts and firstborn sons to strengthen your bloodline.'

The molten gold stopped bubbling as Valthorix's massive head tilted. 'Firstborns...' he mused, licking his fangs. The abacus clicked more calmly now, showing a 15% decrease in eruption probability.

You unrolled a fresh scroll with trembling hands. 'We could establish trade routes along volcanic regions where only dragon-kin dare travel. Your name would be feared in markets and sung in legends.'

Valthorix's tail began swaying like a pleased cat's, his claws absently sorting a pile of enchanted weaponry. 'The Valthorix Merchant Houses...' he rumbled experimentally. 'And if these merchant-spawn prove disloyal?'

'Then they become examples,' you said quickly, gesturing to the volcanic channels below. 'Literally liquidated assets.' The abacus now showed a curious new calculation: PROJECTED REPUTATION GROWTH - INCINERATION-ENHANCED CREDIT SCORE.

A slow, terrifying grin spread across the dragon's muzzle as he exhaled a pleased plume of smoke. 'Fetch my scribes. And my branding irons.'