King Maker
"Uh...?"
On the wide clearing, the wyvern's corpse suddenly appeared on a massive waterproof tarp that seemed made of modern non-woven fabric. Griham, who had just tilted his head wondering where the wyvern egg was, froze with a dumbstruck expression as his gaze locked on.
Given the incomprehensible foreign object called the Tower, there might be spatial abilities besides mine, but as Haron had said, storing something overwhelmingly huge like a wyvern corpse was exceedingly rare. Griham, wearing a stunned look for a moment, turned to me with trembling eyes.
"Y-you have a subspace, sir...?"
"Yes. I came by it unintentionally, but thanks to it, we got this overly generous result, so... all's well that ends well, right?"
"Ah... haha..."
At my words, Griham shifted his focus back to the wyvern corpse right in front of him, his initial shock at the subspace secondary now, composing a calm expression. He was trying to manage his face, adjusting his posture this way and that to maintain some noble dignity, but the intact wyvern corpse was such a rare relic—even Haron could barely recall seeing one—that despite his first impression, an aura straight out of a greenhorn started seeping out.
His eyes darting busily as if pretending otherwise, hands clasped tightly to hide their trembling from shock and excitement, desperately trying to calm down.
This kid... Even without much experience at his age, a noble handling it this well is rare... Should I join his faction and just turn him into a kingmaker?
If the kid was like this, his parents must be outstanding too. Why not sweet-talk him into making Griham, the heir, emperor of the Empire? He'd probably bite.
Having the philosophy of treating people according to their abilities was basically the same as ignoring the worthless. With his status as a border count, the Reinhardt family surely had plenty of influence and military power. Dark ambitions toward them welled up inside me.
For now, I'll think about it while selling the wyvern corpse...
The suddenly appeared wyvern corpse was far beyond the scope of the egg commission Griham had come for. Given their first impression and the Empire's wealth, selling the body would normally have to go through them anyway. I smirked faintly, glancing at Griham's back as he let out a small gasp of admiration.
"Y-you little shit...!"
In the midst of it, Haron suddenly called out to me in a quavering voice.
I knew exactly why he was freaking out, so I shot him a look laced with annoyance.
"What is it, old man?"
"Where's our pretty girl's t-tail?!"
At his shocked tone, I immediately looked toward where the wyvern's tail should be—and sure enough, there was a clean cross-section near its rear, no tail in sight.
Memories with Tier, not long ago, bubbled up, making my mouth water.
"I ate it."
"W-what?"
"I ate it. Chopped it up nice, threw in veggies and spices, stewed it good."
"..."
"...It's the king of the skies, right? Had to taste it. Honestly, it was delicious... smack."
Recalling the memory, I smacked my lips, and Tier, who had sidled up beside me to watch, wagged her tail wildly and gulped.
Remembering her crazily latching on and licking that eat-sized portion brought a fond smile to my face.
"Phew... Fine. Some adventurers won't rest until they've eaten what they kill. Can't be helped..."
Haron muttered that, lips pursed bitterly. Back when I sliced it up, I'd vaguely sensed this hassle coming and it bugged me, but he'd gotten over it easier than expected. I scratched my head awkwardly.
Honestly, I didn't eat that much, but why sell off all the premium parts? Gotta stock some for emergencies anywhere, anytime.
Sure, right now there were no dedicated smiths for high-grade monster parts, so even the Empire dealt through middlemen, but eventually, all crafting would happen under my roof.
I could already picture dumping materials into automated SF-world facilities and mass-producing gear like a factory. That's why I'd stashed the tail—and before the topic circled back, I spoke up to change the air.
"You've all seen and felt enough side stuff, so let's get to the main point? You're all busy officials, right?"
With that, I pulled the wyvern egg from my Inventory and handed it to Griham.
He took it almost like I was shoving it off, swallowing hard as he stared.
The corpse was one thing, but long-term, the egg held immense value too. Griham pulled out something like a large carrier he'd brought for this, placing the egg inside.
A massive magic stone-like thing embedded in the center extended mana, drawing geometric magic circles that activated.
Like this era's 'handle with care' shipping box...? Looks straight out of the Magic Tower.
In the real world, it would've been sleek magitech blending mechanics and magic elegantly, without the flashy effects, but this fantasy flair was nice too. I opened my mouth for the real deal.
"Sorry, but I want to mention first that I'm after something other than the agreed gold."
Griham, who had been putting the egg away and taking gold pouches from his attendant, paused.
Normally, demanding different payment after the deal was incredibly rude—like smashing the table. His servants, lowborn nobles, glared murderously as if some lowly adventurer was overstepping, but Griham raised a hand to stop them, nodding amiably without a hint of displeasure.
"The egg payment is entirely up to me anyway, so tell me the payment method you want, Berg."
"Oh... You sure?"
He chuckled softly, glancing sideways at the wyvern.
"Heh. With the massive deal of that corpse in front of you, gold for the egg is pocket change. No pressure—speak freely."
"If you insist..."
I pretended to ponder, recalling the time with Haron and the Elixir of Filial Impiety, then spoke.
"Money-wise, as you said, I'll never be strapped for life, so what I want is something special—a unique item, like an otherworldly object."
"Sp-special items or otherworldly things...? Hm... Like an artifact?"
"More than artifacts, I'm drawn to unique foods or elixirs with history, like the World Tree's fruit wine."
"Ah..."
The Elixir of Filial Impiety from the World Tree fruit was infamous enough that Griham sighed in understanding, looking embarrassed, then frowned like it gave him a headache.
"This is tricky... Didn't expect a collector's request from you, Berg... I said money's no issue, but those are in family or imperial vaults—can't bring them out."
"...Then...?"
"Those otherworldly relics, treasures, horrors—all stored in family or imperial vaults, no exceptions... Ah! If you're okay with it, why not come to our estate? We can discuss the corpse too."
If he had full authority over vaults, Griham was surely the top heir, next in line for head. No collections? Bullshit.
If he just wanted the corpse, best was claiming shares in imperial/noble bids. But using the egg as excuse to slyly invite me home for exclusive whole-body trade—sucking up before the palace—showed his ambition. Sensing his upright ideals hid power lust, I grinned brightly and nodded.
"Sounds good. As a guest of the count's family, it'll be quite the experience. Haha."