Dragon's Egg (4)
Of course, Albert hadn't judged this egg based on mere intuition.
He remembered a report from the duke's territory mentioning that orcs in the Eastern Plains revered red dragon eggs as sacred.
'It looks extraordinary at first glance. This has to be the one from the rumors. No other egg could have such a blazing hue. I've seen countless dragon eggs in my life, but this is the first like it.'
Albert was determined not to let it slip away.
Owen, catching the greedy glint in his eyes, slipped in casually.
"This is quite the egg."
He said it while pretending to examine it closely.
Albert's expression soured immediately.
The dragon trader Tasson, standing nearby, jumped in quickly.
"What fine discernment, Sir Leire. Though you may not know much about eggs, we've had our eye on this one for some time."
"I see. Hmm... it's intriguing."
Owen played along.
Albert couldn't hold back any longer and raised his voice.
"Come now! You can't just buy an egg like that on a whim! From what I hear, your Fifth Dragon Stable is strapped for cash. Why gamble on something so risky?"
"Hmm... is that so?"
Owen pretended to concede while raving about how magnificent the egg was.
"But look at this color and size. It's bound to hatch something incredible."
Naturally, it grated on Albert's nerves.
He forced down his irritation and asked Tasson,
"So, how much is it? We need a price to judge if it's worth recommending to Sir Leire."
He was dying to know himself but dragged Owen into it.
"It's not for sale at the moment."
"Hmm?"
"All these eggs, including this mystery one, will go to auction."
The word "auction" made Albert curse inwardly.
'Greedy bastards. Why not just sell it outright? Someone else might swoop in after seeing it.'
Albert quickly tallied how much money he could muster.
Funds from Count Russell, steady embezzlement from the Second Dragon Stable, and loans from a moneylender he knew.
It wasn't a small sum.
'That should be enough to win the auction.'
Watching Owen gaze at the egg in rapture only fueled his competitive fire.
He absolutely refused to let Owen have that dragon egg.
'From what Russell said, that guy's special budget is 500 gold. If I pool everything, I've got a solid shot.'
As the stable manager, he had reasons for using personal funds to buy a dragon.
It wasn't just charity for the Second Dragon Stable's growth.
Investing private capital granted a stake in the dragon—a long-standing tradition of the Suffolk Duke's house to attract civilian funding for more dragons.
Before the great purge, wealthy individuals often pushed their purchased dragons into stables via managers.
It was an investment in war.
If the dragon earned merits or spoils, the investor took a cut.
'Not a bad deal. Skirmishes are picking up in the east again. And above all, owning a dragon not even the First Stable has—that's the best part.'
With his mind set on that red egg, Albert saw the situation in an endlessly positive light.
Self-justification had begun.
Buying this egg seemed like a brilliant move to astonish the First Stable and stick it to Owen.
'Heh, looking forward to the auction. And since it's a mystery egg, there won't be many bidders.'
Albert planned to feign disinterest and snag the red egg at auction no matter what.
"Hmm?"
But Owen was staring intently at another egg.
Albert wondered what caught his eye.
Soon, though, he couldn't suppress a sneer.
It was an astonishingly shabby egg.
Albert put on a knowing air.
"If you're eyeing that one, forget it."
"Why's that, Sir Albert?"
"Look at this pathetic thing! Check the surface—those filthy stains are mold marks. They tried scrubbing it, but they can't fool these eyes."
Dragon eggs needed proper humidity to hatch.
That's why they sat on damp sand even now.
But excess humidity bred mold, which killed eggs.
The real problem came after mold appeared.
Humidity was essential for hatching, yet it spread the mold.
Drying it out risked desiccation.
A no-win dilemma.
Mold-ridden dragon eggs were thus a red flag.
"It's mold, sure, but it's been like that since we found it. We've taken measures since, and it hasn't spread further."
Tasson defended, but Albert scoffed.
"Hah, Tasson! So you're saying it's fine? To me, this egg's already doomed!"
"Ugh... I can't deny the risk, but... it's truly a rare specimen..."
"Enough. Sir Leire, I won't stop you if you want it, but work on that eye for the future."
Albert basked in showing off his knowledge.
He felt smug teaching the young pup a lesson in experience.
But even as Albert strutted, Owen gave a perfunctory reply.
"Understood."
And understandably so—he was entranced by the shabby egg before him.
'What is this...'
Owen could read its info directly.
Thus, he knew the true nature of what others saw as a moldy dud.
Subtype: Stellatus
Potential:D-rank
Gender: Female
Status: Healthy
Notes: Albino variant
Owen bit his lip involuntarily.
D-rank potential wasn't the issue.
It was an extremely rare albino variant.
It would surely fetch a fortune.
This venture was about turning a profit anyway—not finding a mount for himself.
Potential didn't matter.
'My god... I have to get this. Despite the mold, it's still healthy. I can handle it with my skills. And besides...'
An albino—successful hatching meant jackpot.
'Don't let it show.'
His mind raced with pricing strategies for this special dragon, but he fought to keep a straight face.
Instead, he checked one thing.
"This one's going to auction too, right, Sir Tasson?"
"Of course, Sir Leire. Control the mold, and it'll hatch something amazing."
Tasson still hoped for a big payout, but it was futile chatter.
"I'll head out first. See you at the auction."
Albert strode toward the entrance, ignoring the rest.
He needed to meet his moneylender pronto.
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Three days later, that evening.
The auction went ahead as Tasson said.
Only invitees could attend, and surprisingly, more merchants from other regions than dragon knights showed up.
They planned to resell the eggs in the Empire's west or north for profit.
Owen clicked his tongue inwardly.
'Auctions used to be packed with dragon knights... Now they're too broke to come.'
A few intact knights were present, but not many.
"Sir Leire."
Albert approached, acting familiar.
Dressed flashily, he brimmed with confidence.
He'd secured ample funds for today.
"Sir Albert, you've arrived."
"Good to see you. Got a special egg in mind? Last time, nothing seemed your style..."
He trailed off, probing.
Wondering if Owen still coveted his red egg.
Owen decided to reassure him.
"As you said. Still, came to watch."
"Ah? Smart choice. Experience like this is valuable. As your senior, advice: don't splurge early. You'll regret it later."
"Thanks for the wisdom."
"Good. I've got an appointment—catch you later."
Albert soon joined a stunning woman; Owen didn't recognize her.
Tasson, nearby, explained after noting Owen's look.
"Moneylender. Lady Arhana—famous in Bris."
"Ah, got it."
"Useful contact, but don't borrow lightly. Rumors say she's a black widow spider."
Owen nodded, eyes following Arhana's retreating figure.
Then she glanced back, meeting his gaze.
Undaunted by the first meeting, she flashed a crescent-moon smile before vanishing with Albert.
An alluring beauty.
Yet something nagged at him.
"Hmm... feels familiar somehow?"
But she was a stranger.
No reason it should, so he dismissed it.
"We'll begin the auction."
At the auctioneer's call, Owen took his seat.
Eggs came up one by one, bids flying.
Mostly verified breeds, with occasional mysteries.
But Owen saw every detail clearly.
And so on.
Each had unique traits.
Some struck gold blindly; others wasted fortunes on duds.
The room heated up.
Owen waited calmly amid it all.
For his target eggs.
"Oh!"
Someone gasped.
A massive red egg, 50 centimeters across, appeared.
Extraordinary at a glance.
"This one's a mystery. Size suggests medium breed. Many bids, please."
The unknown type drew regrets.
"Damn! Looks amazing, but ruined."
"Don't touch it. Pure gamble."
"I know."
Mystery eggs deterred bidders.
Too risky.
Big investment, failed hatch—disaster.
They knew it was special but hesitated.
Unlike prior mysteries, its base price was high.
"Starting at 50 gold!"
Complaints erupted.
"Ridiculous! Unknown egg at 50 gold?"
"Right?"
No quick bids.
Cheaper mysteries had sold easily.
This could climb endlessly.
Bad bet could bankrupt.
"Heh!"
Albert smirked amid the caution.
'Idiots. No eye for value.'
He firmly believed this red egg would change his life.
His orc-sacred guess had become conviction.
"Here..."
Albert raised his hand to bid.
But a voice beat him slightly.
"150 gold!"
Three times the base.
"What?"
"Who?!"
People panicked, spotting the bidder—and groaned.
"That guy?"
"Leire family's son!"
Albert was most shocked.
He hadn't expected Owen to target it.
'I spelled it out so clearly!'
Worse, Owen smirked at him.
No trace of the humble junior from moments ago.
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Owen said it loud enough on purpose.
"Looks like I'll take this egg. I can definitely hatch it."
Albert bristled and shouted.
"Sir Leire, that's arrogant! What makes you think only you can?"
Owen grinned slyly, provoking.
"Who knows? If you're so confident, bid and talk big after. Sir Albert."
"No reason not to. 200 gold!"
Albert jumped it by 50, glaring triumphantly.
Owen raised his hand.
He knew Albert wouldn't quit yet.
"250 gold!"
Albert paled instantly.
He'd banked on cheap pickup amid no competition—till this punk crashed the party.
Grind!
His teeth ground in fury.
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