Unexpected Visit (3)
In truth, the Surpuk Duke was one of those who still regretted the suspension of the previous team battle.
He'd especially wanted to see just how far the quick-witted Owen could go.
But with no choice, he'd had to postpone it—until the perfect opportunity arose to set the stage.
"What do you think?"
"For my part, sir, I'd be thrilled to face off against the dragons of the 1st Dragon Stable. But the 5th lacks any medium dragons. I worry it won't make for a proper match."
"No need to fret. We'll ensure the opposing team fields only small dragons as well."
"But this is a display of might for the queen's benefit. Surely we need at least one or two medium dragons?"
"True enough, but even a single medium dragon would overwhelm the 5th."
"Then allow us to borrow strength from the 3rd Dragon Stable."
"Ho? The 3rd?"
The Surpuk Duke's expression lit with intrigue.
"Yes. They have two medium specimens."
"But both are old and past their prime. They couldn't stand against the 1st's dragons."
"Your Grace, even on the battlefield, seasoned veterans often best young, hot-blooded recruits. Why should dragons be any different?"
The 3rd Dragon Stable boasted an exceptional talent named Finn.
He was the man who'd given the prince's team fits with mere common dragons.
Owen had taken an interest in him before; this seemed a fine chance for collaboration.
"Very well. If you're so confident, I'll expect great things."
"My thanks, Your Grace."
"Truth be told, this match puts you at a disadvantage. Win it, though, and I'll grant a handsome reward. What would you have?"
"Gold coins, naturally."
"Ha! What a materialistic rogue."
Owen's obsession with gold stemmed from no mere greed.
It was all for acquiring better dragons.
Unlike his past life as Duke Glendower, flush with wealth, he now had to scrape and save every coin.
"So be it. You'll have your gold—if you put on a pitiful show, though, I'll strip you of every last asset."
"I'll give it my all. Then, may I request the 3rd's cooperation in Your Grace's name?"
"Ah, of course..."
The Surpuk Duke trailed off mid-sentence, then broke into a mischievous grin.
A wicked gleam rose in the old man's eyes.
"Heh heh heh. I'm not sure that's possible."
"Pardon? It's Your Grace's stable—what do you mean?"
"You'll see when you get there."
"But—"
"Bah! Just go, you fool! You'll find out soon enough."
The duke even waved him off like a bothersome guest.
Owen desperately wanted to press for details on the crucial 3rd's aid, but he had no choice.
Stepping outside, he tilted his head in puzzlement.
"What in the world...?"
Could something have happened to the 3rd Dragon Stable?
Worried, Owen canceled his other plans and raced straight there.
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The 3rd Dragon Stable sat isolated on the city's outskirts, too.
Unlike the fortress-like 5th, it resembled a row of rustic farm sheds.
Owen sought out its manager, Finn, at once.
"Well, if it isn't you! Come in, Sir Leire."
Finn greeted Owen warmly.
He typically held nobles in low regard, but the previous match had earned Owen his respect.
"Finn, forgive my unannounced visit."
"Nonsense. I hear you've been raised to junior baronet—congratulations."
"Thank you. I've come with a proposal."
Owen explained the upcoming dragon match.
He couldn't mention the dark elf queen, so he called it a bout before lofty VIPs.
"His Grace will attend as well. I'll be facing a team from the 1st Dragon Stable."
"A stunning tale. But the 5th has no medium dragons, does it?"
"His Grace has limited each team to one medium dragon to account for that."
It was a 5-on-5 team battle: four small dragons and one medium per side.
"Hm. We still need that one. Have you a plan?"
"That's why I'm here, Finn."
Owen requested the 3rd's aid for the match—a joint team, in essence.
"...An intriguing offer."
"His Grace approved. But he said something odd before I left."
"What?"
"I asked if I could request your cooperation in his name, and he said he wasn't sure it was possible."
It struck Owen as utterly bizarre.
All Bris's dragon stables belonged to the Surpuk Duke.
Whose permission could he need if not the owner's?
Finn's face twisted oddly at the words.
Owen knew then he was missing something.
"There's a reason, isn't there? Would you tell me?"
"Of course, Sir Leire. The 3rd Dragon Stable is no longer His Grace's property."
"What? How?"
"Simply put, new ownership. Someone bought the whole stable outright. It's not public yet, of course."
The unexpected news left Owen dumbfounded.
"Bought it? Is that even possible?"
"Unprecedented, but not impossible. Anyone in Bris can raise dragons."
He wasn't wrong.
But only the duke could bear the dragons' immense upkeep—and the emperor's scrutiny.
"...Ahem. Who bought it?"
"They'll be here soon. Why not wait and meet them?"
"I'd like that."
Naturally, Owen waited.
He burned with curiosity over who had the gall to buy a duke's stable.
Come to think of it, if one of His Grace's counts took it over, it wouldn't be so strange. Just a shift in management and funding—still under his command, ultimately.
Owen found his reasoning plausible. He pondered if it might be Count Bobert or Count Russell.
One's approach would differ by who it was.
But even braced for anything, Owen froze at the unexpected arrival.
"No...?"
Riding in was a girl Owen's age.
Flanked by two knight escorts, she wore her usual wig.
Gazing at her, Owen spoke.
"Lady Tia."
It was none other than the Surpuk Duke's adopted daughter, Tia.
She typically hid her status in maid's garb, confined to the inner palace. Why venture out so far, with guards no less?
Her attire befitted nobility.
"Sir Leire."
Tia dismounted, as if expecting him.
"You have words for me? I'll prepare a place."
Her face was impassive, but her manner polite.
"...Please. I'd be grateful."
"This way."
Tia crossed the stable with familiar ease.
They soon reached what seemed her office. Owen asked at once.
"Are you the one who bought the 3rd Dragon Stable, Lady Tia?"
"Yes."
"But how...?"
As Owen trailed off in disbelief, Tia explained calmly, her face betraying no emotion.
"I paid His Grace for it. Remember the dividends you gave me?"
"Yes."
Tia had once outfoxed the duke for coin and passed it to Owen.
He'd offered half back, but at her request, he'd bet it instead.
The match's cancellation returned it untouched.
She'd seemed scheming something then—but this?
"Even so, that sum alone couldn't buy a stable..."
"I added my own savings."
Owen broke into a cold sweat at her casual tone.
How much money does this girl have?
She was the only child of the East's overlord, after all.
Whatever her hidden circumstances, her wealth made sense.
"His Grace permitted it readily. Weren't you in hiding?"
"Circumstances changed. He'd sheltered me till now, but his mind seems shifted."
Owen had no insight into her situation.
She wouldn't tell him anyway, so he pivoted.
"Why a dragon stable, though?"
"Does a woman owning one strike you as odd?"
"No, not at all. I simply wonder why you took an interest."
Gender meant nothing to Owen.
He needed to know this future partner's mind.
"I see. Truthfully, I've loved dragons since childhood. I'd read tales of valor and dreamed of becoming a dragon knight—Duke Glendower especially."
"...Duke Glendower."
A strange feeling washed over Owen.
But he couldn't reveal himself as that Glendower reborn.
He listened quietly.
"Yes. But I lack the talent. Embarrassing as it is, I only recently managed to ride a saddle horse."
"No shame in that. Everyone has their gifts."
"True. I once lamented my sluggish body, but not anymore. I have talents the nimble lack."
"Indeed, your wits in fleecing His Grace left even this Owen in awe. Extorting gold from the East's tyrant... Not even an orc great chieftain could manage that lightly."
Tia, ever stoic, cracked a faint smile.
"Is that so? Better than an orc chieftain—high praise in these parts."
She continued: unable to become a dragon knight, she'd resolved to command many instead.
A true lord's daughter, through and through.
"Why choose the commoner-led 3rd, though?"
"Good question."
Tia's eyes sparkled for the first time, as if she'd awaited it.
"To emulate Duke Glendower!"
"Pardon?"
"Don't you know? In life, he made dragon knights of any talented soul, noble or not. A truly noble man."
"Ah, now that you mention..."
It rang a bell.
But less from nobility than wartime desperation—hoard every apt rider he could.
I'd drag reluctant ones to the saddle by force...
Surrounded by foes, he couldn't spare a single knight.
No mercy for commoners.
If they whined, he'd stuff their mouths with gold. Later complaints about home? A title shut them up, then he'd work them for life.
Thus, Owen had been dubbed a soul-buying devil in the wars.
Old sins resurfaced; cold sweat beaded.
Blissfully ignorant, Tia fervently praised her idolized hero, Duke Glendower.
"His memoirs and epics prove he was ahead of his time. Promoting by merit alone, unbound by birth—his open mind captivated me as a child."
It was pure fandom.
Thankfully, she interpreted his deeds in the rosiest light.
"Talents abound among commoners, Sir Leire. The 3rd's showing in the last match especially impressed me."
"It was impressive. Facing them myself, I felt chills more than once."
"I'm glad to hear it."
This confirmed it.
Tia was an ardent Glendower devotee, bent on rising in the dragon world.
Like his past self, she'd nurture talent regardless of birth.
The scary part? She just might succeed.
Smart enough to fleece the duke, with the East's apex as her father.
Owen pitied the East's commoners anew.
If she truly emulated Glendower, she'd scour every village, buying souls with gold and titles.
With deep unease, he asked.
"Lady Tia, you know Glendower's methods in detail?"
"Of course! I've read his books hundreds of times. His talent-spotting especially—I can do exactly that."
In that moment, Owen saw it in her eyes.
The same manic collector's zeal as his past self.
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