The Fourth Guest - Former Guardian of the Dragon Vein (2)
As expected, Silver's attempt at repairs had failed.
"Sorry. My hand slipped."
"……"
Sarluk accepted the twisted harpoon from Silver.
Of course it hadn't been warped to begin with. Silver had carried it into the forge under the pretense of fixing it, and this was the result.
"……"
Sarluk looked as though he had plenty he wanted to say, yet with the other party being none other than the Jewel Dragon Diamond, he held his tongue.
The way he had lightly teased Rain earlier must have come from a certain familiarity between them.
But he and Silver were meeting for the first time.
He could hardly treat her with the same casual ease he showed Rain.
"Thank… you…."
Sarluk managed the words in a trembling voice and withdrew.
He was almost certainly not grateful in the slightest.
And that direction… looks like he's heading into a guest room to rest.
I found myself worrying he might shut himself in and cry quietly.
"You don't need to worry about that. Harpoons break often enough as weapons go, and that guy carries plenty of spares."
Rain, who had apparently read my thoughts, spoke while wiping her hands.
It seemed the hauling and butchering of the Calamity Drake had finished.
"Oh—if it's Drake meat you're wondering about, Grace is grilling it in the backyard right now."
"The backyard? Not the kitchen?"
"We're cooking it the way we always used to."
In other words… scaled for dragons.
"……"
I could roughly guess what she meant.
And I suddenly wanted to see it for myself.
"You're welcome to watch. It's not as if there's any special secret technique involved… though a human would have a hard time copying it."
Rain opened the door to the backyard as though it were nothing of consequence.
Eliona and Riaen seemed to share my curiosity and followed us out; Silver trailed after them, swallowing hard with an expectant look.
"You're out?"
Grace stood there, grilling meat over an enormous bonfire.
… Hmm.
The firewood for that bonfire is the lumber we collected for the daily quest. Using high-quality wood as fuel might feel wasteful, but we can always take… no, receive donations from the many treants around here, so it doesn't matter. And the meat…
It was shaped exactly like the classic cartoon cut of meat—thick bones you could grip with both hands, meat still attached.
"Grilling it on the bone like this and tearing it off with your mouth is the best way."
"Mm. In terms Master would understand, it has a good chew to it."
"Tearing it straight off the bone is the real deal…."
Well… if you say so.
With the three dragons recommending it in perfect unison, I found myself growing curious about the taste.
"Ah—I don't recommend humans try it."
Your teeth would break.
"… Ah."
So if it was tough enough for dragons to enjoy tearing into, that meant human teeth simply couldn't chew it.
"It's not just the chewing… human digestive juices probably couldn't break it down properly either."
"Right. I'll make sure nothing ends up in my mouth by accident."
While we were talking, Sarluk—who had been heading toward the guest-room building—emerged into the backyard.
"Is tonight's dinner Drake meat?"
The backyard was visible from the guest rooms; he must have seen the grilling and come out.
In his hand was not the twisted harpoon from earlier, but a fresh one.
He really did carry plenty of spares, and had simply drawn another.
"We were originally planning to eat it among the dragons, but do you want some too?"
"If you're offering, I'll gratefully accept."
From the way Rain invited him, this Lizardman Sarluk clearly possessed a bite force strong enough to handle Calamity Drake.
"Eliona. Bring some drinks for the four of them."
"Ah, yes!"
They had said it went well with alcohol; once the drinks arrived they would manage the rest themselves.
"Ah—I'll make dinner for the three of you as well. Rain unnie, finish up for me."
"Sure."
"And keep Silver unnie from touching anything. Got it?"
"… Why me…."
Judging by Grace's words, Silver had no talent for cooking either—only blacksmithing.
Leaving the final touches to Rain, Grace prepared dinner for me, Eliona, and Riaen.
"Prepared" simply meant plating dishes that had already been made and handing them over.
Sarluk slipped naturally into the daily rhythm of our inn.
He rose each morning, ate breakfast, and set out to complete commissions.
After finishing one and returning, he would eat lunch and chat with the people of the inn.
"Human employee. Are my webbed feet that fascinating?"
"Ah—was I staring too hard?"
"That as well, but humans seeing a Lizardman for the first time usually find the webbing interesting. Same with the scales."
Eliona and Riaen, who at first could not join conversations because they knew nothing of the Dragon Vein, had reached the point of chatting easily with Sarluk so long as the topic stayed away from it.
In the course of those talks he took an interest in this world's board game, Crownfall, and we even played a few matches together.
For the record, his skill at Crownfall was roughly equal to mine.
Both of us were complete beginners who had first picked it up here, so that was only natural.
"……"
"……"
"……"
Naturally, the others watching the two of us would be itching to offer advice.
They held their silence, however, claiming they could not interrupt a sacred match.
Sacred match is a bit much…
While we chatted, the commissions would refresh.
The timing was exact: six hours after the previous set had been completed.
It was a fact we had learned only because Sarluk carried out the work so diligently.
The moment the notices refreshed, Sarluk would tear every last one free and head outside as though he had been waiting for it.
Though when Grace's father and the other Gold Dragons visit, he leaves some for them instead of taking everything.
In that fashion Sarluk melted into the everyday life of our inn.
Then, one day—
"Is this the inn?"
"That's right! The grain here is clean!"
"It's been a while. I was delayed by some business along the way."
The Orc Mercenary Group had returned after a long absence.
"… There seem to be more of you than last time. Is it just me?"
I felt certain I had said something similar before, yet I found myself saying it again.
"It has actually increased. After fighting and defeating nearby tribes, we absorbed them and expanded. In the old days we could never have managed it for lack of food, but trading with this place has made our supplies plentiful."
That was why the journey had taken longer this time.
"I see."
I turned to look over the orcs.
Among them, several wore uneasy expressions.
Those must have been the ones absorbed after their original tribes fell.
And…
"There are a lot of wagons."
"With more tribe members, we intend to buy that much more."
The polite orc said this and summoned one of the wagons from the middle of the line.
"The seasonings, cloth, books, and recreational tools you requested. Also, since I regretted not being able to warn you we would be late, I brought a communication magic tool that will let you contact our tribe at any time."
At his words Grace stepped forward first to inspect the seasonings.
"… These would have been difficult to obtain in the Demon King's Territory, yet you've gathered quite a variety."
"We acquired them through a merchant group that maintains branches not only in the Demon King's Territory but in other countries as well."
Hearing that, Rain, Eliona, and Riaen also peered into the wagon.
"Wow—our entertainment options just exploded."
"This cloth… it's high-quality fabric ordinary people can hardly obtain. It looks like goods normally supplied to noble houses."
"Books from the Demon King's Territory…. They're written in a language I don't know…."
Rain brightened at the assortment of games and toys, Eliona marveled over the cloth, and Riaen murmured a little helplessly at the books.
"You've gained more employees. And the inn itself has grown a bit larger."
"It has."
"I won't ask what happened in the meantime."
Even seeing how noticeably the inn had expanded, the polite orc asked no further questions.
Perhaps he thought prying might drag him into troublesome affairs or sour our relationship and make trade difficult.
Or perhaps, like certain guests who had already realized I was a transmigrator, he too had noticed and simply chose not to comment.
… Or maybe he simply wasn't thinking about it at all.
"Ah—and we would like to stay at the inn tonight."
The newly joined tribe members were quite exhausted from the journey.
"Of course. Grace?"
"Yes. Eight to a room should work."
As if she had already counted the exact number of orcs, Grace finished her calculation at once.
"Eight… Understood. You lot over there!"
Grace and the polite orc began assigning lodgings.
The front of the inn was practically occupied by orcs, and the place had grown noisy—when a familiar voice cut through.
"I've returned after completing the commission."
Sarluk, who had gone out on a job, appeared dragging this commission's target.
"Hmm…?"
"Mm…?"
The polite orc and Sarluk locked eyes.
"Sarluk?"
"Brach Gul…?"
The two clearly knew each other.
"Why is a guy who ought to be stuck to that ruin standing here?"
"I've been released from that duty. But why is a grave robber like you leading a caravan?"
"I am merely the tactician. And it is not a caravan—it is a mercenary group."
"… You're a tactician? And you call yourselves a mercenary group when you've brought that many wagons? Doesn't look like an escort job. The drivers are all orcs too."
Brach Gul's expression grew subtle as the exchange continued.
"Certainly, at the moment we do seem closer to a merchant group than a mercenary company. We are simply here to trade with this inn."
He could not deny Sarluk's point.
Ending the short conversation, Brach Gul shifted his gaze to the monster Sarluk had dragged in.
"A Cockatrice? No—looking at the spines on its back, it's a Spine Cockatrice."
"Your eyes lighting up like that confirms you're a merchant. But this one's off-limits. It's something to hand over to the inn."
"Can you at least share where you caught it?"
"That much is fine…."
Considering the harsh words of a moment earlier, the two of them seemed to get along reasonably well.