Episode 7

They loaded the basilisk onto a carriage and visited the Adventurers’ Guild. The unusual pairing of a former knight and a noble-looking boy drew the eyes around them.

“Welcome to the Adventurers’ Guild. How may we help you today?”

A young woman at reception greeted them with a smile. Hiroto idly thought a silly thought—so even in this world, looks get you hired.

“We’d like a monster butchered. We’ll take the parts we need; sell the rest.”

“Understood. Where is the monster now?”

“We’ve parked the carriage near the butchery. The monster is a basilisk.”

The busy guild hall fell silent the instant the word “basilisk” was heard.

“—Eh, a basilisk… sir?”

“Yes. A dragonkin basilisk. I get the surprise, but you’ll understand once you see it.”

Told by two sudden arrivals that they had slain a dragon, the receptionist was at a loss. Around this town, not even dangerous monsters—let alone dragons—appeared often, so the shock was natural.

“V-very well! I’ll check with the person in charge at once.”

Not only guild staff but rubbernecking adventurers had gathered at the butchery.

“No way. There really is a dragon…”

“And frozen solid, too. What the hell?”

Adventurers murmured, bewildered by the fact that a dragonkin had been slain.

“It appears to be the poison-dragon basilisk, no mistake. The two of you defeated it?”

A man—likely the receptionist’s superior from earlier—took over.

“Yes. We froze it to prevent the corpse from rotting. We’ll thaw it before butchering.”

“Understood. You’ll take the required parts and sell the rest, correct?”

“That’s fine. But make it quick.”

“—But butchering a dragonkin will take some time. We’ll need at least five days.”

This town’s guild had no know-how to dress a dragon properly. Dragons didn’t exist near this peaceful town, so no one bothered to learn a useless skill.

“…As soon as possible, then.”

Brink understood the situation. Showing up and asking for a dragon butchering would take time; understanding that, he couldn’t force them.

“What are you dithering about? Do it now. That’s an order.”

Zeke, silent since they’d entered the guild, spoke testily. Brink was used to it, but those around them widened their eyes at the boy’s insolent tone.

“Zeke-sama, this is impossible. All the more so if no one here has the skill.”

“Impossible? Who decided that? No personnel? Then bring them here.”

Surrounded by many adults or not, his usual caustic words flew out without concern.

“…This is the Adventurers’ Guild. We remain neutral, bound by neither nation nor status.”

“I know that much. I know you don’t move without compensation.”

The staffer’s face twitched. Noble brats sometimes caused trouble, but this level of attitude was a first.

“In that case, please follow the rules. No special treatment.”

“Then you didn’t listen. Everything except the parts we need—you can have it, free of charge.”

At Zeke’s statement, the mood shifted again. Some looked around, thinking they’d misheard.

“…You must be joking. Do you not know a dragon’s value?”

It was a fair question. Dragon materials had countless uses—weapons, armor, magic tools; sometimes even noble furnishings. Anything made with dragon parts was first-class, so the material’s value was far above the rest.

“Idiot. I know that better than you. Are you doing it or not? Decide quickly.”

Normally a dragon-slaying commission earned a hefty reward—because dragons were rare and hard to kill. Including the material buyout drove the sum even higher; but even so, the guild would profit greatly. That was how special dragons were.

“…I will fetch a superior. Please wait a moment.”

“Whatever—just hurry. And understand: if the materials are mishandled, you won’t get off lightly. Heads will roll… literally.”

It ended up roping in the entire guild, but the deal was set. They left after telling them they’d return at the same time tomorrow.

“I’m giving this to you.”

“And this is… what?”

Zeke handed over documents sealed like a formal letter.

“Once you’ve confirmed delivery of the materials, take this to the Apothecaries’ Guild with it. It details a specific remedy for mana sclerosis.”

“—! The formula… for a specific remedy…”

Brink was so shocked he was at a loss for words. A solution he’d never found no matter how long he searched was in his hands.

He’d only told Zeke about his son yesterday—how had he done this much so fast?

“If they start squawking like those lot just now, hand over the formula as-is. Free of charge.”

“…Why go this far for me? We’ve barely known each other. To you I’m no different from any commoner—worse, I’m from another lord’s land.”

He had to ask. What made it worth doing this much? There had been mortal risk. Why would he go so far for a son he had never even met?

“You think I act without a benefit? The debt will be costly. That’s all.”

“Of course… I will repay this debt without fail.”

“…There’s no guarantee he’ll be cured. And don’t tell my parents anything. It could stir up unnecessary trouble.”

(Why hide his deeds? If he seized the remedy’s rights, he’d gain enormous wealth.)

As the son of the famously greedy lord of Lagias, Brink had expected the same mindset. But once the lid was off, he found a boy who, beneath harsh words, constantly watched out for others—and at times staked his own life.

(I see—this young lord puts the people first above all. That’s why he won’t tell his parents. Lacking real authority now, a clash would only breed certain friction.)

How much resolve and conviction did he carry, though still a child? Could Brink do the same in his place?

“What are you loafing for? Get the carriage moving. My parents will get suspicious.”

At first, Brink had simply felt excited for the boy’s future—thinking he might one day achieve an unprecedented feat.

But now he sensed a certain precariousness behind that strength. Because he was so keen, he refused to rely on others and tried to shoulder everything alone.

What was he aiming at, and what did he intend to accomplish? If possible, Brink wished to witness the end of the boy’s path—together with his son.