Chapter 37: Can We Make A Lot of Money Out of This Monster?

Chapter 37: Can We Make A Lot of Money Out of This Monster?"Do you think this would fetch us a lot of money?" Inigo asked, his voice calm and calculating as he stared down at the massive, mangled beast. Lyra didn’t answer right away. She crouched beside the wyvern, her eyes scanning its scorched hide and twitching limbs. The rhythmic, ragged breaths told her it was still barely clinging to life. "The claws alone would earn a decent sum," she murmured. "And its organs—especially the heart—are worth something to alchemists and mages. Not priceless, but rare enough to draw serious interest." Inigo’s brow lifted. "So not some ancient legend, then?" She shook her head. "No. It’s just... big. Strong. Rare. Elder wyverns don’t show up often, but they’re not sacred creatures or anything like that. A high-ranking predator. Dangerous, yes. Revered? No." "Then there’s no reason to feel bad about making some coin off it," Inigo said, his tone firming. Lyra didn’t argue. She stood and looked over the beast’s ruined form. "The hide’s thick with latent mana. A single sheet of it could be reforged into armor or woven into spell-resistant cloth." Inigo’s eyes lit up with interest. "How much do you think for the hide?" "I don’t know the exact price," she admitted. "But I’ve seen mercenaries paid gold bars for less. It’s just a matter of who’s buying." "Then we find the right buyer," he said, already unslinging his pack. "We’ve killed it. Might as well make the most of it." Lyra nodded silently and moved to the other side of the carcass. Together, they began cutting through what they could salvage. Blood steamed from torn muscle. The smell of burnt hide lingered in the air, acrid and metallic. Inigo used his field knife to pry loose a talon the size of his forearm. "You said these are worth something?" "They’re dense with natural anti-magic properties," Lyra said as she carefully extracted the creature’s heart, wrapping it in layers of waxed cloth. "Some use them in high-grade warding circles or as spell catalysts. Black markets, too." "That’s even better," he muttered. He moved with efficiency, carving sections of hide and tying them with leather cord, then packing them into the remaining horse’s saddlebags. It wasn’t graceful work, but it didn’t need to be. It just needed to be done before someone else showed up. "We don’t tell anyone we killed it," Inigo said. "Not until we sell." Lyra looked up from her work. "You’re worried someone might try to claim the kill?" "I’m worried about thieves," he said bluntly. "And bounty hunters. Word gets out we brought down an elder wyvern, even a rogue one, and we’ll have more than merchants knocking on our door." She nodded, then muttered, "Let’s finish fast, then." They packed as much as the horse could carry—heart, glands, chunks of hide, talons, and a jawbone the size of a sword. When they were done, the wyvern’s corpse was just a scorched husk. They stood beside it a moment longer, looking at their handiwork. Inigo exhaled and stretched his back. "That’s enough profit for a month—maybe more." "Oh it’s even more." With that, they turned and began their descent from the cliff, the afternoon sun warm on their backs, and the silence of the aftermath broken only by the wind whispering through the stones. For now, the hunt was over. The journey back to Elandra took the better part of one day. With only one horse between them, they alternated riding and walking, the heavy load of wyvern materials weighing down the saddlebags. Neither of them spoke much. They were exhausted, still riding the aftermath of adrenaline and calculation, and more than anything—they didn’t want to be overheard in the wilds. When the familiar stone walls of Elandra came into view, Inigo let out a low breath. The city shimmered under the late afternoon sun, its banners rippling lazily in the breeze, unaware of the carnage that had taken place far beyond its horizon. As they passed through the city gates, a few guards gave them curious looks—especially at the bloodstained sacks tied to their horse—but no one questioned them. That was the good thing about adventurers: people expected them to come back covered in blood, carrying strange things. By the time they reached the Adventurer’s Guild, the sun was dipping low, casting long shadows across the cobbled street. Inigo pulled his hood slightly lower, nodding to Lyra. "Let me do the talking," he said. "I was going to let you," she replied. "You’re the one who talks like you’re playing five games at once." Inside, the guild hall buzzed with early evening activity. Soot-streaked mercenaries and robed bounty seekers gathered around tables, discussing quests and trade. The scent of roasted meat and pipe smoke clung to the air. Elise spotted them first. She straightened from behind the counter the moment she saw Inigo and Lyra walk in—especially when she noticed the blood-slick canvas rolls hanging from the saddle. "You’re back," she said, stepping around the counter to meet them. "You don’t look dead. That’s good." Inigo gave a short nod. "Windspire Cliffs is clear. Nest destroyed. Wyverns culled." Elise’s eyes flicked to the saddlebag. "That doesn’t look like just a wyvern claw." Inigo didn’t flinch. "There was an unexpected complication. One of the wyverns had drawn the attention of something bigger." "Bigger?" "A rogue elder," Lyra added calmly. "It attacked while we were securing the nest." Elise’s brows rose. "You killed an elder wyvern?" Sёarch* The novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. "Technically," Inigo said, "we defended ourselves, then it fell into a gorge after we wounded it. We salvaged what we could." Elise crossed her arms, expression unreadable. "You’re telling me the two of you brought down a high-ranking wyvern on top of completing the B-rank subjugation quest." "That’s what we’re telling you," Inigo said with a small, tired smile. For a moment, Elise said nothing. Then she turned back toward the ledger at the counter and opened it. "Report, then. Quest complete. Three gold upon confirmation of nest destruction, plus your initial two gold already paid." She began counting coin as Inigo pulled out the marked map and set it down on the table. "Nest was here," he said, pointing. "Three adults. Cleared. Confirmed eggs destroyed." Elise slid the coin across the counter. "And the elder?" "We’re not registering it," Inigo said evenly. "At least not as a formal bounty. It wasn’t contracted, and we don’t want the attention." Elise raised an eyebrow but nodded. "Smart. You’d have scavengers crawling over you by nightfall." She handed them a parchment. "Officially, Windspire Cliffs is cleared of wyvern activity. You’ll be posted on the guild board as the team responsible. Expect more job offers soon." "Noted," Lyra said. "And the spoils?" Elise glanced again at the bags. "What are you going to do with them?" "Private buyers," Inigo replied. "We’ll go through backchannels. Quietly." Elise gave a knowing smile. "I might know a few people who’d be interested. Alchemists, enchanters. They won’t ask questions." Inigo tilted his head. "You get a cut?" "Five percent." "Three." "Four. Final." He extended his hand. "Done." As she returned to her post, Lyra leaned in slightly toward Inigo. "We’re really trusting her?" "She’s sharp," he said. "And she doesn’t want our business ruined. She gets her cut, and we keep moving." They exited the guild shortly after, coins in hand, the sky now a canvas of stars. They walked in silence until they reached the stable, where the horse was unburdened and brushed down. Then, finally, Lyra broke the quiet. "What are we going to do with the rest of the carcass? You know people might find it." "They’ll find bones," Inigo said. "Charred and empty. We took what matters." "And the next step?" "We make contacts. Sell the parts. Maybe invest in better gear." Lyra looked at him. "You mean buy more ridiculous weapons." "Gold doesn’t buy me weapons that I use. I was thinking of a lodging." "You mean a house." "Yes."