In the world of the Witcher.
Nobles held lofty status—true Celestial Dragons.
Especially Her Highness the princess.
No matter whose invitation he might snub, he couldn't snub Princess Adda's; she was the most favored woman in the realm.
Otherwise King Foltest might dispatch an entire army to drag him back and avenge his beloved daughter.
After returning to Vizima.
Guilliman finally had time to tally the gains from his swamp expedition.
First, counting the drowners cleared near the wharf on day one, he had earned a little over a hundred points of soul power and more than four hundred orens.
Next, he had spent about ten days in the Vizima marsh. The first three were mainly for scouting, with few monsters slain.
Only those twenty Salamandra bastards had yielded roughly two hundred and fifty points of soul power; the two low-tier mages alone had provided a hundred.
But the following week—slaughtering on the wyvern isle—had been the real bumper harvest.
Fifteen wyverns, each averaging about a hundred points of soul power, slightly less than the 125 from the two in Ammonite Village, still a rich haul.
Add twenty wyvern eggs worth fifty points apiece and his total take from the Vizima marsh came to twenty-eight hundred points of soul power—utterly terrifying.
Of course, he hadn't absorbed those twenty wyvern eggs.
Though merely draconids, intact draconid eggs were extremely valuable; whether sold to mages or to wealthy collectors they fetched sky-high prices ordinary folk could never obtain.
One egg was promised to the dryad girl Ibul; to taste the dryad beauty he couldn't break his word.
Sadly, soul-rich treasure spots like wyvern isle were far too rare.
Dragons themselves were scarce; even these lowliest draconids were seldom seen in such numbers again, even in the game.
Only occasionally might one or two adult draconids be found deep in the wilds; truly sentient great dragons had long become legend.
Elites like leshens, higher vampires, greater specters, and elemental giants were equally sparse, never appearing in packs.
Usually only one or two existed per region, making large soul gains impossible.
Guilliman sighed, eyeing the system panel's total of eighteen hundred points—both pleased and wistful.
As expected, only common, densely packed low-tier monsters—drowners, necrophages, endrega insects—could fill his huge soul deficit.
He still had to grind, scouring the world for quick leveling.
Elites were nice, but low-tiers kept you fed.
Only two days remained until his rendezvous with Princess Adda.
He had no intention of entering the palace to face that feral, tempting princess.
Otherwise, given the hunger in her gaze, they'd likely tear into each other the moment they met—and Foltest's hidden guards would catch them in the act.
How the king, who doted on his daughter, would deal with him then was anyone's guess.
Even if Foltest were broad-minded, he probably wouldn't want his daughter tangled with a Witcher.
If they were going to bed, it couldn't be inside the palace; it had to be discreet.
With that in mind, Guilliman first headed to a smithy in Vizima's Temple Quarter: the famed dwarven forge "Little Mahakam."
From veteran dwarf resident Black Axe, he had learned it was run by McLenn Sten, the finest smith in Vizima.
But he came not for weapons or gear—only to unload wyvern materials from his storage.
Dragonhide, fangs, claws, bones, sinew… all should fetch good coin.
Fifteen wyvern hides could craft several dozen suits of scale mail; though inferior to the one he wore, they'd still command high prices.
Reality, however, was cruel.
The most famous dwarven smith in Vizima told him wyvern hide, while excellent, had few buyers.
Even if forged into top-grade armor, it wouldn't sell.
Thus the dwarf wouldn't purchase the bulk of Guilliman's stock; even for Zoltan or Black Axe's sake he'd take only a fraction at rock-bottom prices.
The legendary "high price, no market": precious goods no one could afford.
Guilliman sighed, wondering how to sell his loot, when he thought of Valesa—the elf girl he adored—and behind her the mighty, beautiful Elven Queen.
Dol Blathanna was rebuilding and would urgently need such military-grade materials.
Since the city offered no market, he'd lower the price for the elves—perhaps swap some of Francesca Findabair's magical items.
Half a month had passed since he left Ammonite Village; too soon for soul training, yet he already missed Valesa's perfect body.
An elf beauty's long legs and soft abs held a strange allure for him… In the underground chamber beneath Ammonite Village.
Fortune favored the Witcher: Francesca Findabair happened to be in the village.
He briefly recounted his city exploits and the wyvern-isle massacre, then laid some of the materials before the Elven Queen and asked:
"Lady Francesca Findabair."
"As I said, I now possess a sizable stock of wyvern parts and a dozen eggs."
"Would your people be interested in buying them?"
"Of course, given our relationship, I can offer a favorable price."
After hearing him out.
The stunning Elven Queen reclined in a rattan chair, chin propped on one hand, stared blankly for a few seconds, then regarded him with an odd look and said melodiously:
"A truly shocking tale, Master Witcher."
"In mere days you borrowed a sizable fief from Foltest to found your own Witcher school."
"Then, in ten days inside perilous Vizima marsh, you slew over a dozen wyverns and carted the materials here, intending to sell them to the Elven Queen for a fortune."
"Heh—a saga fit for ballads."
"Alas, the latter half of this transaction must remain secret; humans must not know."
Saying this, Francesca Findabair closed her eyes, a thoughtful expression on her jade-smooth face.
After a dozen seconds she opened them again and, half-serious, half-playful, said:
"You are a friend of the Aen Seidhe, Master Guilliman."
"Since you come to me, I cannot let you down."
"Very well—I'll purchase all your wyvern materials."
"The eggs, however, are of no use to me; you'll have to handle those yourself."
"Yet, much like last time, I lack the coin on hand. You may leave the goods with me or propose another form of trade."
"After all, I am an arch-mage and a queen."
"Opportunities to bargain with me are exceedingly rare."