Weakest Beast Tamer Gets All SSS Dragons

The streets of Yino’s capital bustled with their usual superficial warmth.

Smiling merchants hawked their wares with honeyed voices, nobles exchanged courteous greetings while mentally calculating how to take advantage of each other, and children played in the squares under the watchful eyes of parents who smiled while secretly planning the next move in their families’ social ladder climbing.

Hedda walked through the commercial district with measured steps, her jumping spider extending subtle sensory hairs across the skin of her arms. At her recently turned eighteen years, she had learned to navigate this social dance with the same precision she used for her most dangerous missions.

“Good morning, young Hedda,” a fruit vendor greeted her with a smile as bright as it was false. “Does our beloved Princess need something special today?”

“Just the usual, Mrs. Vera,” Hedda responded with equal artificial sweetness, knowing perfectly well that the woman had already calculated the inflated price she would try to charge. “Fresh fruit for Her Highness’s lunch.”

While inspecting the fruit, Hedda noticed how the small flying rat that monitored her perched discreetly on the roof of a nearby building. It was a constant reminder of her true position: not a common servant, but an asset under perpetual surveillance.

The transaction was completed with the expected smiles and courtesies, each party feigning satisfaction while mentally declaring victory over the other. It was Yino’s daily ballet.

This kingdom, in stark opposition to Yano, champions the ‘black’ as its core belief: ‘White on the outside, black on the inside. Everyone lies; be cunning to maintain your white facade, while remaining cold, calculating, and intelligent within.’

It was the philosophy they had instilled in her since childhood, so different from what she had heard about Yano’s “inferior view” or “wrong priorities” during her years of training.

Yano’s philosophy was, conversely, ‘Black on the outside, white on the inside. Show your opponent a tough exterior, but maintain a calm and balanced mind within.’

To Hedda’s eyes, both philosophies of the rival kingdoms are two sides of the same deceptive coin, merely flipped.

Yino’s kingdom, however, truly embodies its tradition. Its society projects a warm and smiling demeanor, yet beneath the surface, individuals are constantly plotting their next aggressive move. This breeds a perpetually, if subtly, uncomfortable and unsettling atmosphere.

Being also ordered, watched constantly and knowing that Yino’s King was controlling his people quite directly unlike Yano’s… If Hedda knew the term, she would describe it as almost dystopian.

♢♢♢♢

Unlike her brother Han, who was receiving a complete education at the enemy academy, Hedda had had to make do with ‘special’ training until she was seventeen…

Only the last year of her life had she received something, relatively, of the same educational quality Han enjoyed… and that only because she served as support for the care and monitoring of Princess Selthia.

She wasn’t like the special guards, children of other nobles, in Yano who could be students with priority when possible. Hedda was more like the princess’s errand girl, constantly moving through the city, learning to obtain unconventional goods and services.

‘At least Han’s latest letters arrived on time,’ she thought bitterly while paying for the fruit.

Though she didn’t know they were reviewed and reformulated, often made almost from scratch because the originals carried some implications about their real work. The censors eliminated any reference to their true situations, presenting each sibling as a hostage of the other side to maintain their loyalty.

But how could they notice any strangeness or difference? Since, from the beginning… from her childhood, their communications had been like this.

The last errand of the day took her to the more… ‘flexible’ sector of the commercial district. Here, the smiles remained bright, but the merchandise was considerably less conventional.

Master Vex’s shop nestled between an herbalist of questionable reputation and a jeweler who didn’t ask too many questions about the origin of gems.

The simple sign read “Specialized Articles”, but regular customers knew that Vex could obtain practically anything if the price was right.

The bell chimed when Hedda entered, and the familiar voice greeted her from behind the counter.

“Ah, my favorite client,” Master Vex emerged from the shadows with that fox smile he had perfected over decades.

He was an older man, impeccably styled silver hair, dressed with the discreet elegance of someone who could afford the best but preferred not to flaunt it.

“What caprice of Her Highness brings me the pleasure of your company today?”

“Nothing too exotic,” Hedda responded, automatically adopting the slightly haughty tone she had learned to use. “I just need some higher-quality pure crystals. It seems the usual ones don’t maintain the brightness the Princess requires.”

Vex clicked his tongue with theatrical disapproval.

“These young nobles and their impossible standards. In my time, a good-sized crystal was more than enough. Now everything must be perfect.” His eyes glittered with genuine amusement. “Of course, for a young lady as… resourceful as you, I think I can find something exceptional.”

He disappeared toward the back room, and Hedda heard the sound of boxes being moved and locks being opened. When he returned, he carried a small black velvet box.

“Crystals of the purest quality for dyeing them with that questionable but popular ‘purple resonance’,” he announced with genuine pride, “carved to be exactly the usual size. Absolute clarity, extended absorption, and…” he lowered his voice conspiratorially, “completely impossible to produce by conventional methods.”

Hedda examined the crystals, immediately noticing their superior quality. She also noticed the price they probably carried.

“And I suppose this exceptional quality comes with an equally exceptional cost?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“For any other client, absolutely,” Vex smiled, beginning the haggling ritual. “But for someone with your… appreciation for fine craftsmanship, I’m sure we can reach a mutually beneficial arrangement.”

“Mutually beneficial,” Hedda repeated, her own smile becoming sharper. “An interesting phrase coming from someone who once tried to sell me common crystal dust as ‘diamond hydra powder’.”

Vex placed a hand to his chest with feigned horror.

“You wound me deeply! That was a… labeling misunderstanding. Completely accidental.”

“Of course it was,” Hedda laughed, but not without affection. “Just like it was ‘accidental’ that you charged me gold-rank price for those ‘enchanted’ silver plates.”

“They were enchanted!” Vex protested. “With an enchantment of… enhanced durability.”

“Master Vex,” Hedda leaned forward, her voice taking on a more intimate tone, “we both know those plates had as much enchantment as my left sock.”

“Your left sock could be enchanted with a dangerous power,” Vex replied without missing a beat. “I haven’t had the opportunity to examine it properly… But I can smell it from here.”

The joke drew a genuine laugh from Hedda, momentarily breaking the masks they both wore. In that instant, they weren’t merchant and client, but two people who had come to appreciate each other’s company through years of verbal fencing.

It was one of the few authentic relationships Hedda had managed to cultivate in a world where everything else was performance and calculation.

“In any case,” Vex continued, his tone becoming more serious, “these crystals are genuinely exceptional. And for you…” he made a calculated pause, “friend’s price.”

“Friend’s price?” Hedda feigned shock. “Master Vex letting genuine and ‘white’ feelings show? Should I call a doctor?”

“Ha, ha, very funny,” Vex waved a hand dismissively. “I simply recognize a valuable client when I see one. Someone who appreciates quality and…” his eyes narrowed slightly, “someone who always delivers… Even if it seems like their end is approaching.”

Hedda felt a subtle change in the atmosphere. Vex had noticed something in her behavior, some tension she thought she had hidden better.

“Master Vex,” she said carefully, “are you insinuating that something has changed in my usual demeanor?”

The old merchant studied her for a moment, his decades of experience reading people flashing in his calculating eyes. The silence stretched between them, filled with the weight of unspoken understanding.

“Dear child,” he said finally, his voice carrying a gravity that hadn’t been there before, “I’ve been in this business since before you were born. I recognize farewell behavior when I see it.”

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