Weakest Beast Tamer Gets All SSS Dragons

“Those are your terms?” she asked. Voice controlled despite fury. “That’s what you want in exchange for Victor?”

“Yes,” Orion said. Simply. Like it was a reasonable request rather than extortion.

“And if I refuse?”

He smiled. And the energy in his hand grew brighter.

“It’s ridiculous!” Selphira shouted with outrage that she didn’t attempt to moderate. “There’s absolutely no way you can keep all the benefits that should be distributed to the entire city in a sustainable manner! Your group is absolutely imbecilic because ever since the second chamber opened, you’ve been asking and asking for stupid quantities without ceasing. Don’t you understand that the future also matters? Why do you insist on wanting to spend what could last hundreds of years as support for the entire city on personal splurges?”

It was a criticism she’d made repeatedly during many failed negotiations at the beginning with the rebel faction years ago. Accumulated frustration from having to protect the precious resources that these idiots wanted to treat as if they were infinite when clearly they weren’t.

The second chamber contained enough concentrated mana crystals to support the city’s cultivation advancement for generations if managed properly. Distributed carefully, they could uplift the average tamer rank across the entire population. Create stronger defenders. Produce more capable soldiers. Build a foundation for genuine affluence that would be able to get more resources from outside and compound over time.

But the rebel faction had wanted to concentrate on everything immediately. To pour massive resources into advancing a small elite as always rather than gradually improving everyone. To achieve maximum individual power in minimum time regardless of long-term consequences.

It was their classic aristocratic mindset… Secure personal advantage while resources exist and don’t worry about sustainability.

Take everything now, damn the future. And it enraged her. Because she’d spent her entire life trying to build systems that would outlast her. That would serve generations she’d finally never meet.

While Orion and his faction just wanted to grab everything they could reach and burn through it as fast as possible.

Orion responded with a tone that was almost pedagogical. Like he was explaining a basic economic concept to a student who hadn’t comprehended the lesson.

“You don’t understand the situation well. It’s an investment, not a simple expense. You shouldn’t see the cake as something sliced with a finite determined size. If I take the larger part of this small cake we have today, I’ll be able to use those resources to unearth one much larger in the future. It’s multiplication instead of simple division, a larger cake for everyone.”

It was an argument he presented with big belief suggesting he truly believed in the ‘logic’ he articulated. A growth vision that would justify the present concentration of resources in the hands of a few.

The trickle-down theory… Give everything to those at the top and eventually some of it would filter down to those below. Concentrate power in the capable and they’d use it to benefit everyone.

Except it never worked that way…

Never had and never would.

Because greed had no limits. The more these avaricious beasts had, the more they wanted and those who accumulated power very rarely voluntarily redistributed it for the common good.

If she didn’t know that greed would have no limit or fill line regardless of the cake’s size, she might’ve found his argument more convincing.

But she did know… Had seen it play out in kingdom after kingdom throughout history. The rich got richer while claiming they were creating wealth for all and the powerful concentrating authority while insisting it was for efficient governance. The pattern repeated endlessly with identical justifications each time.

And each time the promised trickle-down remained a promise. The larger cake that would benefit everyone somehow never materialized. Or if it did, it remained in the same hands that had controlled the smaller cake.

Selphira laughed at the lies with a sound containing no genuine humor but pure disdain.

“Are you seriously not going to ask for something realistic? Because what you’ve done won’t be easy to justify with anything. And it’s going to be very difficult for both factions to coexist after this. You’ve crossed lines making reconciliation almost impossible.”

It was recognition of a political reality that Orion couldn’t honestly deny. The actions he’d taken during this rebellion, the mutant attacks, Victor’s torture, the coordinated resistance, had caused a problem that wouldn’t be easily repaired even if they reached some type of formal agreement.

You could negotiate with political rivals. Could compromise with ideological opponents and could work alongside those you disagreed with if you shared enough common ground.

But not with someone who’d deliberately endangered thousands of civilians. Who’d tortured members of the royal family. Who’d weaponized corruption against his own people. Those weren’t policy disagreements… They were war crimes. And they created wounds that didn’t heal through simple treaty signing.

The rebel faction had been an annoyance before. Obstacle to efficient governance and source of political friction that required management.

Now they were enemies. Actual enemies who’d proven willing to kill innocents to achieve their goals and who couldn’t be trusted to honor agreements. Who even represented an existential threat to the kingdom’s stability.

“You’re right. I can’t be forgiven,” Orion admitted without apparent defensiveness.

The casual acknowledgment was somehow more disturbing than denial would’ve been. Like he’d calculated the cost and decided it was acceptable. Like burning bridges was a strategic choice rather than an unfortunate consequence.

“But Dragarion was the bridge between two very similar conflicts like this,” he continued. “A mediator that both sides respected or feared sufficiently that they could work through him. So now I can be that bridge too.”

It was a comparison that was insulting on multiple levels. An equation of himself with a figure who’d been genuinely powerful and genuinely respected.

Dragarion had been legendary. Someone whose strength was even heroically offered to ultimately stop a long war.

Orion thought he could replicate that?