Rebirth of the 8th-Circle Mage

Chapter 39: The Return of the Real Deal (3)



Chapter 39: The Return of the Real Deal (3)

Vant turned pale like a sheet of paper as the blood drained from his face.

“A hundred thousand? W-where can I find so much money…?!”

“If I defeat you in an official match, won’t the payout be one hundred thousand gold anyway?”

“T-that’s from the empire! That’s not a sum of money that a single chess player like myself would have.”

“So, you’re saying that you don’t have the money, right?”

“T-that’s right…”

“I understand. Then let’s end this deal here. I have no intention of intimidating someone who has no money. I will formally submit my letter of challenge as soon as the sun rises tomorrow.”

Henry stood up without any hesitation. Seeing Henry about to pack up and leave, Vant grabbed him by the arm, his face much paler than before.

“S-sir Henry! W-wait! Just a little longer! Let’s talk a little bit more.”

“Why are you being like this? I need money, but you don’t have any, do you, Sir Vant?”

“There is another way!”

“Another way?”

Only when pushed into a corner did people have no choice but to reveal their final card, and Vant had been pushed into the tightest corner of his entire life.

“Let’s hear you out,” Henry said reluctantly as he sat down on the sofa again.

Vant lifted the teacup in front of him to calm his trembling body, but his hands were so shaky that he couldn’t even bring it to his mouth.

“T-that is…”

Henry knew that Vant didn’t have such a large sum of money, even if he was the self-proclaimed emperor of Vivaldi. In the end, he was just a civil servant. He also already knew what Vant was about to reveal, because it was what he had been aiming for from the beginning.

“Sir Vant.”

“Yes, yes!”

“The prize of one hundred thousand gold given by the empire. Isn’t that money here right now, in the Vivaldi Tower?”

“H-how did you…?”

“I told you, I am Sir Henry Morris’ second disciple. This was something the Master informed me of as well.”

“W-why would Master…”

There was a hint of resentment in Vant’s eyes, but Henry couldn't care less and continued with his speech.

“Again, I don’t care if you have the money or not. All I care about is that you can get me that money.”

Any fool could have put two and two together and figured out what Henry wanted. But this was a whopping sum of gold he was asking for. If the embezzlement of such a large sum was to be discovered, Vant would certainly lose his head.

Still, Vant had no choice but to weigh his options. On one hand, there was the value of his own life. On the other hand, there was the loss of his wealth and glory upon losing an official match.

‘You can never give it up. Those who have tasted wealth and glory once will never forget its sweet, sweet taste.’

Henry gave one last piece of advice to the distraught disciple.

“Sir Vant, the prize money only needs to exist as the prize money. Unless you are defeated, the money will forever be here in the Vivaldi Tower, untouchable by anybody else.”

Henry was right. The prize money only existed as the prize money. His sophistry eventually helped give Vant a change of heart.

“I understand…” Vant said with a long sigh.

Losing honor, prize money, and even the title of mayor in an official match was worse than death itself. Vant decided that it would be much better to live in fear of this challenger for the rest of his life.

“A wise choice. Shall we go now, to where the money is?”

Vant got up helplessly.

* * *

“Mr. Mayor, are you okay?” asked one of Vant’s secretaries as he and Henry walked past.

“I’m fine. Move along with your work.”

“...Understood.”

The competent secretary seemed to quickly figure out how the mayor was feeling. When the secretary and the servants withdrew themselves, Vant led Henry to his room on the topmost floor of the tower.

“What a view.”

“...It’s the pride of Vivaldi Tower.”

Vant looked totally defeated. To become an accomplice to a crime, a certain degree of discipline was required.

This was the highest point in Vivaldi Town. Even though the sun had set, the streets were lit up and still bright as daytime, living up to the title of ‘City of Pleasure’.

Vant pulled out an unusually shaped key. Then he found a thick dictionary in a closet full of books and pulled it out, revealing a hidden keyhole.

Click!

As soon as Vant put the key in and turned it, the huge bookcase swung open like a door, uncovering a passage. The two entered the passage, which led to a secret room.

Vant pressed a button, illuminating the room and revealing…

Sparkle!

The light shone brilliantly on a gigantic pile of gold coins.

“It’s exactly one hundred thousand gold. But how are you going to take all of them? There are a thousand of them, with a value of one hundred each.”

“I’ll take care of that.”

The coins weighed one hundred grams each. Since there were a thousand of them, the weight alone added up to a significant one hundred kilograms. Even with the matter of the weight aside, the coins were just too bulky for one person to carry alone.

‘Klever.”

- Yes, Master.

‘Take everything.’

- Yes, Master.

Henry pushed Vant behind him. Then, the open Chest on the palm of his right hand began to swallow up the thousand coins.

Wooooosh!

‘Are you certain that there are a thousand coins here?’

- Yes, I’m certain!

Henry finalized the details one last time before swallowing up the last of the coins. Once they were all taken, he shook his hand lightly.

“H-how in the world!?”

“Did you really think that I would have come this far without being prepared? Ah, I almost forgot! I have a gift for you.”

Henry handed a small piece of paper to Vant.

“What’s this?”

“This is a caller scroll.”

“A caller scroll?”

“There’s no guarantee that another person like myself won’t show up again. If such a person appears, tear this piece of paper. I will come and help you.”

“...Thank you.”

The scroll was a kind of insurance, but to Henry, it held a deeper meaning. It was an act of forgiveness for Vant’s past actions.

‘With this, I completely forgive you.’

Henry could have made money through other means in Vivaldi Town. However, he had specifically chosen Vant because of something he had done in the past. Before he drank the poison, Henry had asked Vant to look after the people whom he was responsible for. As Vant had been Henry’s unofficial chess apprentice, so on the surface, the two were not associated. Therefore, Vant’s help toward Henry wouldn’t have been apparent to the Nobles.

However, Vant had refused, too frightened of incurring the Nobles’ wrath if he acceded to Henry’s request. Henry knew this, which was why he didn’t harbor any hatred toward Vant. Of course, there was no doubt that he was a bit disappointed.

“Ah, one more thing! I’m going to stay here for a while, so may I ask you for a favor and take care of my horse?”

“H-horse?”

“Private stables are a bit expensive. I’ll inform my horse about this arrangement beforehand, so thanks in advance.”

“...I understand.”

“Also, while I’m here, I’ll be in your care, Sir Vant.”

“In my care? Are you saying that you’re going to stay in the tower?”

“No, it’s not like that. You’ll find out soon enough.”

Henry did not go into detail about his future plans, but it was clear that there would come a time when Vant would be needed.

‘Now that the foundations are set, shall we get down to business?’

Henry’s past feelings toward Vant had now been completely resolved.

* * *

Having completed his objectives, Henry left Vivaldi Tower and headed for his next destination.

He arrived at a place called ‘Million Gold,’ the largest arena in Vivaldi.

“Welcome to Million Gold. What is the purpose of your visit?”

Henry handed out the Black Card to the receptionist at the entrance and said, “I want to participate in the Sword Clash segment, where should I head to?”

“It is an honor to meet you. Do you wish to personally participate in the event?”

“Yes.”

“Please, follow me.”

Upon seeing the Black Card, the employee showed great respect toward Henry, as he called for another employee to take his place. Then, he took Henry to the Sword Clash Arena.

“You may register as a participant here. Do you have any other questions?”

“This is enough.”

The staff who guided him returned to his position, and Henry began to fill out the paperwork necessary to register as a participant. Soon after, another staff member came to review the completed documents.

“Um… Sir? Excuse me, could you show me your identity tag?”

Henry gladly handed over his identity tag.

“Sir, I apologize. You clearly stated that you were a Learner-class swordsman in the document, but I see that you have three stars on your identity tag.”

“So?”

“That is… if the mark engraved on the back of your identity tag is indeed that of the Caliburn Fortress, then I am curious how you received two additional stars with your Learner-class skills.”

The three blue stars engraved on Henry’s identity tag.

One was the marking of a Baronet’s family, one was to symbolize the honor of being under the Noblesse Oblige system, and the other was to indicate that he was the recipient of the Medal of Merit, obtained for great achievements during his time of service.

The employee seemed to doubt how a Learner-class swordsman without an Aura could possibly obtain the Medal of Merit, especially somewhere like the Caliburn Fortress.

“Are you perhaps doubting me?”

There was no doubt that obtaining the Medal of Merit within one year of service was nearly impossible. The employee was understandably skeptical. However, Henry had no obligation to confide all the details, and to a mere employee no less. Henry pulled out the Black Card, his eyes full of annoyance.

“N-no, sir! This is just the first time something like this has happened, so I made a mistake! Please forgive me this one time.”

Tsk.”

As expected of the Vivaldi Free Pass. As soon as the employee saw the Black Card, he immediately bowed his head.

“Your registration is complete. Here is your participant card.”

Now that Henry had received the participant card, most of the preparations were complete.

‘Looks like this is the first time I’ll be participating in a Sword Clash.’

Sword Clash. Two players of equal rank received the same sword and competed against each other until one of the two swords broke. The one to break the opponent’s sword was the winner.

Sword Clash was a game that originated from competition between swordsmen. However, due to its short play-time and the intense nature of the competition, it had become one of Vivaldi’s signature fighting matches that people liked to place bets on.

Henry had been rated as F-rank. This meant that he was an inexperienced participant who had never had a single match.

‘The higher the rating, the more spectators there are, and the higher the prize pool. Also, the amount that can be bet increases.’

This was the basic rule of every arena. The highest level was the S-rank.

Henry planned to maximize the gold he had received from Vant by utilizing this system.

“Welcome. Have you come for a match?”

“Yes.”

“You are an F-rank contestant. To become a D-rank, you have to defeat three F-rank contestants or one C-rank contestant.”

“What happens if I beat a B-rank or an A-rank?”

“As a rule, you can only increase your grade one at a time.”

It was a cumbersome grading structure. As Henry handed over a hundred-gold coins, he said, “There’s no need for bets. Instead, I’ll bet my fight money. If any C-rank contestant or above wins against me, I’ll pay them one hundred gold.”

“E-excuse me?”

“Can I not?”

“N-no! I’ll put those conditions up right away.”

Henry didn’t intend to spend a long time dealing with the lower ranks. Besides, this was an arena. Instead of being filled with capable warriors such as Sword Masters, arenas like this were usually filled with middle-class fighters looking for quick money. Real fighters rarely showed up in places like this because they honored and respected their own power.

When the employee put forward the unconventional condition stipulated by Henry, many contestants began to flock to the reception area like a swarm of bees.

“I was first!”

“Whoa, I was first! What are you talking about!”

“Weaklings should just get lost!”

The prize pool was a hundred gold. This was money that not even B-rank participants could earn, even if they won every single match for an entire month. For that reason, it was an opportunity they could not afford to pass up, especially those who had not had a taste of money in a while.

“H-Henry, sir! There are so many challengers. What are you going to do?” the receptionist asked Henry in confusion.

The contestants all turned toward Henry.

Henry picked out one of the papers from the pile at random. He read the paper and asked, “Who’s Damaen?”

“Yoo-hoo!”

From the crowd, one person jumped and cheered.

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