Chapter 157

“…Doesn’t matter. Must’ve been a cheap table.”

Fernan stopped his fingers.

Of course, that didn’t undo the hole he’d left in it.

“Didn’t you say last time it was made from the finest noble wood?”

“I changed suppliers to try something new. Golden Turtle doesn’t only trade in luxury goods.”

To steer the conversation away, Fernan pulled a gold coin from his pocket and spun it.

“…Back to the point, it’s not like I have to lend it to you. Money is like the blood of this world. Everyone needs it, and everything depends on it.”

He meant to say there were many businesses to invest in, many others he could lend money to.

The coin spun and landed right in front of Aint.

“I’m only considering the possibility that you can’t secure enough funds. If that’s not the case, I’ve no reason to take the risk. I could lend it elsewhere at a higher interest rate.”

Seeing Aint nod slightly, Fernan smiled.

His strategy of offering a low rate from the start was working.

— He didn’t say anything wrong.

— In fact, these guys aren’t obligated to help you.

‘So this is a real favor?’

— A real favor? Not at all. He just wants you to defeat the demons more than anyone.

Gardner could tell.

— You saw what happened with the corrupted last time. Demons don’t care for money or jewels.

— Thanks to that, the Pellenbergs made a fortune fighting them a thousand years ago. But coexistence has never been an option.

That’s why, a thousand years ago, Pellenberg ended up joining the first emperor.

— And of course, he’s also doing this to eliminate any other potential allies. He wants to cut out the competition.

‘Competition?’

— You’re a rising hero. Think no one else’s interested in investing in Armian, even if it’s weak right now?

Even so, Gardner believed it was best to shake Fernan’s hand.

Any other hyena would be even more desperate to devour Aint.

And if you had to be devoured, better by one lion—especially if that lion had unusually high generosity.

— A 5% interest loan with a 15-year term was a great offer even a thousand years ago.

— Take it while he’s willing to lend. We don’t know when he’ll change his mind, so ask for as much as you can.

“…Is your previous offer still valid?”

In the end, Aint said exactly what Fernan had wanted to hear.

‘That’s it! My lifelong goldmine!’

Inside, Fernan celebrated, though outwardly he kept calm.

“Of course. A merchant doesn’t turn away a client asking for a loan.”

Aint and Gardner might think it was a great offer. And they wouldn’t be wrong.

But there were two things they hadn’t realized.

‘Sure, that low interest rate made him ask for a huge sum.’

First, that it didn’t matter how low the rate was if the starting sum was too large. It was like a snowball downhill.

‘Pay it all off in 15 years? Unless he raids a dragon’s lair, impossible.’

And with war on the horizon, it’d be a miracle if he didn’t end up borrowing more.

At first, the interest would consume the capital, and then would come collapse.

‘This is what’s called a money game. Money always draws more money.’

The other thing they didn’t know was that that money originally belonged to Aint.

The low 5% interest wasn’t a favor. It was just a trap disguised as goodwill.

Fernan stifled the laughter threatening to escape.

“Then let’s draft the contract.”

“Yes.”

Once both signed, Fernan carefully tucked the document away.

“By the way, is it true that Fridian has turned corrupted?”

“Ask Aria. She’ll know better—she’s directly involved.”

The Fridian issue seemed trivial by comparison.

‘Where should I keep this?’

Not a scratch could be allowed.

‘It’ll have to go in the main mansion’s secret vault.’

He had that vault built with the utmost care. As long as Pellenberg didn’t fall, it was impregnable.

“The money will be transferred in three days, as stated in the contract.”

“…Such a large sum in just three days?”

“Don’t underestimate Pellenberg.”

Fernan replied proudly, standing up from his seat.

“I’m off—I’ve got urgent matters. Like I said, there’s much to investigate regarding Fridian.”

“Understood.”

Fernan left the room, calling out to Hyde.

“Straight to the mansion. We need to cast a protection spell on this contract and store it immediately in the vault.”

There was no more urgent task.

***

“…It’s true. Gathering this much money in just three days…”

Three days later, Fernan handed over dozens of subspace bags to Aint.

All were brimming with gold coins.

How much was it, total? One thing was certain—it was more than Aint had ever seen in his life.

— Pellenberg is Pellenberg, no doubt. To pull this off so fast…

Not bad. Not at all.

— Now you’ve got another reason to go home over summer break.

— But no matter how much money you’ve got, your father is still head of the house. You’ll need to talk to him and get his approval.

“Yes, that’s the plan.”

Honestly, he felt a little unsure.

His father had never shown ambition to regain power or expand the house. He was content to live in peace.

Would he accept the proposal?

‘No. At this point, it’s not about whether he accepts or not.’

He had to make him accept—no matter what.

Convince his father, rebuild Armian. Whatever it took.

“But now the problem is, where do I keep all this?”

Aint looked seriously at the pile of bags on the bed.

Dozens of subspace bags, all filled with coins and jewels. Just storing them was a problem.

And since you couldn’t put one subspace bag inside another, it was even worse.

They said doing so would damage the magic circle and lose everything stored inside.

— Best bet is to send them to your mansion. Even if Armian’s declined, they must at least have a vault.

The problem was, Armian no longer had the strength to protect a fortune like this.

Still, if Fernan didn’t leak anything, it’d be hard for anyone to find out.

“I guess you’re right… but the distance during the semester…”

— Don’t all the prince-electors have direct teleportation circles with the Academy?

— You could use one of those.

“Eh… well…”

Aint smiled awkwardly.

“We used to… but not anymore.”

— What?

“As you know, our territory fell. We lost almost all of it—including the family’s original seat.”

Currently, the Armian mansion was no longer the original.

That area had fallen to Schwaben along with the loss of the throne.

— But that was a century ago. Surely you’ve had time to build a new one?

“Sure, but there was no reason to. Like I told you, after losing the throne, I was the first to enroll in the Academy.”

Since then, Armian had closed all its doors. Including to the Academy. No need to establish a new teleportation circle.

— This really is a total fall from grace…

“But I’ll raise it again.”

— As you should. Otherwise, how could I ever face the former emperor?

Man and sword renewed their vow.

Aint stored the bags in the wardrobe drawers.

For now, Ravidus Hall was one of the safest places to protect them.

Not a long-term solution, but it would do for now.

— Oh, I just remembered something.

— Among the things the emperor left at the Academy, there’s a giant subspace bag.

“A giant one?”

— Yeah. Big enough to fit all the gold and jewels you borrowed.

Another of the measures the emperor had prepared for his successors.

“And if someone else already took it?”

— If they had, there’d be rumors. That bag, like the armor, is hidden. Only I can find it.

Hearing that, Aint’s face lit up.

“Then I could use it to carry everything. But… what about the armor?”

— Hm… that’s the problem. No, on second thought, the real question is whether you can beat Luina Bercheff this time.

— I got the sense she also had some sort of revelation.

Both fell silent, thinking about their next move.

***

Training with Aint and Luina had become part of Verian’s daily routine.

He would rise at dawn, spar with them, and then head to class.

And that’s why he felt it all the more deeply.

‘…These damned monsters.’

Both Aint Armian and Luina Bercheff.

Not only were they improving—they rose higher and higher each day, reaching ever more unreachable heights.

‘The world is unfair.’

Does this make any sense? They were monsters before, people he hadn’t even dared to compete against. And now they were something even further beyond.

Even if his own growth hadn’t been bad, why was the gap only widening?

‘That damn Armian was weaker than me just a year ago! Does this make sense?!’

Verian Kalburdern had also once been called a genius in the Kalburdern territory.

He wasn’t some small fry—he had proven that by placing second at the Academy.

So why did it feel like he could never surpass those two?

Maybe it was because he refused to accept it.

That there was a colossal wall between them and him.

He clenched his teeth hard.

Why was he the only one who felt stuck? Why was the difference so vast?

Every day, he swung his sword until his body screamed.

And even though he fell again and again to Aint and Luina, he always got back up to try again.

But the distance never closed.

And every day, he felt more dried up inside. Everyone was moving forward, and he was the only one who seemed frozen.

“Why the dead-man face? Kalburdern didn’t collapse or something, did it?”

Aria, the elf, sat down beside him with a bright smile.

“Leave me alone.”

“You sigh constantly at the practice field. How could I not notice?”

“You’re the one who’s all chipper. Just a few days ago you had the same wrecked look I do now.”

“Well, I fixed it!”

Aria beamed.

“You fixed it?”

“Well… not exactly. But they said they’d look into it. No, wait—they didn’t say it outright, but they said they’d investigate.”

“You talked to senior Fernan.”

“Yup. You were wrong.”

“Now what?”

“You said it was just my imagination, all in my head. But Fernan agreed to help me. And you still say it was just my mistake?”

She shrugged. And that attitude deeply irritated Verian.

“You must’ve paid him.”

“No. He said he’d do it because of our relationship—like a personal favor.”

The response came naturally, but after knowing her for over a year, Verian had learned to spot her lies.

“Right, like that stingy guy would do anything out of generosity.”

Even if he hadn’t known that, her story didn’t make any sense.

“Anyway, that doesn’t matter now, right? I’m doing fine and you’re a wreck. That’s what counts.”

“Neither of us matters, so get lost.”

“Still frustrated about losing to Aint?”

Aria didn’t even wait for a response. She nodded on her own, as if she already knew.

“Well, considering you were the only one who passed out in the Andromalius fight—it tracks.”

“…I didn’t pass out.”

“Then were you just taking a nap?”

“I heard you ended up full of holes and barely able to move.”

“But I didn’t lose consciousness, at least.”

Verian thought about insulting her, but instead, he stood up silently.

If he kept arguing with Aria in that state of mind, he really would lose his temper.

And as if she knew, Aria didn’t stop him when he walked away.

***

Verian wandered aimlessly through the city.

Comparing himself to strong people in the crowd was a habit of his when he felt frustrated.

‘Strong.’

‘I could probably beat that one.’

‘Weaker than Aint.’

‘I can beat that one.’

Until, without knowing why, he stopped in front of a general goods store.

There wasn’t a clear reason.

It was just that, outside the shop, an old, worn-out sword caught his eye.

“Welcome!”

“Can I take a look at that sword?”

“Of course.”

It didn’t seem special in any way.

But without knowing why, his hand moved on impulse.

As he examined it, he noticed a tiny inscription on the blade.

“What does this mean?”

“Oh, that. They say it’s in an ancient script, but no one really knows what it says. There are some old documents related to it, but they’re incomplete.”

“Old documents?”

“Want to see them? I’ve got a book inside that talks about it. Better if you buy it, of course.”

Verian stepped into the store.

“This one.”

The owner pulled out a very old book.

Verian brushed the dust from the cover and opened it.

“There’s absolutely noth—”

In that instant, his mind went blank.

‘…What is this?’

His body no longer felt like his own.

His thoughts no longer seemed his.

Like he was floating naked above the ocean, like he was ascending through the air.

‘……’

And then, something strange—but familiar—slipped into his mind.

A sensation he had experienced many times.

The same one that had already ruined him once.

A sticky, disgusting, vile energy.

It was demonic magic.

He snapped back to himself in a flash.

Once, when he’d become corrupted without realizing it.

Another, when his memories had been tampered with and he repeated the same mistakes.

It had happened to him twice.

And that had made him stronger.

He activated his aura, resisting the demonic energy trying to invade his mind.

His head felt like it would explode.

His insides were a mess, and he ended up coughing blood.

Even so, he clenched his teeth.

Again? You want me to become corrupted again?

And why is it always me, damn it?

He fought, over and over, until finally—

“…You screwed me over twice! Think there’ll be a third time, you bastard?!”

Verian broke free from the attempted mental manipulation.