CHAPTER 142
BLEEDING WALLET
Onas had learned about Dorfeils when he was dispatched to tie the loose ends in Clandor. His initial reaction was one of anger, a desire to destroy Zinven's land. However, such an act would have brought undue scrutiny. attention. So, he did what he could as an elf of commoner’s standing, but it was not easy to win against noble filling pockets of the law enforcers. Nonetheless, he persevered and succeeded in extricating Anavan, ultimately sending Vanir to Concordia for his safety.
The name Hans, he had heard before and could have even seen if not the blunder in Concordia, the boy whom his Commander Xandor called fake. “I joined late, so I can't say for sure. But the commander spoke of their former king's vision for a nation of freedom. I wanted to see it for myself. Now, with Vanir aligning with Hans... Perhaps…No,” He shook his head in denial, prompting curious gazes of Vanir’s mother and his younger brother, and resolved, “Commander is right; he is not his father. We can't rely on others to fix things. We must take matters into our own hands.”
He gave a mouth full of sparkly liquid to Anavan, and with just that small dose, Anavan's sanity began to return. His once-paralysed legs began to twitch. However, rather than expressing relief, he seized Onas by the collar, startling his wife, and shouted, "You traitor—“
"Mhm. A traitor," Onas responded, gently removing the feeble hand that had once possessed great strength. “Yes, that is so you.” he added, “Look. what your loyalty has bought you first, idiot..”
Anavan remained silent as Onas unleashed the thoughts he had suppressed for years. “What I yearned for," he began, "is a life of freedom, where I never have to bow before anyone, where my voice carries weight, and my opinions are valued. That's the life I vowed to create for myself, and I've been working tirelessly to make it a reality."
He paused, his eyes filled with bitterness. "And what were you doing? You label me a traitor, but take a long, hard look at yourself—your youngest, your wife, your brilliant son. Examine what your so-called loyalty has earned you, Anavan. See what our own kind has subjected you to, and yet you call me a traitor. There's no place for us here, and there never will be. To them, we're insignificant, expendable creatures they can crush at will. It's time to wake up!"
“So what do I owe you for help,” Anavan responded, his eyes as bitter as the man shouting at him.
Onas responded, his tone sardonic, “Look at this bastard! Even if you were my enemy, I still would have helped you.” He stood up, tidying up his clothes, “Live long old friend, I need you alive and well so you can see and regret how wrong you were when my struggle yields the result.”
AGRILANDS, CONCORDIA
Hans was famous in Agrilands and not for the reasons of the Midlands. As the exclusive owner of wood mana, he was highly sought after by various facilities there. However, no matter how much they desired his services, contacting him or any third-year student or lower was strictly prohibited by the rules. So, Hans's arrival in Agriland made headlines.
Everyone was eager to collaborate with him, and internal bidding competitions ensued. Eventually, a research facility named 'New Age' secured his services for 1500 credits, to be paid after Hans completed one month of tentative employment. Initially, they were bleeding funds, but soon their investment began to bear fruit as they manufactured numerous miraculous herbs. They worked him tirelessly, not even giving him proper time to rest, and the yield he provided far outweighed their initial investment.
He appeared utterly drained, his eyes almost sunken into their sockets. However, a subtle joy played across his face. "I did it. Now I have nearly 3500 credits. I'm practically the wealthiest second-year," he murmured to himself, then realized, "Only three weeks left. I need to acquire that…"
As he had been forewarned, upon arriving at the task hall, a fine of 2000 credits was deducted from his account, and he was prohibited from taking on any further tasks. Nonetheless, having 1500 credits remaining was still a remarkable feat. He recalled the elf alchemist who had invested all his savings, a mere 700 credits. "I truly am rich.”
His eyes led him to the Trade centre inside the task hall where they swiftly welcomed him, well aware of his financial standing. Without wasting any time, he made a request, "Golem creation," and reluctantly handed over his account card, lamenting, “My money, my hard-earned money…”
He received a receipt confirming the successful transaction. Frustration bubbling, he couldn't help but vent at the manager, “Why is it so darn expensive?” he questioned, and the manager explained, as if reciting a well-practised response, "It's meant to discourage juniors from acquiring higher-level skills that you would typically learn after graduation if you remained here.”
You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.
He then asked and the manager told him like she was trained, “It is to stop juniors learning the higher years’ skills, you would have eventually learned this after graduation if you continued to be here.”
"Then," he retorted, "you shouldn't have allowed it in the first place—"
We do have some people with deep pockets," she replied, eyeing him. "But, who cares? It's free money, after all. Now, how else can I assist you, dear customer?" she asked, wearing a customer-friendly smile.
Hans, gripping his account card tightly, responded, "Do you have any recommendations?”
"You'll require mana stones, quite a lot of them, especially if you intend to learn golem creation," she suggested. "How about purchasing some for 100 credits each? A variety of types available…"
Hans was well aware that crafting golems was an expensive business. However, he found himself in need of a less lethal power for competitions, as most of his spells were designed for killing purposes. At the moment, golem creation seemed like the ideal choice. While he could have eventually learned this from the book Limitless, he had spent some years reading his book Limitless and had come to a hypothesis.
He mumbled, “If I want access to specific spells from the book, I must possess the know-how. The upgrades of VeganBind only appeared when I mastered it to some degree. I can’t wait for it to show up the normal way, I need Golems, now.”
His eyes waned, looking at the price chart again. He then placed an order, saying, "I'll take two magma and one lightning-type growth potion, and please convert the remaining amount into mana stones."
With a businesslike smile, the manager responded, “Thank you for the patronage,” and returned his account card. Hans sighed inwardly, muttering to himself. “It's Zero. Now, I’m flat broke.” The pain was almost unbearable, but he consoled himself, “It's for the future, for the future… damn, it hurts very bad.”
Internally grumbling, he hefted the weighty pouch, providing support from below. "This is quite heavy,” he exclaimed as he exited the task hall. "Now, where is my minion—”.
“Here, here,” Vanir pointed at himself giving Hans a contorted face.
“Don’t you have any dignity?” Hans asked.
“Who cares?” Vanir shrugged him off, staring at the bloated pouch, “What did you buy?”
“You are good at understanding theories, right?” Hans pointed at him and Vanir affirmed, “Mhm” nodding quickly while keeping his gaze on the bulging pouch.
“Then I have some work for you,” he paused, glancing at the Golem parchment and sighed, “Just as I thought.” He muttered, skimming through the content, pushing Vanir further in suspense.
“What?” Vanir interrupted, he couldn’t help his mumblings.
“This is focused on the central core theory?” Hans explained, pushing the production method to Vanir, adding, “It has a fatal weakness, I want it gone… Come up with a better one, instead of one, use more mana stones as a core —”
“Senior, that’s distributive theory and many mage researchers already declared it impossible. I’m good at theories, not God of theories. I just began to spread my wings you want me to do something that those old monsters failed? ”
"Just come up with the concept and explain how it might work; I'll handle the implementation," Hans proposed, displaying three vials. "Does this serve as sufficient motivation?”
Vanir was left speechless. These were high-grade growth potions, each of which was worth almost 100,000 Gold. He stood there, stunned. "This isn't something he could have asked Dean Sierra for; he must have purchased them with his own money," Vanir realized, his eyes becoming misty. He grabbed Hans and embraced him tightly. "Senior," he said, "I wish you were a girl."
“Then you’d be as miserable as Gramps. That man must have handed over his right to voice after marrying Granny,” Hans teased pushing him back but it backfired, “I wouldn’t mind doing it too, did you not know, your grandma is…”
“Oh, man.” Hans's face twisted, “Tread lightly Junior —”
“Yes, that came out wrong.” He gestured waving his hands at Hans and silently inserted a question, “But, Is it true?”
“What?” Hans said, his annoyance apparent. But being him around for a while, Vanir got used to his temper and became brave enough to tease him, so he didn’t stop there and asked Hans, “That, Dean Rudolf is… henpecked.”
Hans chose to ignore him, and from then on, the two got busy and the due time of his suspension flew by, During that time, Vanir continued improving his mana capacity and helping Hans to understand how the distributive golem theory is theorised and why it was impossible to coordinate without the commanding core, which the whole golem system was based on to begin with. Circling back to the central core theory.
Meanwhile, The second years continued their hunting class and the rest of the curriculum. Hans was forcing Vanir, pushing him to explain the theory, he was taking this hard path because all of a sudden, the book Limitless started showing blank pages. He was still betting that the book might show something if he understood how Golem works.
However, that wasn't the only challenge he was facing. An additional issue was controlling his emotions, particularly his anger. Since many of his spells required intense concentration, the angrier he became, the more likely his spells would misfire. So like every other kid, he was learning to control his emotions through his elder, Dietrich.
"So, you're going back to your classes tomorrow?" Dietrich asked.
“Yes.” Hans nodded.
“Don’t beat up your friends.”
“I didn’t” Hans rebuked, “ You know that.”
“Yes, you messed up because of the worm in your head.”
Hans sighed, ”Yes. And please, don't ask me to apologise again. I'm tired of hearing that."
Hearing his reluctance, Dietrich offered some wisdom, No, never apologize too easily, foolish descendant. Once you get used to it, you'll keep making mistakes because you know that apologizing will make the situation better.”
Hans was surprised. "Wow, I never thought I'd hear—“
Dietrich cut him off. "I mean, don't do things you have to apologize for, you idiot.”
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