CHAPTER 27
HANS THE EXTORTIONIST
As Thelma exited, a murmur of excitement rippled through the classroom. The talk was all about the roles up for grabs: a Prophet for tax evasion, a Sentinel for budget potions, and a Talon for borrowing crucial artefacts. Plus, the bonus of free healing and secret insights sweetened the deal. These benefits aimed to foster unity among the castles, but there were some strong idiots who ventured solo despite the risks, and Hans was thinking of doing just that.
However, he wasn’t going to deny it if Chris followed him since it was evident that Delimira was opting in for theories. And, he was still curious how Rudolf warned him to be serious when facing Chris. So he turned to Chris and asked straight forward. “Hey Chris, wanna team up—”
“Ah! Sorry buddy.” Chris cut him off without a thought, and explained instantly on seeing Hans’s frown. “You see, I got scouted ahead by my senior roommate. They are a pretty good team and they asked me first with an equal split. So, … sorry about that. But I’ll, if I have time.”
“Hard no would’ve been fine. I wasn’t proposing you or something.” Hans said nonchalantly but anyone could see he was sulking.
Soon, he forgot how Chris had rejected him since he had a high-class research laboratory that was just begging to return to his owner, of course with due credits.
However, those were some tricky practices or so-called a noble’s way of cheating. One can just simply buy 1000 credits from the seniors with higher exchange rate than task hall or just by selling them the thing they wanted. Hans lightly tapped his knapbinder, his fortune making item was resting inside.
“I need no hurry, its the first day after all and I’ve heard volunteering in Deadlands will pass you automatically.” Hans mumbled and went to the Space door to Agrilands, where Dietrich was waiting for him as promised.
“So foolish descendant. Ready?” Dietrich pointed a sword conjured by his watery aura, and Hans replied with the same posture, pointing the sword made from his malleable organic-metal-seed from the SharpDeath spell.
“You are getting good at transforming your what-you-call thing into weapons. It still breaks, but it’s not like you have a limited supply, right?”
“Stop chitchatting, ancestor. I’m ready.” Hans gestured a smug wipe at his nose and charged at Dietrich with everything he had. It was nothing fancy but a regular spar between one more experienced and a toddler from his opponent’s perspective.
However, with each spar, Hans’s ability to channel his past experiences as the Inheritor grew rapidly. The more he fought Dietrich, the more power he tapped into. His mind had the counter of every Dietrich’s strike, but his body wasn’t ready to follow.
It seemed useless to Hans when he started sparring with Dietrich since no matter how good he was at swordsmanship, if he couldn’t use aura, it was just another exercise. But now, he agreed to disagree; the ancestry experience which was waking up inside him was giving him the answers to how to handle such devastating moves. This was eventually making him the idle knight killer since he could see flaws in someone’s swordsmanship with a glance.
However, Dietrich was whole another story; his every move exerted elegance and flawlessness, which was triggering Hans’s inheritor power to find answers deep within his conscience. Hence his improvement, which was clearly visible to Dietrich.
“Let’s call it a day, foolish descendant, or your brain might fry itself.” Dietrich stopped, his blade barely away from Hans’s neck. It was no brainer that Dietrich had won like any other day, but Hans wasn’t frustrated or whined this time. He always thought it was an honour to get to fight Dietrich without thinking of results. He was a godlike figure to him, so he just chuckled, and his temporary sword disintegrated.
For several days, Hans followed his schedule to the point, and when he heard someone started earning credits. He began his plan for extortion, which he called aggressive negotiations.
He left for the task hall, a buzzing place as always. When he entered, he recalled the first time he visited the place. “I sure had everyone’s attention, and now too.” He mumbled as he saw the bustling task hall turning silent on his arrival.
The numerous tables were filled with scrolls and strategic plans of squads. The task parchment was in their hands, but everyone was just staring at Hans. He stepped in further, only to come in front of a senior. He remembered him from the glory wars.
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Hans gestured for him to move. It wasn’t like he couldn’t sidestep and pass through, but it was a matter of useless pride for both. Troubled, Hans said in a curt tone, “What? Want me to pull a monkey out of your ass? Move.” He passed through like a bolder rolling down the hill, and the senior instinctively moved.
“Can’t you just do quietly?” A giggling voice came from the side, and Hans’s contorted face turned into a forced smile.
“I thought you were preparing for raiding that pervert mage, Deli?” Hans asked, chuckling inside.
“It needs time to prepare. I don’t want to run naked around—”
“That will be some sight to see.” Hans chuckled.
Delimira only frowned in response.
“I thought it would be hilarious until I realised what I said. Sorry.”
“Yeah. Parvart.”
“I nailed my foot with this one, didn’t I?” Hans asked, perplexed.
“Yeah, Parvart. You won’t hear the end of this.”
“Damn it.” Hans tapped his mouth. “Squeaky, princess, and now Parvart. Just how many nicknames was she going to give him?” The thought ran through his mind until she brought him back from the thinking lands.
“So what are you talking about? It’s your first—wait, you were punished here—”
“Yeah, I beat shit out of someone, remember?” Hans wore a mocking smile.
“Do something about your potty mouth, Hans Parv. You are the prince, for god sake.”
“Yes, yes, mother, I’ll try.” Hans shrugged her off and asked, “But what brings you here? I thought you were busy with your Golem research. Vanir was helping you, didn’t he?”
Hans had cleverly included Vanir as a helping hand to Delimira, who was secretly slowing her down. But no matter how much he tried, Delimira was picking up things faster. She even came close to theorizing how the Mystic glades were working. It wasn’t because she was extraordinary like Vanir, but she had direct contacts with Hans and his spells. So her hypotheses were sitting perfectly.
As she explained how Golems could have their own intellect, and how they were inexhaustible as they are using artificial mana hearts, the same as his undying Army. Hans broke out in cold sweat. “Me and my big mouth. I should’ve never told how the Undying army functioned. She is this close…”
“You listening, Hans?” She jolted him gently.
“Yes, yes, smartass. You are planning to raid someone’s house. Are you that happy to break his security measures?” Hans got irritated, “It is private property. I heard there is a board hanging at the entrance to not enter. But greedy people still enter; they should be glad at least they can have their lives instead of clothes.”
Hans vented so loudly that everyone was once again staring at him. He didn’t say anything wrong either. When he created the Mystic glades dungeon, to entice raiders, he put numerous warning labels on it, labelling it private property, following the advice of his sage-like ancestor, a locked home robbed first than an open one.
“Geez, calm down. I guess Perverts had a union leader.” She teased him, seeing him flustered, and Hans became silent, realising he was overreacting.
“See ya, Winters.” Hans quickly bid her farewell, leaving her hanging, and went on his way deep inside. “I need to get over this quickly,” he gently tapped his knapbinder, the research waning to be sold. He knew where he was going and without any trouble found his elf sucker.
The elf, apprentice alchemist, was happy since, unlike others who lost their significant wealth in the Mystic glades, he was the only one who made a fortune there. So seeing the one who brought him this good news made him twice happy.
“What can I help you with, Prince Hans Parv?” He said, smiling.
“What senior? Just call me Hans, as usual. I thought we were closer than this.” Hans mused.
“Of course! Of course! Sit.” He offered Hans a seat. His teammates weren’t there now, providing a perfect opportunity for Hans.
“Senior, how about making another fortune?” Hans snickered.
“My ears are long and sharp already. Just spill the beans, junior.”
Hans looked around. This time, he wanted to keep the news a secret for real. “Senior, about the task of retrieving some guy’s research from Mystic Glades—”
“Don’t bother. I tried because of the 1000 credits they offered, but it’s like finding a needle in a haystack. It’s no use taking it. The manpower and wealth needed—”
“Senior, senior. Hold your horses for a second. I just want to ask, what will we get if we put that research for auction?”
“Haa!” The elf alchemist sighed, “To tell you the truth, 1000 credits are not enough. Some of the contents in that research are original works of many authors. That idiot borrowed it from professors to understand how golems work there and lost it.”
“How much?” Hans stressed.
“He is one rich bastard, so if we inflate the price by ourselves. We could easily get around ten thousand credits—”
“Say no more,” Hans gestured for him to stop. “I have the research with me, just don’t ask how. Buy from me, about 2000 credits, deal?”
The elf alchemist’s brain gears were turning in full swing, calculating the risk of offending his peers and some professors. But he had already undermined the value of research for Hans since he sensed another opportunity.
“I’ll be making many enemies, but since we have such a good relationship, I’ll take this hot potato from your hand. Give me your account card.” He was making it sound like he was doing Hans a favour, but Hans knew he was getting scammed.
“Laugh all you want, senior. I’ll rob you blind in your next visit.” They both continued to laugh inside, thinking of the fortune they would make someday.
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