Chapter 8 – In which traps are laid

Saffra, who returned to her room and changed a dress amidst laments of her two talkative ladies-in-waiting, finally sat down in her new, pure red outfit.

She looked at three girls who were still staring at her destroyed dress with sorrow and anger.

“I think we should burn it.” She pointed at the not-so white dress.

“Yeah!”

“Yeah, we should burn it just like that ba–!”

The first girl quickly covered the mouth of the second, who almost made a slip of a tongue.

“Yes, we should.”

Saffra nodded as if she knew nothing and smiled softly.

“Can you do it for me? I’ll have Craya here and you can make sure that this disgrace of elegance won’t stay in this world any longer.”

“Got it!”

The two nodded and swiftly grabbed the dress and ran to turn it into ashes.

Saffra turned to Craya who was standing beside her with a gloomy look.

“I didn’t get to eat anything…”

Craya’s face turned even gloomier at Saffra’s words.

“I suspect you three will sneak into a kitchen to make something for me when I’ll go to rest?”

“My Lady…”

Craya glanced at Saffra with a worried look, probably thinking that Saffra may say that she didn’t wish for it, or didn’t have an appetite, so they shouldn’t bother.

Saffra shook her head and cleared her worries:

“I’ll gladly accept your kindness. Rather, I have a request to you, Miss Craya.”

She beckoned Craya to come a bit closer and bow a little, so she could whisper in her ear.

“Miss Craya, when you’re at it, can you stealthy grab a bag of meat leftovers?”

“Meat leftovers, My Lady?”

People with too much money had a tendency to waste food, and it was especially so about meat. Only the best parts were eaten, and the rest were thrown away to animals.

Now, Saffra planned to use those ‘bad parts’ for her own purposes.

“Yes, Miss Craya. Please bring them to me. I’ll explain later.”

And some time later, when it was time for Saffra to study alone, meaning she was left only with Craya, who was her attending lady-in-waiting.

“Meat…”

Before Saffra could finish the sentence, Craya slightly lifted a hem of her dress and untied a quite heavy bag of meat leftovers.

It made ‘thumb!’ sound when it landed on the floor.

Saffra blinked, then nodded with satisfaction.

“Thank you. Now, Miss Craya. Do you mind helping me cut some flowers?”

While saying that she pointed at the bag of meat with a short, but very sharp blade.

Though no sharp objects could be brought to a lady’s room, it didn’t mean there were no sharp objects in it already.

There were many dangerous beauty products, and Saffra made sure to have them on hand, ready, when she sat down to prepare some ‘gifts’.

Craya looked at the blade in Saffra’s hand, then at the bag of meat and then nodded without a word.

The two silently sat down and started to turn pieces of meat into beautiful bloody flowers.

Tomorrow a conference led by that shit Orche was held at this manor. Though it was mostly a meeting of Orche’s supporters, there were also some neutral parties and the thing itself was a show of political power.

So everything had to be arranged perfectly.

One of those things were flower decorations that were to be put in the meeting hall and in the hallway leading to the hall.

“Tomorrow will probably be a very hot day, right?”

Saffra mumbled to herself as she cut out a beautiful rose out of a part of a liver.

She just happened to be in charge of flower decorations and will have to do ‘the last final check’ on them soon.

*-*-*

“Sir…”

Vern turned to look at Sangria, who cleverly avoided calling him ‘young master’ to prevent even little snippets of information from leaking.

Sangria’s face and hair were completely changed, even his demeanor felt slightly different, making him unrecognizable.

It was an impressive disguise spell, probably something from Sangria’s old days, before he took sanctuary under the late Archmage’s wings.

Vern was curious how exactly it worked, but he decided to politely not dig deeper.

He had a disguise spell of his own making, which Sangria didn’t hide his curiosity about, so the two may exchange their knowledge later, but for now, it was the best for both of them to hide their cards.

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“Let’s go.”

Vern ignored the worried look on Sangria's face as he headed towards the entrance to the auditorium.

According to the plan, the two split and pretended not to know each other.

Sangria would enter using one of the fake identities which were prepared for him beforehand.

As a highly sought after character, he couldn’t enter any magic exchange as himself, especially not when the current Archmage’s, Crimo’s, power was crumbling.

So he had a few fake identities which were only known to Crimo and the manager of this magic exchange.

‘In other words, if someone tries to capture me through Sangria it would mean that this manager leaked information.’

Though the two of them pretended not to know each other, there would be a few very perceptive people who noticed their short exchange a few seconds ago.

For now, this information would mean nothing for those people, but soon this little detail will turn into their golden goose.

Double checking his plans once again, Vern leisurely approached one of the stewards in charge of checking the identity.

It was a scruffy boy, barely entering his adulthood and with a bit of a nervous demeanor.

He was a perfect target for Vern’s exploits tonight.

As Vern entered the box the boy was sitting in and the door behind him closed, preventing anyone from peeking in, the boy shifted slightly. His eyes moved quickly, examining Vern.

It couldn’t be helped. Vern looked suspicious as hell right now.

Dressed in a hooded robe, and with a yellow fox mask, he barely passed as some mage with a weird fashion sense.

It wasn’t strange to hide one’s face at magic exchange, but Vern’s mask choice was particular.

Yellow which represented Flavun. Fox which symbolized Purpelus.

Most mages stayed away from those two things, opting for decorating their outfits with red colors and crows, which symbolized Vermillian.

If Vern wore a yellow snake mask or purple fox mask, he might have ended up being dragged to the guillotine under the suspicion of being a terrorist from Flavun or Purpelus state.

But as he was wearing symbols of rival states combined, it was treated as some kind of political satire and just frowned upon.

Sangria at least seemed to think it was some sorts of political maneuver.

Vern didn’t dare to tell him he just thought such a mask would be pretty and that’s why he wanted to wear it.

Now though, that mask seemed to boost Vern’s suspiciousness he so desired.

“Identity papers please.”

Vern handed the boy the clearly fake identity papers he prepared beforehand with the information Sangria provided to him.

The boy took a look at them and his face paled a bit.

He then looked up, examined Vern’s, changed with the spell, face and then looked at the documents.

The identity documents came with a picture, but the person in the picture had no way to be the same person as the one before him.

“I’m sorry, Sir… The picture doesn’t seem to match you very well...”

The boy looked around as if searching for a way out of this situation.

Vern just smiled.

“I know. I would be really disappointed in fate if I had such a face.”

This statement was almost a direct confirmation that it wasn’t his face in the picture.

Yet Vern continued with a smile.

“But I have papers, with a name that is on your list. So is there a problem with letting me in? Even if the face is a bit different?”

The boy’s eyes trembled.

Recalling what Saf taught him long time ago about entering parties they were not invited in, he said:

“I think you may be in trouble if you don’t follow the rules and let me in.”

— First, choose someone who has high potential to be ostracized. Those people will have less power to move freely and either will try very strictly stick to rules or will try to keep their heads low to avoid any damage. Remind them about this.

According to this, Vern chose the youngest among the stewards at the entrance. He didn’t know the work conditions, but the boy, who was clearly not from a good family, was sure to be scoffed at by prideful mages who attended the magic exchange.

“I– I will have to inform my superior about this.”

“Oh, it’s only right for you to inform your boss about it. But I’m sure you don’t want to make a commotion or make people outside wait, right?”

— Second, if they say they need to contact their superior, encourage them to do this. It’s only their duty to inform their boss about it, but you have to make sure that you’re permitted to enter, before they go to their boss. That’s because, third, when you’re already inside, among many people, the host will have a lot of trouble dragging you out quietly.

“... You’re right, Sir. Please enter…”

The boy said after hesitating and Vern gladly accepted.

“Thank you.”

He then strolled inside of the auditorium.

‘As expected. Manager opted for observing.’

Vern retracted his gaze, which met with the cold gazes of bodyguards staring at him from shadows moments ago.

If the manager would try to drag him out right now, it would draw a big commotion and reflect badly on the manager’s reputation. Therefore, he wouldn’t touch Vern until the end of the exchange.

Or at least that's what the manager was probably planning.

‘I don’t think you will be able to execute that plan.’

Vern just smiled as he thought about the pitiful manager and observed the presentations.

None of them grab his attention, as most of them were half promotions for presenting mage’s sponsor, half thanks for sponsor and maybe a one percent actually presenting an abstract of the research.

And if someone was interested in the research they would have to pay the mage and the sponsor to view the entire thing.

That was how magic ended up in the hands of a few.

It was a cruel world where money and connection meant everything. The world where knowledge had to be bought.

Vern was planning on utilizing the cruelty of this hell.

He stood up and headed to the stage when his turn came.

On the slip he gave when notifying he wanted to make a presentation were placeholders for sponsor and guild behind him and his name, but he left the two of them blank and filled only the last one.

Of course, it wasn’t his name.

“Now, the presentation of…Um…”

The announcer fumbled with her words as she looked down at the slip in her hands.

She was supposed to read out the guild and the sponsor, but there was nothing there.

What more the name…

She glanced at Vern who was already standing at the stage, smirking under a yellow fox mask.

“The presentation of Mr. Crow.”

Vern saw a few people in the front seats frown.

He also saw Sangria in the further back seats looking at him with anxious gaze.

He smiled at them with a soft, enchanting smile he often saw Am use when he was about to pierce a loophole in his opponent's rhetoric.

A bit of a mysterious fox-like grin.

“This is a part of an example formula for the spell I created.”

Vern displayed a paper with a drawn magic circle he prepared. It was a very clean circle. Presenting not more than twenty percent of the entire spell.

“It’s a fire type spell, which after activating can be sustained completely without mana or other energy source.”

At Vern's simple explanation, the auditorium which was filled with whispers fell silent and everyone gazes concentrated on Vern.

Even the staff members who probably weren’t magic practitioners were staring at him.

Vern didn’t say anything and just activated the spell.

A small fire ball floated above his fingertips. Normally it would not be very impressive, but mages watching it opened their eyes wide.

They couldn’t feel even a bit of the mana flow after the spell casting was finished.

It was either a very impressive fraud or a real thing.

If it was fraud it was already worthy of research, it was almost impossible to hide mana flow completely, but if it was a real thing…

‘You see this scene right?’

There was a reason why Vern chose the shape of fire ball, a basic fire combat spell.

He wanted those mages to imagine that possibility.

That scene of themselves surrounded by thousands of fire balls of their creation, launching at their enemies.

Normally it was impossible. No matter how simple the spell, it would draw mana to be maintained. It meant that there was a limit to how many fire balls a mage could conjure up and that limit was their mana reserve.

But if the spell didn’t use up mana after casting, a mage could conjure as many fire balls as they wanted until their mana reserves run out and not worry about maintaining the spell.

Hell, if they had time and determination they could spend some time casting fire balls every day, creating an army of fire balls at their disposal, while still having mana to cast other spells.

A dream too beautiful to be true.

“I’ll exchange the spell formula with anyone who pays the price or offers a deal I deem worthy of it.”

A smile on Vern’s lips was also beautiful, covering the madness of his proposal.

‘Worthy of it’ meant there was no limit to the price.

‘Anyone’ meant that everyone would be able to buy it.

It was just a matter of time of who will satisfy ‘Mr. Crow’ first.

“I’ll let you consider this offer until next week's magic exchange.”

With those words, Vern descended down the stage and left the auditorium under everyone's blazing eyes.

No one stopped him.

The war of nerves already began.