“What are you suggesting, young master?” the soldier asked, wary yet seemingly intrigued by the suggestion.

“Before that, what is your name again?” Elysian inquired, smiling as he walked closer to the older boy.

“Tho...Thomas, young master,” he replied, taking a step back when he saw the young noble approaching closer than anticipated.

“Where’s that confidence of yours from earlier?” Elysian snickered, getting a chuckle from the surrounding soldiers. “Relax, Thomas. I’m not here to bite you.”

“I’m not af..afraid of you,” the older boy snorted, puffing his chest out in a show of courage. His false bravado, however, fell short. The trembling knees were a dead giveaway.

Shaking his head, Elysian chuckled and remarked, “Of course, Thomas, you’re not scared.” Turning around, he addressed all the soldiers present. “Why not have Thomas and I race an entire lap? I’ll bet ten silver coins, while each of you can just give one iron. Isn’t that a sweet deal?” When no one responded and just looked at each other, waiting for someone to respond first, Elysian immediately quipped, “Why the hesitation? Aren’t you confident with Thomas here?” Patting the young soldier’s arm, he added, “Thomas, it seems your comrade here isn't confident in you.”

“Hey! He’s already tired. Just now, he can hardly get up,” the older boy pointed, scowling at the soldiers around them who doubted his ability. “You all know I’m the fastest runner around here. I’ll leave this brat in the dust.”

“Hey, hey. Why get personal? Tsk,” Elysian said, shaking his head mockingly. Smiling widely as he surveyed the crowd, he addressed everyone. “So, anyone here who wants to accept the proposed bet? You’ll regret it if you don’t.”

“Boring!” a voice suddenly exclaimed from the back of the gathered soldiers.

“Come again?” Elysian questioned, looking in the direction of the voice. The soldiers around them suddenly parted, giving way to a short, old man in tattered clothing. He carried a sack over his shoulder, which acted as his bag, and clutching a bottle of alcohol in his other hand.

“I said that it’s boring. Don’t you agree?” the man asked, a grin spreading across his face as he looked at the soldiers around him. He continued, “Really, a race? Is that the best you can come up with? You're all soldiers here. Why the heck are you competing on who could run faster?!”

image [https://i.imgur.com/QFB3qLV.png]

‘Worried about me?

Ha ha. It seems you’re really starting to like me.

Hmm, it seems Jareth has low talent and potential, more likely lower than mine, from what I’m reading. Despite this, he reached a high level of cultivation through his persistence alone. This means that he faced many hardships and experiences to reach his current level. While admirable, it also makes him extremely dangerous. I can relate to this because I’m like him in the past, and I know just how lethal I used to be.

Hmm, whether he has lower talent or not, his cultivation is way higher than mine at the moment, and that’s a serious problem.

I really need to be careful. From what the Eye says, this person is extremely dangerous. Coming from the artifact, this warning is something that I needed to take seriously.’

“Good morning, sir,” Elysian greeted, bowing respectfully. “May I know who you are?”

“Hmm, you must be Thornwick’s son,” the stranger mused, studying the boy. Grinning suddenly, he added, “You look like your father, but your personality is more like your mother. Good, I hate talking to another insufferable fool.” He snorted for a moment at the idea before taking a swig from the bottle.

‘I’m sure I haven’t met him before. He seems to know my parents. And the way he addressed the Baron, he could only be my father's comrade.

Let’s dictate the direction of this conversation and add a tinged of mystery to make it a little interesting.’

“Jareth Caldwell, an old comrade of my father,” Elysian stated, smirking a little when the old man assessed him more carefully. “It’s nice to meet you, sir.”

“Do you know me?” the mercenary inquired with a curious smile. Pondering for a moment, he continued, “Hmm, Thornwick isn’t the type who talks about me or his past. Maybe he changed, sitting in that posh chair of his.”

Cedric quickly walked towards them. Bowing respectfully, he said, “Good morning, my lord. It’s great to see you again.”

“My lord?” Jareth repeated, snickering at the word. “I think you’ve mistaken me for someone, commander. I’m no noble, and certainly not a lord. I’m just a simple mercenary doing his thing.”

“I’m sorry, sir. I’ve misspoke...”

“Just relax, commander. I’m not here to make trouble,” the mercenary quickly interrupted, sighing at the soldier’s deference. “By the way, where’s Thornwick?”

“I’m sorry, sir, but the Baron is not currently in Ironspire,” Cedric immediately replied, sweating profusely while averting the older man's eyes.

The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

‘This is fascinating. I’ve never seen the commander this nervous before. Well, except for my father, and that’s a given.

This only means this mercenary is extremely dangerous for Cedric himself to act this way.’

“Don’t tell me he’s fighting in another war again?” Jareth questioned, aghast at the news he just heard.

“Yes, sir.” The commander nodded. “He was called by the capital to take part in the offensive against the aggression of Eldoran.”

Shaking his head in disapproval, Jareth stated, “What aggression? Those greedy bastards in the capital are at it again, trying to encroach on something that isn’t theirs.“ Scowling at the thought, he continued, “Tsk, I’ve told that boy many times that he should just give up this useless position if he kept getting pulled in by those snotty nobles. Making him a lowly baron and then asking him to return the favor?” He snorted. “That fool, he could’ve just bought this position or possibly even a higher one if he had stayed as a mercenary. What an idiot for doing all this fighting for free.”

‘Calling my father a brat, Cedric didn’t even react. Hmm, their relationship must be close. He isn’t just an ordinary comrade from his mercenary days.’

“His Lorship is just doing his duty…”

“Duty, my ass. Stop defending that fool. I’m tired of this,” the mercenary declared, shifting his focus to the young noble. “As I was about to say earlier, how about making the betting more exciting than your previous dull suggestion?”

“If you’ve got a better idea, I’m all ears,” Elysian remarked, waiting curiously for his suggestion.

“I’ve recently acquired this piece of relic from a ruin up north,” Jareth stated, unveiling a weathered and rusted curved black dagger bearing the scars of countless and forgotten battles. Marred by the passage of time, the sheath and hilt were so corroded that you could even see holes in them. Anyone who’d dare use it would immediately think that they were in more danger from the relic than their enemy. In simple terms, it was a piece of garbage, and everyone shared the same opinion about the relic.

Planting the dagger deep into the ground, Jareth continued, “Anyone who manages to take this from the ground will win the bet.”

“Sir, is that a relic?” a soldier inquired, dubious about the earlier claim. “Aren’t you afraid of getting lockjaw from that thing?”

Everyone suddenly laughed, and even Jareth joined in. “This is the only relic left from my previous expedition. No one seems interested in buying it from me.”

“I’m not surprised,” another soldier quipped, snorting at the idea. “Who would even dare consider buying that piece of trash?”

image [https://i.imgur.com/rFtgTaV.png]

Elysian’s eye suddenly widened as he read the remark from the Eye of Sacraeon. Coming from the artifact, this was a high praise.

‘This might really be a powerful relic. I’m incredibly curious now about what it does. I must get my hands on that thing no matter what.’

“Don’t worry; this relic is not the prize,” the mercenary remarked. Grinning at them, he showed a gold coin and stated, “I will put one gold coin in the pot of money, while each of you will only need one iron coin. As I said earlier, whoever manages to take this dagger from here will win the competition. This means there will only be one winner, and that winner will get all the money in the pot.”

The soldiers were captivated by the glint of gold coin on the old mercenary’s hand, greed clearly evident in their eyes.

Turning to the young noble, he smirked and quipped, “By the way, young master, you gotta cough up ten silver to join this bet.”

“What?!” Elysian exclaimed, genuinely surprised when he heard the amount. “Why on earth do I need to pay ten silver while they only need one iron?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Jareth responded, grinning at him. “You’re rich, and they’re poor.”

“I’m the youngest here,” Elysian stated, raising a brow.

“So?” the merchant asked casually, as if not caring.

“Shouldn’t it be fair?” the young noble inquired, aghast at the treatment he’d received. “You’re bullying the youngest kid here. Aren’t you ashamed?”

“Kid, you’re born with a golden spoon in your mouth, and you’re asking me about fairness?” Jareth questioned, scoffing at the thought. “Quit complaining. Just pay the ten silver. Aren’t you embarrassed in front of your soldiers here?”

Elysian sighed, furrowed his brow, and responded, “Okay, okay. I don’t want to be known as a cheapskate. So, for the soldiers here, I will pay ten silver.”

“Good,” the merchant said, nodding in satisfaction and thinking that he’d won.

“Before I join the competition, though, I need you to agree to include that dagger of yours as a reward,” Elysian stated, arching an eyebrow in challenge.

“This dagger?” Jareth asked curiously, pointing to the relic. “Why? Even though this might have been valuable in the past, it’s worthless now.”

“If it’s worthless, giving it to me shouldn’t be a problem, right?” the young noble smirked, carefully studying the mercenary’s expression and reaction.

“Do you know something about this artifact?” Jareth inquired, observing him seriously.

“What would I know about that piece of trash?” Elysian snorted, shaking his head. “I don’t care about that damn relic. What I care about is the glyphs written on it.”

“There’s no glyphs in it. I’ve checked,” Jareth stated.

“If there is or isn’t, I’ll be the judge of that,” Elysian declared. Acting as if his patience was running out, he continued, “Will you give it to me or not? If not, then you’re just wasting my time.”

“I won’t give it to you, but I will include it in the reward,” the mercenary responded. “Is that acceptable?”

‘Good, I played it right! Now, the only thing I need to do is win this competition.’

“Okay, I agree,” Elysian stated, trying his best to restrain his emotions. “Before we start, can you go over the rules for a minute? You weren’t clear earlier.”

“Ah, yes,” Jareth responded. “As I said earlier, anyone who takes this dagger from the ground will win it all. My job is to stop anyone from getting this relic,” he stated. Thinking for a moment, he nodded and continued, “Thirty minutes should be fair. I’ll defend the relic for thirty minutes, and anyone who gets the dagger within that time will win all the money plus the relic. As a bonus, I’ll allow you to use anything, even real weapons.”

“Is that all the rules?” Elysian questioned, sighing.

“Yes,” the mercenary replied, nodding. “Why? Is there a problem?”

“Are you taking us for fools?!” the young noble questioned, scowling at the old man, who was acting as if he were oblivious to what he was doing. “We may be young, but we’re not idiots!”