Chapter 93: Soaring Land Prices

“This is not the main issue. According to the intelligence brought back by our scouts, these creatures that have emerged from the underworld seem to be heading deliberately toward some particular destination.”

Hussein drew out a map and spread it across the table, pointing out several locations on it.

“Here, here, and here—these places have all seen underworld creatures appear. Fortunately, they are poorly adapted to life on the surface, and most have already been slain. But some escaped. Judging from the traces of their movement, their target should be this place.”

The earl looked at the spot where Hussein’s finger rested.

“Ah, Sevington. So someone is trying to profit from the chaos.”

The earl smiled faintly, a glint of coldness flashing at the corner of his eyes.

“Still, this method of controlling subterranean creatures is rather unusual. Is it some kind of magic, or divine art?”

Hussein stroked his chin and muttered to himself.

The earl immediately understood that his old friend had set his sights on the other side’s technique. Hussein was a true soldier; from the time he experimented with war mages and tried to fuse warfare with spellcraft, it was clear that whenever he found something useful, his first thought was always to use it for the army. That was also why, as an outsider, he had been able to force his way into the upper ranks.

“Right now, several legions are all holding the line at the front, defending against the monsters migrating northward. If we had this technology, it would indeed strengthen our defenses.”

Rarely did the earl agree with Hussein, but he did this time. “And the orc raids should be coming soon as well.”

“Yes,” Hussein said with a headache.

Before the Crown War, the elves had helped Nethera drive back the orc armies, but they had not been completely annihilated. Most of the remaining orcs had fled into the depths of the forests or into some perilous terrain.

And because orcs did not produce anything themselves, they had to raid before winter in order to stockpile enough food to survive the cold season; in doing so, they also reduced their surplus population.

“If they were going to infiltrate Nethera now, this would indeed be the best time.”

Hussein bared his straight white teeth in a self-mocking grin. “Who would have thought that back then, all of us were completely blind? They played us like fools, circled around, and then hid right beneath our noses.”

“Interesting. I, too, am eager to see just what sort of opponent this is.”

Even after leaving Sevington, the earl could still feel that the decisive battle of his destiny was drawing near, and the thought sent a thrill through his blood.

It was a remarkable intuition, untainted by hypnosis or human manipulation. The earl knew that even if that fellow were cornered and hunted down, he would still escape safely in the end—and in the end, they would meet.

“Still, old friend, I hear your boy has done something rather extraordinary.”

Hussein glanced at the earl, mentioning it casually and yet not casually at all.

“To think even the imperial capital’s intelligence has become so complete. Your scouts really do range far.”

“Hah, heh…” Hussein gave an embarrassed, awkward laugh.

The earl turned his head and said blankly, “The brat is just making a fuss. Why should even you be interested?”

“Uh…”

For a moment Hussein did not know what to say. Inside, he was howling, What the hell, do you even know how to talk to people? What do you mean, even I’m interested? Don’t you have the slightest idea what that kid has done...!

If anyone else had spoken to him like that, Hussein would have kicked them already. But given that he could not beat the man before him, he could only force himself to calm down for the moment.

There was nothing to be done; circumstances were stronger than men. Even though the casualty rate in the army he commanded had fallen somewhat, battle losses still occurred. If he had not diverted part of the military budget to train war mages, things would not be so strained now.

The soldiers’ pensions absolutely could not be withheld. He was even considering whether to sell off some of his own assets to subsidize military supplies.

With a couple of dry laughs, Hussein said in a somewhat gloomy tone, “Which top noble in Sevington doesn’t know about the golden land your family has on its hands?”

At that, Hussein could not help feeling a little regretful. He should have known long ago that this kid was capable of causing trouble like this. Why hadn’t he thick-skinned it and simply dragged him back first? If that failed, he should at least have secured a contract. But now look—everyone in the royal capital knew the fellow was basically Wealth incarnate, someone who could make money doing nearly anything.

In the earliest days, that parcel of land had been a gathering place for refugees; to put it bluntly, it was a slum.

It was not that no one had their eye on it, but many of the residents were professionals. Though not particularly strong, there were many of them.

Small factions could not afford to provoke them, nor did they have the money to swallow the whole place. As for the great noble houses, they looked down on it, proud as they were.

Then came the corruption incident. A large number of low-level professionals in the area were infected, and every morning two or three carts full of corpses had to be hauled away.

The atmosphere of terror spread everywhere. People died, fled, and before long the whole area was nearly a dead land. No one expected that Boren would suddenly make such a brazen move and buy the land outright. Though the price had been low, several hundred thousand gold coins was by no means a small sum. It was said that the Raymond Merchant House had risen to the ranks of the powerful, but after all, it had not existed for long and its foundations were still shallow. To put it plainly, there had not been enough accumulation and the family’s reserves were not deep. Many with sharp eyes could calculate that this money had been the Raymond Merchant House’s available liquid capital at the time, and Boren had used every last coin to buy land.

Even if the Raymond Merchant House’s employees were loyal, how many days could loyalty sustain them in the face of survival? And at the time, there were plenty of people waiting to laugh.

Some even opened gambling pools on whether Boren would swallow his pride and seek the earl’s help.

But Boren did not. Instead, he gathered people and had all the old houses in the center torn down, then built a massive structure of a style unlike anything else.

That dome-like architecture, however, was rather similar to Hussein’s own Shamsdin family style, so it was hard for Hussein not to notice.

In the end, the upper echelons of Nethera intervened, concentrating their efforts to purge the fallen and the corrupted.

Only then did everyone finally realize all at once.

Boren had struck gold!

The new Raymond Grand Hall occupied the main traffic artery of Sevington’s East Street. It was close to the east gate and adjacent to the black market of the eastern district. This was the gate through which most adventurers departed and returned. Most adventuring teams, after hauling their spoils back to Sevington with great labor, rarely searched for buyers within the city; instead, they would sell them nearby. As long as the price was not driven too low, adventurers could accept it. Add to that the fact that certain forbidden goods could be sold directly through the neighboring black market, and the profits multiplied several times over.

Do not be deceived by those top noble houses looking down on the black market and the slums. The reason this dark zone had been able to endure all along was that the upper echelons of Nethera had long had a hand in it.

...

“Boss!”

Raymond let out a soft breath and gently placed the scroll before Boren. Though he looked a little disheveled, he had kept the basic courtesies well enough.

To ensure the runic formation would function properly, one generally had to lie flat on the floor while engraving it. At first, everyone tried their best to remain tidy, but as time passed, they gradually relaxed and no longer cared, either lying prone or sitting directly on the ground.

Raymond was still in decent shape. Boren had taken a moment to check the other three, and they looked more or less like refugees from a slum.

“How is it? Did you get anything out of it?” Boren asked with a smile.

Though Raymond looked somewhat exhausted, his eyes were bright.

That was a sign of surging mental power.

The eyes of a spellcaster were always especially bright, and this was one of the ways to identify one.

“Yes, I gained quite a bit. Thank you, Boss. Ever since I advanced to the intermediate tier, I had not made any further progress. I never expected that this time, while engraving runes, my mental power would actually break through!”

Raymond said excitedly.

Boren nodded, genuinely happy for him as well.

With Raymond the first to finish and hand in his work, the others were also nearing completion.

Over the next two or three days, they finished one after another. Boren roughly inspected their work, and the completion rates were all in the high seventies. For most beginners, that was already very impressive.

The vast majority of assistants, when first exposed to runic formations, would only have a forty to fifty percent success rate when inscribing magic circles.

Of course, the reason their success rate was so high was not only their own talent, but also because Boren had relentlessly fed them results, never minding the waste of materials.

The special medium used to draw the runes had to be concocted from twenty or thirty different magical ingredients, and even then, only with the help of the chip could the formulation succeed one hundred percent of the time.

Even so, a single barrel of that medium cost over five thousand gold coins to prepare. It was pure money burning.

For most spellcasters, before reaching the advanced tier, they were basically just burning money. Noble houses had it easier, while commoners could mostly only become rogue mages.

Looking at the expectant gazes of Blake and Lilith, Boren habitually rubbed their heads. He did not know why—when he was young, he had hated it when others touched his head, but now that he was grown, he instead liked touching other people’s heads.

Still, the feeling was rather nice...

...