Steel rang against steel.
Richard stepped back just in time, the wooden blade grazing past his shoulder instead of striking his chest. He pivoted, adjusted his footing, and countered, not fast enough to win, but clean enough to force distance.
"Again," Roosevelt said.
Valkyrie exhaled sharply, eyes bright with focus. Krystoff rolled his shoulders, already resetting his stance. John said nothing, as usual, but his grip tightened.
They were all sweating. Breathing hard. Focused.
This wasn't new to Richard.
What was new was the difference.
They were catching up.
Roosevelt circled them slowly, hands behind his back. "You're improving," he said. "All of you. But improvement doesn't mean equality. Don't confuse progress with mastery."
His eyes lingered on Richard for half a second longer than the others.
"Dismissed," he said. "But don't scatter."
The group paused.
Richard took a breath. "Meet me after magic lessons," he said. "All of you. Same place."
Krystoff raised a brow. "That serious?"
Richard nodded. "Yes."
He caught the mages before their lesson began.
Jucelis listened without interrupting.
Nibbo squinted, already suspicious.
Supremo grinned. "Is this about money?"
Richard didn't deny it.
"Same place," he said again. "After."
They gathered in an unused storage room deep within the castle.
Stone walls. One narrow window. A single table.
On it sat an object wrapped in cloth.
Eldren Vaelor stood beside it, arms crossed, expression smug in a way only a man already counting profits could manage.
"What's this?" Nibbo asked.
Richard stepped forward and pulled the cloth away.
Silence fell.
The object beneath caught the lightflat, impossibly smooth, framed in polished metal. It reflected the room perfectly. Every face. Every flicker of the torch.
Valkyrie inhaled sharply.
"That's…" Krystoff leaned closer. "That's me."
Supremo waved a hand in front of it. "It moves when I move."
Joen froze. "…How?"
Eldren cleared his throat, pleased. "Gentlemen. Ladies. Allow me to introduce a mirror."
No one laughed.
Because no one could.
"This isn't affordable," John said finally.
Eldren smiled wider. "Correct."
Richard nodded. "It's not meant to be."
They looked at him.
"We start with nobles," Richard said calmly. "High price. Limited supply. No explanations beyond craftsmanship and exclusivity."
Nibbo frowned. "Isn't that"
"Manipulative?" Richard finished. "Yes."
He met their eyes evenly.
"But it works."
Eldren leaned forward. "Premium product. Premium clients. Prestige sells itself."
"And when it spreads?" Jucelis asked.
"It will," Richard said. "But slowly. On our terms."
Supremo whistled. "You're serious."
"I have to be."
Later, when they dispersed, when Eldren was already muttering calculations to himself and the others were still whispering excitedly, Richard stayed behind.
He looked at the mirror again.
At his reflection.
A child's body. A noble's posture. Eyes far older than they should be.
In his past life, money had been survival.
Here, it was leverage.
Allowance was permission.
This was freedom.
Not because he wanted excess.
But because he understood something now that he hadn't before:
If he wanted to protect what he had gained… his friends, his place, his future he couldn't rely on strength alone.
Power spoke many languages.
And gold was one of the loudest.
Richard reached out and covered the mirror again.
Somewhere in the city, interest was already turning into attention.
And attention, sooner or later, always became conflict.