Heading to the Mages' Guild, Phield planned to sell the magic scrolls. These scrolls were somewhat old, and Phield worried that if he kept them any longer, they'd turn into a pile of waste paper.
"Hmm… this ancient magic rune should be a product from eight years ago—efficient and powerful, but unfortunately, time has worn away much of the mana." A mage, after carefully examining the scroll, set down his crystal and said amiably, "A total of one hundred gold coins—I'll take them all."
"Only one hundred?" Now that Phield had some money in hand, he naturally looked down on such a paltry sum. "A single magic scroll sells for 15 gold coins, and there are 23 here—no less than two hundred gold coins, or no deal."
The mage stroked his beard: "Don't rush—these scrolls are too old. Magic is better when it's newer. As a form of energy, time only erodes magical energy, and these runes are outdated anyway. Modern magic scrolls are more efficient."
Hiss~ Pretty scientific—thought magic would be like in fantasy novels, where the older it is, the stronger.
As the science of this world, magic iterations only eliminate the old ones.
"One hundred and fifty—that's the bottom line." Phield's face turned green.
After stroking the scrolls, the mage said: "Deal—consider it making a friend."
"Is this a magic book? It's way too expensive!" Phield curiously picked up a ornate book titled 'Flame Robe' from the shelf, priced at 320 gold coins.
"It's a very rare instant spell, and a one-time consumable."
Tapping the book lightly with his staff, the mage patiently explained: "Drip your blood into this groove, and you'll automatically master this new spell. The runes in the book are magical patterns—you don't need to understand them."
Phield was shocked: "That simple?"
"Otherwise? Spells are for understanding the mysteries of nature and communicating with rules. Of course, the simpler, the better. Mages are people too—no one likes poring over a bunch of outdated old stuff."
"But mastering it is useless without mana to activate it." The mage kindly reminded him.
Phield had no mana at all. In the entire Nightfall Domain, only Ashina had supernatural power, and it was divine power at that—seemed like buying magic books would be pointless.
"Give me this 'Bestiary of Winged Sight.'"
Phield glanced at the approaching figure, a barely perceptible smile curling his lips.
"An interesting choice—this spell is cast on a flying bird, then you gain the bird's vision, letting you experience the joy of soaring through the skies. Just two hundred gold coins."
"I'll take it—I'm very interested in flying." Phield decisively reached for his money.
"I'll pay 201 gold coins!" The cheap big-nosed man butted in again.
This time, the mage ignored him, just glancing at the big nose and saying flatly: "This gentleman was here first."
Phield mentally gave the mage a thumbs up—a conscientious merchant.
"Add another 10 gold coins—this book's mine!" The big nose got anxious.
The mage couldn't be bothered with this idiot, but turning his head, he saw Phield frantically winking and signaling him.
"Al… alright, but you need to pay now." The mage was puzzled but smartly played along with Phield.
Phield immediately put on an anxious look, fuming: "I don't believe you can pay!"
The big-nosed man immediately pulled out a merchants' guild voucher and slapped it on the table: "Guaranteed by Baron Adrian Ross's deposit."
"Then give me the 'Illuminating Aurora.'" Phield said with a grim face.
"I'll still outbid by 1 gold coin."
Soon, the big-nosed man had deducted one thousand three hundred gold coins from Adrian's deposit—this time, it was his turn to break into a cold sweat.
At that moment, the guard who'd gone on the errand returned.
"Fine, you win." Phield snorted with a laugh, walked out a couple of steps, then turned back: "Congratulations—enjoy the fun."
As soon as Phield stepped out.
"Return them all! Magic books are way too expensive!" The big-nosed man wiped the cold sweat from his forehead—the two-thousand-gold-coin limit nearly couldn't hold. If the baron found out, he didn't dare imagine the consequences.
The mage's face darkened: "Are you messing with me? I'm the chief mage of Maple Leaf City! You snatched the order from a noble customer, and now you want a refund? I think someone wants to be turned into a sow by magic and served on commoners' tables."
"Then can I just take them back at original price? Mage sir, consider the premium a gift."
The big-nosed man backed down—mages weren't to be trifled with.
The mage snorted coldly: "Since you bought in Baron Adrian's name, he'll need to refund in person."
"Fine." The big-nosed man shrank his neck, and together with the guards, he staggered out hugging thick stacks of instant magic books. As soon as he stepped out, he muttered curses: "Damn old fossil—if Baron Adrian finds out, I'll be skinned for sure. Better discuss with Lens."
"You bastard—how dare you mess with my wife!"
"Brothers, hack him to pieces!"
Hysterical roars erupted from the crowd, instantly causing screams everywhere.
The big-nosed man was loading the magic books onto the cart when he heard this and perked up—someone more miserable than him, how wonderful.
However, he saw several furious, twisted faces lunging at him.
"Kill this scum!"
A dozen or so vagrants in ragged linen clothes, wielding rusty daggers, tackled the big-nosed man to the ground. A pockmarked guy with gaps in his teeth stabbed wildly at the big beard's neck—in the midst of monstrous screams, blood gushed like a fountain, splattering everywhere.
The big beard wanted to scream, but his windpipe was brutally severed—he could only make leaking "hiss hiss~" sounds.
Regret—the big-nosed man's mind was filled only with endless remorse. Now, he understood: after he bought the church supplies, Phield had immediately sent a guard to hire these mad killers!
A typical vicious noble! He had a happy family, but because of that bastard Lens, he'd sought thrills provoking a noble.
This time, he was truly done for.
Indeed, nobles could easily crush commoners to death.
Even those thugs might not face heavy punishment—just bribe with gold coins, and they'd be out soon. After all, the dead don't provide gold, but the living do.
Lens, fuck your mother!
"Uh~" After twitching a couple of times, the big-nosed man died with eyes wide open.
The coachman, guards, and two helpers suffered too—surrounded by the bloodthirsty thugs, stabbed wildly with tetanus blades, they soon lay in pools of blood.
Women screamed at the top of their lungs. Those eager for spectacle pushed inward, while the timid fled outward. The streets, already cluttered with debris and garbage, instantly descended into chaos.
Phield's lips curved up as he nodded to Sam.
Sam and the others, relying on their plate armor, swaggered into the crowd and led away the horses loaded with the big-nosed man's goods.
Meanwhile, Lens's eyes bulged, his sclera bloodshot, staring in disbelief at it all. Clearly, everything had been under his plan—how had it suddenly turned out like this?
That stupid baron! Damn him!
"Damn, those goods and money!"
Lens realized Phield's intent, cold sweat immediately trickling down his back. He was doomed—he'd misappropriated no small sum, and now it was all stolen by Phield! If Baron Adrian found out, he'd skin him alive.
Lens muttered to himself: "I was just messing with him—no, it doesn't even count as messing; this was just legitimate business competition! How could he use such despicable methods!"
In the chaotic crowd, Lens spotted Phield standing on the steps.
"Having fun?" Phield mouthed, then mimed a knife with his hand, drawing it across his neck twice. Under Lens's dumbfounded gaze, he turned and sauntered away.
"Let's go—skip buying supplies for now; head outside the city. Also, have someone keep an eye on Kuchi's movements."
Stretching comfortably, Phield felt ecstatic inside. Today was a great day—another nearly two thousand gold coins earned. Indeed, once you cast off the shackles of worldly morals, gold coins come flooding in like a tide.
Dare to disgust me? Watch me play you to death.
It was time to give him a little business warfare shock.
Imagined business warfare: Business elites relying on wisdom and strategy, engaging in brilliant gamesmanship.
Real business warfare: Use a bit of pocket change to solve the problem directly on the physical level.
"My lord, we spent a total of eight gold coins. I swear by the goddess, we followed your instructions completely—never mentioned your name the whole time." The guard fawned with a smile as he handed over the remaining coins.
"You did very well." Phield, in turn, rewarded him with two silver coins.
The other guards felt a surge of envy—delivering a message and finding someone could earn two silver coins. From now on, they had to show their faces more in front of the baron.
…
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