Chapter 19: Charging Against the Minotaurs
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Ivy glimpsed hope, only to have it swiftly extinguished by confusion. Even if the Winter Witch had indeed stayed in Creekwood Town for a time and penned a magic tome during her stay, how easily could one uncover it? This was no mere manuscript left behind by some obscure wizard; it was a monumental magical work crafted by the empire’s greatest elemental sculptor. Were this information to leak, even without proof, countless seekers would flock to the empire’s border. Judging by the curse object’s level, undoubtedly above the fifth tier, this would be a major case requiring direct handling by the bureau chief and experts from the central office.
The captain and his “friend” had indeed taken a tremendous risk, fully aware that such intelligence could ignite a war, thus choosing to keep it buried.
Ivy’s mind raced endlessly, yet no matter how hard she pondered, she could not fathom where this grand magical tome might have gone, nor who in this border town could have merited the Winter Witch’s prolonged stay.
Her gaze drifted past the noisy crowd and settled on Ethan.
Seeing the two mugs of beer in Ethan’s hands, thoughts of the magic book were instantly cast far aside, replaced by a flush of warmth rushing to her temples.
Ivy felt certain that working alongside Ethan would one day kill her on the job—while she had gone to buy some intelligence, this man had been easily duped by a drink scam!
She knew the guild clerk’s income well; with his salary, saving up two gold lions was no small feat. The two beers he held could easily shatter months of frugality.
Before departure, Ethan had confidently sworn to her he wouldn’t be fooled.
Silently, she approached the beaming Ethan, eavesdropping on his conversation with those nearby. They spoke of a young man who had not been taken away under guard; the mischievous guests suggested the guards let him stay a while longer, so he might witness what came next.
A gentlemanly-dressed man said with interest, “He’s here looking for his fiancée. I heard he had to mortgage his house just to secure an entry ticket here. But, as it turns out, his fiancée was long sold by her gambler father for money—see the dancer over there? She usually entertains on merchant ships. If fortune smiles upon her, a wealthy merchant or noble might redeem her, making her their mistress.”
“No wonder he got into a fight at the tavern,” Ethan nodded. From that moment, the ship was thick with the presence of minotaurs.
Ivy, slipping behind unnoticed, shook her head. Ethan was not only easily scammed by drink hustlers but also harbored a misplaced sense of justice in such a place. Such a person’s fate could only be one: drowning in debt in Fireplace Bay, forced to pawn himself off when desperate.
Ethan asked, “But isn’t human trafficking banned in the empire?”
“First time in Fireplace Bay?” The gentleman eyed him oddly. “But you must have used teleportation magic. Fireplace Bay isn’t within imperial territory, so imperial laws don’t apply here.”
Here, you could buy anything—even a living person.
That was the pledge of the Lofic Consortium to all their clients.
Only newcomers would be shocked by such matters. “In fact, imperial citizens themselves have long been among Fireplace Bay’s hottest commodities.”
“Brother, thanks for the info! Here’s a drink to you!”
That “brother” pleased the gentleman greatly. He took the beer Ethan offered and downed it heartily. The loud gulping proclaimed his excellent mood. Ivy wanted to intervene but suddenly witnessed a strange scene—as the gentleman drank, Ethan abruptly stopped mid-sip.
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Immediately, several burly men emerged from the crowd and surrounded the two.
Ethan handed his mug to the middle-aged man leading them, who chuckled and gave him fifty silver antelopes.
“Good brew...?”
The gentleman, having finished his drink, now noticed the burly men and turned pale.
Ethan gave him a thumbs-up. “Refreshing! Made by the master brewer of Windless City, using top-quality hops and wheat. Such masterful craft you can only taste in Fireplace Bay. It’s priced at just one gold lion now!”
What followed was a friendly exchange between the middle-aged man and the gentleman. Ethan, unwilling to disturb the harmony, stepped back and left the scene to them.
Only then did he notice Ivy. “Oh, you’re back!”
Instinctively, Ivy took a step back to distance herself from Ethan. “What were you doing just now?”
“Selling beer to earn some extra coin. Quite a crowd gathered, but most knew the bartender, so I arranged that for every cup I sold, I’d get fifty silver antelopes. You know, people’s defenses drop when watching a spectacle.”
As a true romantic warrior, Ethan sensed the minotaurs’ presence and couldn’t resist selling them a beer at one gold lion each to vent his frustration.
Ivy was momentarily speechless.
Her assessment had been completely wrong. Ethan hadn’t been fooled; instead, he tried to profit from the youth’s tragic plight. This man had no trace of righteousness—he was a seasoned veteran of Fireplace Bay’s underbelly!
Ethan sighed, “Fireplace Bay’s a great place—making money here beats working any day.”
At this rate, he might soon have enough to buy the book.
As for the young man’s fate, Ethan thought striking a blow against the minotaurs might be a kind of aid.
The gentleman, having been charged one gold lion, glared fiercely at Ethan, then lost interest in the show, scoffing and storming off.
Clearly, Ethan was not alone.
The jovial atmosphere was broken by footsteps. A youth clad in an elegant white suit caught everyone’s attention. A silver whip hung at his waist—a rare weapon in the empire. His golden, shoulder-length wavy hair and confident stride revealed his noble status, even behind a mask.
After a brief explanation from the guards, the youth waved his hand and said, “How much is their ransom? I’ll pay.”
Suddenly, the deck fell silent. The crowd’s expressions varied, and even the youth himself stared incredulously at the newcomer.
Everyone thought him mad—on Lofic Consortium turf, causing trouble meant a steep ransom. Offenders faced two fates: slavery until debts were cleared or pawning themselves to the guild, selling everything to raise funds.
“One hundred gold lions, plus his fiancée.”
After negotiating with the steward, the guards quoted the price. Upon hearing it, malicious smiles spread across the onlookers’ faces.
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They were eager to watch this spotlight-stealing youth fall from grace. Who would gamble a hundred gold lions on a stranger?
At that moment, a veiled black-haired maid, clutching a box, hurried to the youth.
“Master, what are you doing?”
“Oh, perfect timing. Pay them the hundred gold lions.”
“One hundred gold lions!?” The maid seemed shocked, whispering, “The master knows you waste money and will be upset!”
“Didn’t you say I can buy anything I want in Fireplace Bay? Well, I found what I want.”
The youth’s voice was resolute, each word weighty: “I want to buy ‘justice.’”
Ethan glanced at the fifty silver antelopes in his hand, then at the youth who had silenced everyone with his words. Today, he faced the world’s inequalities head-on.
Though the maid sighed, they truly had a hundred gold lions.
“Miss.”
Ethan rubbed his eyes behind his mask and pointed at the youth, confirming with Ivy, “Is that person... glowing?”
He felt the youth radiated golden light, the same hue as gold lions.
This man looked like a true romantic warrior—probably on the same side as him.
Ivy pressed her palm to her forehead. “You’re short on money?”
“A bit.”
Ethan nodded honestly.
He hadn’t been so desperate before, but arriving at Fireplace Bay made him want to browse the ship’s bookstore.
“Ask me if you need money. I can lend you some.”
“What’s the interest?”
Ethan’s cautious gaze made Ivy stumble. She replied coldly, “No interest. Just don’t hang around those drink hustlers—I can’t afford to lose face for you.”