章節 13: Chapter 13. Virelith Army

I laid down on the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. Not a single muscle had been moved all day, yet I felt utterly drained. Bargaining online with a bunch of self-proclaimed merchants was more mentally taxing than any battle. Negotiating, haggling, and resisting the urge to call someone out for their outrageous prices—who knew that wealth-building could feel like a battlefield?

Earlier, a report had come in from Barns: the factory was complete. It could now mass-produce 10,000 mana potions a day. Ten thousand! The very thought was enough to bring a rare smile to my face.

My gamble with Barns had paid off brilliantly with his new potion.

Not that it was much of a gamble. Worst-case scenario? I'd lose a little gold—practically pocket change for me at this point. But the success felt sweeter because it had exceeded even my lofty expectations.

Then there was Shina, my second gamble. Handing over 5,000 magic cores to someone with no collateral had been risky, even by my standards. She could've disappeared into the horizon, leaving me with nothing but a shrug and a lesson in trust. But she didn't. Instead, she came back with the promised 40,000 gold.

Shina was now my middleman—a capable one at that. Watching her grow into her role gave me a sense of satisfaction. She'd proven that I was good at picking people. My investments weren't just numbers on a ledger—they were people, with talents that could either make or break my ambitions.

Then came Kirin. Ah, Kirin. Her talent was absurdly powerful—Battle Hunger. She could convert troops to higher grades with shocking efficiency. I had to admit, if Kirin ever decided to abandon the merchant life, I wouldn't be surprised to hear she'd robbed a kingdom or two for fun.

Still, I hoped she was someone with gratitude, someone who wouldn't forget the hand that helped her rise. Unlike me, I thought with a self-deprecating chuckle.

---

Fourteen days passed in relative calm until Shina returned to town. The air of celebration that usually followed her caravans was missing. Even the townsfolk, who normally flocked to greet her, sensed the unease in her demeanor.

Shina walked into the meeting room, her face pale. She handed over a hefty bag containing 1.1 million gold to Lucia, the payment for the 50,000 magic cores and 7,000 mana potions. But her hand trembled slightly as she spoke.

"The Virelith Kingdom has mobilized an army," she said, her voice tight with urgency. "Two hundred thousand soldiers, led by a Grade 3 general. They're coming for us."

The room fell silent. The weight of her words hung in the air like a storm cloud. Lucia's face went white.

I swallowed hard, forcing myself to remain calm. On the outside, I was the picture of stoicism. On the inside? Let's just say my brain was running circles, screaming in a panic.

---

As they try to figure out ways to defend the town , I took a step back—literally and figuratively. My hope now lay with Kirin and her promise to deliver nine Grade 3 troops.

If worse came to worst, I'd fall back on my backup plan: buying troops from the system. It was simple math. At 10 gold per soldier, I could overwhelm the enemy with sheer numbers. The idea of drowning the Virelith army in a sea of generic, faceless troops brought a twisted smile to my face.

But then, the doubt crept in.

"What if the Grade 3 general wipes out my Zerg tactics?" I muttered to myself. "I'd have no face left. The townsfolk would laugh at me. Shina might switch sides. Lucia—Lucia might—"

The thought of losing everything made me shiver. So I did what I always did in moments of stress: I distracted myself.

---

Later in the evening i walked over to Lucia's office.

Lucia's office was a cluttered fortress of papers, ledgers, and maps. The smell of ink and old parchment filled the air. Shelves lined the walls, groaning under the weight of scrolls and bound documents.

In the center of it all was Lucia herself, slouched over a mahogany desk that looked like it could snap under the weight of her responsibilities.

The dim light from the single oil lamp on her desk cast long shadows, giving the room an oppressive atmosphere. It was no wonder she looked like she hadn't slept in weeks.

"Lucia, you look like death warmed over," I said, leaning casually against the doorframe.

Her head snapped up, and she glared at me. Her eyes were bloodshot, her hair disheveled. "Unless you're volunteering to do this work, I don't see—"

"I've got it covered," I interrupted, flashing a grin and stepping aside. "Meet Benny."

An old man shuffled into the room. He was impeccably dressed, his butler uniform so crisp it could probably cut through the stacks of paper on Lucia's desk.

"Benny's got thirty years of experience," I explained, gesturing to him like he was a prized artifact. "He's eccentric, sure, but think of him as a... vintage addition to our workforce. Like an antique you can talk to!"

Lucia raised an eyebrow, glancing between me and Benny. "You're hiring an antique to help me?"

"Exactly!" I said, completely missing the sarcasm.

"And don't forget Rem," I added quickly before she could protest. "She's your new assistant. Brilliant mind. Unique ideas. Some might even say... extravagant."

Lucia sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Fine," she muttered. Then, after a moment, she looked up and managed a faint smile. "Thank you, Ace. Really."

I waved a hand dismissively. "Don't mention it. Literally, don't mention it. People might get the wrong idea and think I'm a caring lord or something."

---

Leaving a satisfied Lucia, as i believe her to be .

I sat in my study, the room dimly lit by the soft glow of mana crystals embedded in the walls. My desk was far neater than Lucia's, adorned with gold coins stacked into small towers and a meticulously organized ledger.

"189,000 mana crystals," I murmured to myself, running a finger down the column of numbers in the ledger. My eyes gleamed with pride as I stared at the total.

The sheer number was staggering, almost too good to believe.

Letting out a laugh, I leaned back in my chair and crossed my arms. "Man, the graveness of my situation really has escaped me," I said aloud, the irony not lost on me. "I'm doomed."

But was I really?

I leaned forward, scooping up a handful of gold coins from the desk. The cool weight of the metal felt reassuring. "I mean, I still have gold," I mused, letting the coins slip through my fingers like sand. The metallic clinking sound was music to my ears.

"I could buy an army," I continued, half to myself and half to the piles of gold surrounding me. "A massive one. Two hundred thousand soldiers. That's, what? Two million gold? Pocket change, really."

The thought of spending that much gold, however, made my stomach churn. "What if they lose?" I muttered, frowning. "What if they all get decimated? I'd be left with nothing but an empty vault and a bruised ego."

The idea was horrifying. Losing my wealth was a fate worse than any battle.

"No, no, no," I said, shaking my head vigorously. "Better to wait. To strategize. To hoard. Yes, hoarding is always the safest bet."

And so, with that comforting thought, I leaned back once more, staring at the glittering piles around me. Sure, doom might be on the horizon, but at least I'd be fabulously wealthy while facing it.