Chapter 225 - 224: Old Master
A golden light spilled out.
There were at least several hundred Gold Coins inside.
It was more than enough to solve his immediate crisis.
"Just this much money... it’s nowhere near enough to restore the Wenmir Clan."
Vance suppressed his soaring spirits, trying not to appear too eager.
In business, the most important thing was to secure as much leverage as possible during negotiations.
Although Vance said this, the fact that the other party could casually produce such a sum meant their financial resources must be immense.
’What does he want?’
’The only thing I have left to offer is probably my title as a noble, right?’
"Heh heh... Of course, I didn’t expect to form a stable alliance with you over just this sum of money."
The man chuckled softly.
"This is just a small gift for our first meeting. As long as you agree to my conditions, a steady stream of money will continue to be sent your way."
"State your conditions... What do you want?"
"People." The man’s answer was blunt.
"People?"
Vance was confused, his brow furrowing even deeper. "Laborers? You need them for work?"
"No... I want all of them. Their bodies, and even their souls."
The man’s fingers pressed against the tabletop.
"As long as you periodically deliver a batch of people to me according to my requirements, I can provide you with a sufficient amount of money."
"You..."
Vance’s pupils contracted. He understood.
"This is a serious crime! If this gets out, even I, a noble, wouldn’t be able to escape punishment!"
"Then just don’t get caught, right?"
The man’s reply remained nonchalant. "This is how a deal works. Whether you agree or not is entirely up to you."
A fierce struggle raged within Vance.
On one hand, he envisioned the past glory of his clan, a scene where nobles from all corners once again regarded him with respect.
On the other, he saw the miserable end that awaited him if he were exposed: ruined and disgraced, hanging from the gallows.
’Should I give up... or agree?’
Vance’s breathing grew more and more rapid.
Finally, all the struggle and hesitation in his eyes were replaced by the grim determination of a gambler.
Vance snatched the money pouch from the table and squeezed out a single word through gritted teeth.
"Deal!"
After that, the mysterious man in the black robes did indeed keep his promise.
Whenever Vance delivered a group of people to him as instructed, he would provide a generous financial reward.
However, as the deals continued, the man’s appetite grew larger, and his demands became more and more stringent.
At first, it was just vagrants and criminals.
Dealing with such people wasn’t difficult for the Wenmir Clan.
After all, they still enjoyed some of their ancient noble privileges, including the right to dispose of the "dregs" within their territory as they saw fit.
But soon, the targets became ordinary commoners.
This had already crossed a legal red line in the Kingdom.
Vance hesitated, but then he thought of the family’s businesses, which were slowly starting to recover, and the ever-increasing wealth in his accounts.
He gritted his teeth and did it anyway.
Recently, however, the other party had become even more demanding.
He had started demanding Professionals.
Of course, Vance couldn’t have his own guards or hire other Adventurers to carry out kidnappings.
So, he could only come up with an insidious plan.
Under the guise of posting commissions, he sent one small team after another down a road of no return.
Throughout this sinful process, he received enormous funding from the man in the black robes.
The Wenmir Clan was thus freed from its dire, declining state, finally able to catch its breath.
Vance now had the capital to start over.
At first, he could still delude himself.
’They’re just vagrants and criminals,’ he’d think. ’They were going to die anyway. I was just making sure their value wasn’t wasted.’
But when it came to commoners and Adventurers, his heart grew uneasy, and he felt that his sins were monstrous.
But later, as the number of transactions increased, he gradually grew numb and learned to deceive himself.
’After all, in this world, isn’t everyone devouring someone else?’
Those fat-cat merchants, when they buy grain from farmers at low prices, they’re devouring the farmers’ sweat and toil.
Those high-and-mighty great nobles, when they fight wars over territory, they’re devouring the lives of soldiers.
’Let the filth and sin of the Wenmir Clan end with me...’
’Once this is all over, I will never contact the man in the black robes again. I’ll cut off all ties with him completely.’
During this time, it wasn’t as if Vance hadn’t had his own questions about the robed man’s identity.
Once, after a transaction was complete, he finally couldn’t resist asking.
"What is it that you people do? Are you slave traders?" Vance asked tentatively.
"We don’t capture them to be slaves, but to be sacrifices." The robed man seemed to have no intention of hiding the purpose of the living from Vance.
"Sacrifices?" Vance was a bit stunned by the word.
"Yes, sacrifices. We offer them to a god, presenting our sincerity to the Supreme One," the man in the black robes said.
Despite realizing he was treading on a taboo topic, Vance couldn’t restrain his curiosity and continued to ask.
"Among the current Six Gods, it seems none of them require living sacrifices, do they?"
"Of course not, among the existing Six Gods."
The man in the black robes chuckled lightly.
"Because the one we serve... is the Old Master."
...
SQUELCH...!
Gray moved swiftly, thrusting his Longsword into the dessicated corpse’s chest.
The Demon’s claws, reaching for him, froze in place.
He twisted the Longsword, churning the remaining flesh, then yanked it out, sending a splash of foul-smelling yellow liquid flying.
The dessicated corpse staggered a few steps before slowly toppling backward.
Like Skeleton Soldiers, Dessicated Corpses were Simple-grade Demons, also mutated from human corpses.
They were very low-level Undead Demons.
The difference was that Skeleton Soldiers were pure bone, while Dessicated Corpses still had a layer of skin hanging on them, with some flesh and blood underneath.
They were a bit more disgusting.
On the other side, brilliant Fireballs flashed and exploded one after another.
Seven or eight Dessicated Corpses, along with some Skeleton Soldiers mixed in, swarmed in from the rooms on both sides of the corridor.
But Zelir took them all down in rapid succession.
Each exploding Fireball carried a powerful Magic Power impact and a burning effect. Their destructive power was quite impressive, sometimes even igniting the corpse oil on the Dessicated Corpses.
As the last Undead Demon had its head blown apart by a Fireball Skill, the narrow corridor finally fell silent.
Level 21 (484/600) -> Level 21 (511/600).
His Experience Points had risen again.
"Ah..."
’If a few more waves like this come,’ Zelir thought, ’I could probably get enough experience to level up just by killing Simple-grade Demons.’
This was the eighth wave of Undead Demons they had encountered since their team had climbed the small path built along the outer wall to the top of the tower and entered the Ancient Castle.
Although none of them were strong, their sheer numbers made cleaning them up a tedious task.
"Just how many vagrants died in here?" Gray couldn’t help but frown.