Fair Price

At the mention of a friendly match, Conner nearly ground his teeth to pieces.

Although Du Pont had indeed not gone for the kill and had stopped attacking before Pete lost consciousness, and although he had already used two first-circle spell slots, would Conner stand any chance if he went up there himself?

Even though Conner was quite arrogant, his confidence definitely did not extend to combat class.

Pete might not have been particularly intelligent, nor was he much of a sorcerer, but those with dragon bloodlines lived far longer than ordinary humans. He had plenty of time to advance patiently, and his physique was exceptionally gifted. Give him a weapon, and even a black bear might not have beaten him. Yet he had been defeated in hand-to-hand combat without even managing to strike back.

And now Du Pont was inviting him onto the stage?

Did he take me for an idiot?

Having figured out the crux of it, Conner put on an easy, disdainful smile. "Heh, I'm not some uncivilized barbarian who challenges people to duels over trivial matters. I merely had some doubts that I needed to voice. I hope Instructor won't blame me."

But the instructor shook his head. "I can overlook other matters, but revealing a classmate's attribute values is not something that can be lightly forgiven. Go back and report to your mentor. Whether you receive a week or half a month of confinement will depend on your mentor's arrangements."

Conner's face immediately went pale. He looked at Bran, only to see his own mentor shake his head. Bran then shot Du Pont a resentful glare before lowering his voice to the instructor. "The mentor's reprimand is justified. I'll return and accept my punishment now."

Conner left the crowd and headed back to the academy. Du Pont was now the only one left in the temporary dueling ground. Looking at the disbelief in everyone's eyes and hearing their whispers, he felt an inexplicable thrill.

So this was what it felt like to be the center of attention?

It was indeed rather nice. No wonder that brat Conner had become addicted to it.

"Make way, please." Bran arrived in the center with several others. He hoisted up Pete, who had been treated by a cleric and had regained consciousness but still looked dazed, then gave the instructor an apologetic smile. Afterward, he said quietly to Du Pont, "My name is Bran. It seems we'll have plenty to deal with each other over in the future."

"You should already know my name." Du Pont tapped his badge. "If there's anything, I'm always game."

"Perhaps." Bran shrugged and left with the others, carrying away the round-bodied Dragon Bloodline Sorcerer.

"I have to say, today's combat class was quite interesting. Student Du Pont demonstrated how to prevail even while unarmed and facing an opponent far larger than himself under such unfavorable conditions. The answer is sufficient calmness and courage." The instructor glanced at Du Pont. "However, I do not recommend that everyone imitate this method. It requires considerable confidence and the ability to precisely identify an enemy's weakness. Without enough real combat experience and explosive power, it is impossible to achieve this. Everyone, practice on your own."

After returning to the crowd, Du Pont cheerfully handed Charles his principal and winnings, then announced that he would treat everyone to dinner in the cafeteria that evening and they could order whatever they wanted. The group laughed and jeered excitedly, while Annie had already quietly disappeared.

"That bitch colluded with someone from another department to scheme against us," Charles cursed. The other students wore similarly contemptuous expressions, but Du Pont merely shook his head and said nothing.

Pity for the defeated was a victor's virtue, but had she truly lost?

Not necessarily.

There was still quite some time left in their apprenticeship, but a person's life only truly began after leaving campus.

For an apprentice from the Department of Civil Engineering, no matter how hard one worked to improve, without opportunities, the best outcome would be joining some organization's engineering department as management. Their future life would be secure, but there would be little room for greater ambition, spending their days dealing with ordinary people and the undead.

When a profession's upper limit was so clear, seeking the protection of a wealthy and powerful young master was obviously not the wrong choice.

It was simply that the person she had chosen to rely on was rather immature, still stuck in the lowly stage of being obsessed with throwing his weight around on campus.

As someone who had been through it himself, Du Pont understood the young class monitor's choice. He was not as indignant as Charles.

He had seen far dirtier things than this. Back in elementary school, he had seen students report their classmates to teachers just to earn credit for a little red flower.

Understanding was one thing, but the reckoning that needed to be done still had to be done.

Since she had chosen to take a shortcut like an adult, letting her see the cruelty of the adult world a little earlier was not necessarily a bad thing.

The defeated had to pay a price.

But before that, Du Pont walked over to Angie and greeted her quietly. "May The Lady protect you, Cleric Angie."

"May The Lady protect you. Just call me a cleric." Angie looked slightly surprised to see Du Pont approach. "Is something wrong? Are you injured somewhere?"

"No, I'm in pretty good condition." Du Pont rubbed his hands together. "It's like this: last week, I learned something about Barley Village. There's a cemetery there that isn't very peaceful—some haunting activity. I had planned to go there this Saturday to eliminate the danger, but I'm worried my strength might not be enough. Do you have any holy water, holy oil, or other sacred items on you? That way, I'll have some ability to fight back when facing ghosts."

"Mm, I have some holy water, but I rarely carry holy oil on me." Looking into his eyes, Angie felt sincerity in his heart for the first time. After thinking for a moment, she took out three bottles of holy water. "Will this be enough? If you need more, I can go back and get some."

The church was not far from here. It was merely separated by the front and back courtyards.

"This should probably be enough. I haven't been there yet, so if it isn't, I'll come trouble you again." Then he seemed to remember something. "If nearby villages encounter similar incidents, would they come to the church for help?"

"If a nearby village encounters trouble that even passing adventurers cannot resolve, they usually first report it to the town they belong to. Our primary responsibility is the academy's safety." Angie spoke softly, her pale red eyes always fixed on his. "Only if even the nearby towns cannot resolve it might they contact us. But they may also seek aid from the city. Once we receive word, we will mobilize."

Du Pont was a little surprised. "It's that strict? But I remember that many adventuring parties travel with priests, don't they?"

"Every church has its own assigned area. The Lady's enemies are especially cunning and vicious. Acting without authorization could cause greater disaster or lead us into an enemy trap. Most priests who travel abroad also have their own missions. Training is one of them—to bring The Lady's glory to those who have never received her blessings."

As she spoke, Angie took out a bottle of deep crimson liquid. "If you are worried about lacking a timely means of recovery after being injured, this bottle of intermediate healing potion may be what you urgently need. Some bandages for stopping bleeding and anti-inflammatory ointment are also essential supplies."

"You're too kind. You've really helped me out tremendously." Du Pont's heart leaped with joy at the sight of it. The delight of getting something for free made him feel wonderful all over, but the young cleric's next words immediately cut that joy short.

"That'll be ten gold coins per bottle." Angie smiled knowingly, her small, sharp canine teeth glittering in the afternoon sunlight.