The Viscountess's Value

The Viscountess's Value

"I—I..."

The Viscountess's teeth chattered slightly.

Ryan had guessed correctly. She was indeed a few months pregnant.

"He won't find out."

The Viscountess pleaded through tears.

Sigh, I'm still too softhearted.

Ryan pinched the woman's fair, tender skin and looked at Viscount Whitman's corpse beside them.

"Let's hope he never finds out."

"Definitely, definitely."

Ryan had already turned away to look at the surrounding slaves.

"By the rules between nobles, you are now my slaves."

Rows of people dropped to their knees. They had changed masters, and that included the soldiers.

But the next moment, Ryan looked at Brandt and the others. After giving them a glance, Brandt carried his longsword toward the soldiers.

Ryan did not want to leave hidden dangers behind. These soldiers had been loyal to Whitman and abused their power. Besides, if he did not kill them, what if they someday thought of using Viscount Whitman's descendants to take revenge on him?

Slaves, on the other hand, were safe.

Because slaves were not even qualified to pledge loyalty. They were merely property, objects. They only had masters; there was no question of whom they were loyal to.

Some soldiers tried to resist, but in the end, they still died. Another twenty or thirty corpses lay on the ground.

Fortunately, the spirituality they brought Ryan had not vanished.

After that, Ryan could finally inspect his property.

Five cows, thirty-two mules, ten Great Horned Deer, and two thousand five hundred glittering Gold Coins.

Although they differed somewhat from Imperial Gold Coins, bearing the image of a stag's head, that did not matter.

The key to Gold Coins was their weight. As long as the weight was the same, their value was the same. Gold also served as a magical medium, making it naturally a precious metal.

If he was worried, he could simply remint them after returning to his territory. Their purchasing power would not be an issue anyway.

Silver coins were much the same. Viscount Whitman's property actually contained nearly fifty thousand silver coins.

The ratio of gold, silver, and copper was one to twenty to one hundred. Twenty silver coins equaled one Gold Coin, while one silver coin was worth a hundred copper coins.

The reason for such a vast difference was their extraordinary properties. Both silver and gold could serve as magical media, but copper could not.

In short, their value was nearly equal to the two thousand five hundred Gold Coins.

As for copper coins, there were only a little over a hundred thousand.

After thinking it over, Ryan roughly understood why.

On this plane, Fierce Winter's frost and snow had covered everything, wiping out countless people. The distances between nobles in particular were immense, while Gold Coins and silver coins were currency circulated among the upper class.

Transactions between commoners and slaves with a little money were almost entirely conducted in copper coins. Especially for slaves—if a silver coin or even a Gold Coin appeared in their hands, they would undoubtedly die without a burial.

No one would believe that a slave should possess such things.

Gold and silver coins were difficult to circulate, so they naturally accumulated. Copper coins, meanwhile, were still being used. The Viscount would not have many of them, nor would he care about such things.

A single Gold Coin could fit in a pocket, but copper coins worth one Gold Coin had to be carried on one's back.

The choice was obvious.

In any case, it all benefited Ryan.

"These Great Horned Deer were controlled by the Viscount through magical means?"

After ordering people to bury the corpses, Ryan came to the ten quiet Great Horned Deer.

"He studied the branch of magical control. During his time as a Mage Apprentice, he spent six thousand Gold Coins to purchase the Beast-Taming Mark, the most expensive among Mage Apprentice spells."

"Branding the magical mark onto a Great Horned Deer's head allows it to roughly understand human commands and grow close to humans. After long-term training, it can reach this level."

"So I lost six thousand Gold Coins?"

Ryan looked at the Viscountess. The more he looked at her, the younger she seemed. Perhaps because he had just asked, he knew she was only five or six years older than him, around nineteen or twenty.

"How much is that Magic Weaving you learned worth?"

The Viscountess lowered her head. "Magic Weaving is only an ordinary magical path. My talent isn't very good."

Perhaps feeling that she ought to demonstrate some value, the Viscountess changed her words.

"But it can weave clothing. As long as there are enough materials, the clothes can also function like magical items with spells fixed into them."

"Sounds average."

"Later, give me the Meditation Technique you learned. I'll practice it."

After Ryan spoke, he failed to notice the deep flush on the Viscountess's face. Instead, he saw a soldier running toward him from afar.

"My lord, we found the Iron Ore the Goblins hid away."

"Oh?" Ryan's eyes widened.

Soon, he saw basket after basket of Refined Iron. Ryan immediately grinned from ear to ear.

Seven or eight thousand jin of Refined Iron—so long as he had blacksmiths, it could be forged into armor or Knight's Greatswords. This trip to the Other Plane had been outrageously profitable!!!

"Move it! Everyone carries some! Empty the place completely—don't leave behind a single piece!"

With one command, Ryan led a large group of slaves onto the road home.

After returning to Frozen Earth Territory, amid cries of amazement, Ryan took the Viscountess back to the Baron's Castle on Rhino Horn Mountain.

With a widow and child, Ryan did not know where he could send them so that they would survive. He might as well let them stay in Frozen Earth Territory. Mages were not knights, after all; they could not eat much in a day.

Late at night.

"Do I really have no talent for meditation?"

"Hiss—what kind of posture is this? Why does it hurt so much? I'm a knight!"

Ryan looked at the Viscountess in a completely form-fitting bodysuit and admitted that his youthful blood had gotten the better of him.

But the pain between his bones soon made him unable to care about the fragrance lingering around his nose, and he kept sucking in cold breaths.

"What Magic Weaving requires is displaying your body in its most perfect state, so that you can weave the most comfortable, well-fitting clothes."

"The first thing Mage Apprentices learn is awareness of their own bodies. Knowledge is power."

"Back then, it took me three days to completely enter the Meditation Technique."

"Three days?!"

Ryan cried out. Even when he had learned the Blaze Dragon Knight Breathing Technique in the Clayton Family, he had never experienced pain from the depths of his marrow like this during training.

"Is that difficult?" The Viscountess was somewhat puzzled, but in order to show her value, she taught him as diligently as she could.

She even used herself as an example, but the suddenly more prominent peaks in that instant only made Ryan suffer more.

Why am I only fourteen?

Inside the Baron's Castle, the old man Beard, who had hurried back after hearing the news, quietly withdrew on tiptoe. He was somewhat uneasy, yet also somewhat gratified.

One thing the Clayton Family was envied for by the entire circle of Imperial Nobles was their flourishing bloodline.

"Young Master Ryan is only fourteen. He should still exercise restraint."

Half a month later.

Ryan completely gave up practicing the Meditation Technique.

At his pace, who knew when he would break through and become a Junior Mage.

He looked at his Spirituality Panel.

"I believe that someday, there will be divine blessings specifically gifted for talent in magic."