A High-Stakes Gamble

A partner?

Interesting!

After hearing the young merchant's proposal, Raymond immediately realized that this was what it felt like to be tempted.

If he established a partnership with a merchant guild that wielded enormous influence in Athkatla, he would not only gain a stable source of wealth.

He would also gain tremendous conveniences on a social level.

For example, he could quickly integrate into the local ruling class and become part of the privileged, vested-interest group known as the nobility.

Of course, the price was becoming involved in a conspiracy with many potentially unknown risks.

This was a gamble!

A high-stakes gamble!

If he won, the generous returns would let him establish a foothold in Faerûn.

If he lost, he would merely lose everything he had gained since arriving in this world.

Why not take a gamble?

Raymond could hardly find any reason to refuse.

It couldn't be helped!

The other side was offering far too much...

But accustomed as he was to hiding his thoughts and emotions, he revealed nothing. He merely smiled and said, "I need some time to consider it. But rest assured, I will give you an answer within a week at most."

"Then I shall await your good news. Also, regarding the ransom for this ship and its cargo, after I sell the goods, I will pay you one-third of the proceeds."

After saying that, Bernard placed one hand over his chest and bowed before reluctantly turning to leave.

He had already made the fullest possible use of every resource at his disposal. Whether he succeeded or not would now be up to Tymora, the goddess of luck.

Only after the merchant had walked away did the soldier standing nearby finally ask, "Master, do you truly intend to involve yourself in this sort of matter?"

"Why not?"

Raymond shrugged and replied.

"As long as the benefits are sufficient, I do not mind taking a little risk.

After all, there is no such thing as a free lunch in this world. If you want something, you must pay a price.

Don't worry. If we encounter an enemy we cannot defeat, I will immediately abandon everything and flee.

For a Planeswalker, failure is not frightening. What is truly frightening is losing the courage to face danger and explore the unknown."

The soldier nodded thoughtfully. "I see. I think I understand now. But why didn't you agree immediately just now?"

"Because things obtained too easily often seem cheap in many people's eyes, and therefore not worth cherishing.

But if something is acquired only after tremendous hardship, people tend to treasure it like a priceless jewel, even if it is merely a pebble with no practical value.

I want Bernard to wait in suspense so that I can establish that, in this partnership, I am the one in the dominant position."

Raymond patiently explained, resting his chin on his hand.

At that moment, the wisdom and maturity in his eyes, so mismatched with his apparent age, filled old Captain Bass, who was directing the sailors' work nearby, with inexplicable unease.

The sailors aboard the ship had even begun privately speculating that Raymond might not be human at all, but some monster capable of using magic to transform itself.

He had absolutely no intention of paying attention to such rumors born from ignorance, stupidity, and fear.

After all, there were no fewer than eight thousand such rumors across Faerûn.

Anyone with even a little sense would not believe them.

However, Raymond was not lacking in caution.

For instance, whenever he ate, he would always have the soldier beside him taste the food first, then wait for a while to make sure it was not poisoned before eating it himself.

All of these "good" habits had been developed in the Floating City Tower.

Since the Necromancer Archmage—Astar—liked to keep his apprentices in an intensely competitive relationship.

It was therefore quite common for apprentices to poison one another, slip love potions into someone else's drink, or deliberately cause a little accident while an enemy was conducting a dangerous experiment.

Ever since Raymond had personally watched a young and beautiful "senior apprentice" die on the spot after drinking a cup of tea, her corpse turning black all over within less than an hour and sprouting countless dense, writhing fleshy buds, he had begun letting laboratory rats sample everything before he ate or drank it, just to observe their reaction.

After all, apprentices who were not careful enough usually did not live very long.

Time flew by, and three days passed in the blink of an eye.

Though sailing at sea was dull and monotonous, it was truly an excellent time for Raymond to study.

He used those days to sort through the books and notes the Necromancer Archmage had not taken away, thoroughly mastering the sections on creating large undead creatures and various Golems.

Although he was now in a different world, most magical knowledge could still be applied to some extent.

By studying several magical items obtained from Harlett, Raymond was surprised to discover that the two magical systems shared many astonishing similarities.

Perhaps the planet inhabited by the Aelir was another Material Plane within the multiverse.

Of course, that was merely speculation.

Raymond planned to head north to Candlekeep, the largest library on the western coast, and see whether he could find any relevant evidence there.

"Look! A lighthouse! We've finally arrived at Calimport!" a sailor shouted, pointing at a stone spire slowly rising over the distant horizon.

Though it was daytime, the blazing magical flame at the top of the tower could still be seen clearly.

Before long, a huge and immensely prosperous port city came into view.

Countless merchant ships were docked in the harbor. Laborers on the piers swarmed like ants as they continuously loaded and unloaded heavy cargo. Large numbers of merchants gathered around the markets to haggle, and among the wide array of goods were slaves.

If Calimport had to be described with a single word, it would be noisy.

Local men generally wore robes and tall cylindrical hats, or white headwraps wound around their heads.

Most women wore conservative outer robes and colorful veils.

Overall, the city felt full of mystery and exotic charm.

Of course, aside from those dressed normally, there were also young women wearing so little cloth it was practically negligible, twisting their bodies like snakes by the roadside as they danced to music.

Like magnets, they firmly drew in the sailors who had just stepped off their ships.

Although the city appeared fairly orderly on the surface, a closer look revealed that some of its streets and slums had long been controlled by gangs of all kinds.

Whenever those tattooed or badge-wearing figures appeared, merchants and passersby alike immediately stepped aside.

"How many Thieves' Guilds are there in Calimport?" Raymond asked uncertainly.

"There are six large ones and more than thirty smaller ones. A small portion of them are controlled by Amn's Shadow Thieves."

Bernard promptly gave an exact figure and added, "That number is not fixed. It changes almost constantly. Some guilds are absorbed, while others split apart due to internal rebellions."

Raymond narrowed his eyes. "Sounds exciting?"

Bernard nodded with a wry smile. "It certainly is.

Some Thieves' Guilds even cooperate with Skaven among the Lycanthropes in order to better control the smuggling and fencing networks in the sewers.

I once knew several unlucky people who were bitten by them. Almost without exception, they were infected with Lycanthropy and became worse off than dead.

One more warning: be wary of Halflings and children.

In Calimport's alleyways, they are often more threatening than muscular warriors."

While the two were speaking, the sailors had already begun lowering the sails and slowing the ship. Under the guidance of the dock officials, it slowly sailed toward a berth near the far right.

Before the two ships had even come to a stop, a bald, fat man who looked to weigh more than two hundred pounds appeared on the wooden walkway beside them.

Behind him stood four bodyguards in leather armor and masks, with shortswords and daggers hanging from their waists.