Agent

Although Borne was something of a homebody, Ioulaum House was still one of the foremost noble families. With the Count serving as vice dean, finding someone in the academy was easy enough.

Central Avenue, Shop No. 137.

As Seventon's most prosperous district, Ioulaum House naturally owned several shops there.

As for why they had chosen to meet outside the academy, Borne had been too "popular" lately. Quite a few people were watching him, and for now, he did not want too many people to know what he was doing.

Disguised, Borne blended into the crowd before slipping into his family's shop. The manager had made preparations long ago and respectfully led Borne to the reception room.

Someone had already been waiting inside. The moment the door opened, he quickly rose and performed a mage's salute. It was Lehman Yiwantoff, Borne's "guide" when he had first enrolled!

Lehman wore gray robes and had clearly disguised himself as well. Borne smiled faintly, deeply satisfied.

"Just as I thought. You're a smart man!"

Lehman had clearly noticed Borne's attire as well, and his expression grew more solemn.

After bringing in tea and pastries, the manager hurried out and personally stood guard outside the door.

Borne first poured Lehman a cup of tea, then filled his own.

Lehman was somewhat flattered. Borne was taken aback for a moment before smiling.

Borne was a noble. Lehman was a student of Giles Academy and a spellcaster, entitled to the privileges of nobility, but he was not a noble in the end.

After exchanging a few pleasantries, Borne went straight to the point.

"What do you think of this shop? How much profit can it make in a month?"

It's here! Is this a test?

Lehman had already sensed something. After pondering for a moment, he said, "Hmm... Though this shop is located on Central Avenue, it mostly sells medicinal herbs for stopping bleeding and treating injuries. It should make nearly a thousand profit points each month... The location is good, but if it were near the end of the street, closer to West Gate, the profits would be even higher..."

"Mm."

Borne nodded, signaling Lehman to continue.

"The west side of the city is close to the buffer zone between the Upper District and the Lower District. There are relatively more adventurers there, so demand for healing herbs is higher..."

Borne considered this inwardly. Lehman was fairly low-key and spoke rather tactfully. Since the academy was practically half his territory, Borne had long since used his family's power to investigate Lehman thoroughly.

Unexpectedly, this guy was quite talented. He had taken on many side "businesses" at the academy, but extraordinary resources were too expensive to support his daily experiments. If he had sufficient resources, he might have already advanced to become a professional.

But what Borne valued even more was his "business talent." Someone who could profit without attaching himself to nobles, while operating in the academy's gray areas, clearly possessed exceptional talent for business.

"Not a bad suggestion. But I still need a shop manager over there, as well as someone to manage the trading company."

"Shop manager? Manager? Huh?!"

Lehman stared at Borne in surprise.

"Me?"

"Mm."

Borne nodded.

"Y-you... Are you looking for an agent?"

Lehman instantly understood something. As a commoner who moved around the fringes of noble society, he naturally understood the weight of the word "agent."

"You're still under consideration. What happens next will depend on your performance."

"But aren't you part of Ioulaum House..."

Borne waved a hand. "The House is the House. I am me."

Lehman's eyes widened at once, and his breathing grew heavy.

Agents were not rare among the upper class, but they were generally selected from household retainers or servants. It was rare to choose an outsider. Loyalty and trust alone were major problems.

Nobles prided themselves on their status. Why would they personally stoop to arguing over a few copper coins? Yet those one or two copper coins in profit often added up to a substantial sum of gold.

Of course, the most important thing was that through the status of an agent, one could enter noble circles and perhaps even become a noble!

"What? You don't want to?"

Borne raised an eyebrow.

"No, no, I'm willing to give it a try. Thank you for your trust!"

Lehman hurriedly saluted.

Though he did not know why Borne was seeking an "agent" outside the family, one thing was certain: this was the most important opportunity of his life.

As for deceiving him—

He was already willing to sell himself to Borne. The youngest Arcanist in Nether, the heir of Ioulaum House—he would even be willing to serve as Borne's coachman.

The rest of their discussion went much more smoothly. Even after Borne left, Lehman was still in a daze.

It felt as though he had suddenly won a jackpot worth ten million.

"Medicinal herbs..."

Lehman looked at the parchment on the table, carefully tucked it into his robes, and took a deep breath.

"Time to get to work!"

After leaving the shop, Borne did not immediately return to the academy. Instead, he detoured to the manor.

It seemed he had still underestimated how much Nether's commoners craved status. He had not expected even a "top student" from Giles Academy to flock to it.

As for taking on a "little brother," Borne knew his own limits. What "kingly aura" could he possibly have?

All under heaven bustle for profit; all under heaven scurry for gain.

The ancients had not deceived him.

The process was not important, so long as it did not affect the result.

He soon returned to the manor. Although Borne was disguised, the servants still recognized him and saluted one after another.

Following his memory, Borne headed to the basement storage room.

The laboratory still needed one core component.

An Alchemy Table!

He could not make one himself for the time being, but fortunately, the family warehouse still had an old spare one that had been retired from use.

The earliest alchemical apparatus had been—the cauldron.

Like the huge pots witches used to brew magic potions in fairy tales.

Cauldrons had long since been phased out by the Elves. Nether had kept up with the times as well, using Alchemy Tables for both magical experiments and alchemical experiments.

They were safer and more efficient to operate.

The difference was somewhat like upgrading from an abacus to a computer.

As an upgraded version of the cauldron, the manufacturing process for an Alchemy Table was also extremely complicated. It was one of the magical achievements the Elves were most proud of.

In all of Nether, only the Dean and the Count could make one.

It was not that Borne had never considered making one himself, but not now. He knew his own limits well enough.

Anyone capable of producing an Alchemy Table was both a master of formations and a master alchemist. Borne was still just the tiniest bit away from that level.

"Good thing it's still here!"

Borne lifted the gray cloth, revealing a rectangular metal table.

Whether in its overall shape or its patterns, it was clear that it had been crafted by the Elves.

Time had left many marks upon it, but they still could not conceal the creator's exquisite skill.

According to the Count, Ioulaum House had paid a considerable price to obtain this Alchemy Table. And there was no telling how many hands this "secondhand" item had passed through.

Even then, it had only been secretly sold to them because their ancestors were "brothers" as Druids.

Though the deal had been rather exploitative, Elven products were still remarkably reliable in both quality and craftsmanship.

Even something the Elves had been ready to discard could still be used to this day.

Borne infused it with mana, and the patterns on the Alchemy Table lit up. The table started successfully.

The quality was simply beyond reproach. Who knew how many masters it had outlasted, yet it still worked. Borne could not help sighing. If this had been on Blue Star in his previous life, the manufacturer would have gone bankrupt for sure.

OK!

Borne smiled faintly.

Then he began dismantling the table and packing it into his magic pouch. While he was at it, he slipped into his grandfather's laboratory and took whatever materials and alchemy notes he could carry.

Could taking things from his own home even be called "stealing"? They would all be his sooner or later anyway.

Ever since the Wizard Tower had been built, how long had it been since Seventon had suffered an attack? The wild beasts within dozens of miles had long since been hunted clean. Even the beasts that followed the scent of people into the city during winter only served as extra meals for the City Guard.

This year was somewhat unusual. The rapid expansion of the border had caused a measure of unrest...

Overnight, heavy snow blanketed the entirety of Seventon.

The snow atop the city walls had already been shoveled away, yet a faint smell of blood still lingered in the air. Fresh red stains remained in a few inconspicuous corners...

Crunch, crunch.

The snow rose above the soldiers' ankles. To move more easily, they could only lift their knees as high as possible to pick up their pace.

"Kid, hurry up! Get those arrows up there, now!"

The squad leader shouted, "Those in front, keep moving! Don't block the way!"

"Move, move, keep up! The ones in back, hurry and catch up!"

A squad of City Guard soldiers ran to the city gate. "Open up! We're the Third Garrison Squadron! Open the gate, now!"

The soldiers guarding the gate gave them an expressionless glance. Only after leisurely checking their passes did they open the gate.

Before long, the City Guard returned, dragging the corpses of beasts and aberrations along with bundles of arrows. Before leaving, they did not forget to provoke the gate guards. The gate guards were so furious that they nearly started fighting on the spot, and only the captain's quick intervention stopped the farce.

Watching the City Guard swagger away with their spoils, the soldiers all looked displeased.

"Heh, ptui!"

"What the hell..."

"A bunch of dogs throwing their weight around..."

Only after the City Guard had left did several gate soldiers begin cursing.

"Enough. They're gone, so save your strength. There might be more action tonight!" the captain said. Then he summoned a nimble soldier and whispered a few words into his ear. "Go find..."

Seeing what the captain was doing, several older veteran soldiers wore amused expressions.

A closer look would reveal that, compared to the City Guard's uniforms from earlier, their sleeves bore a red insignia.

A burning crimson flame!

The Shamsuddin Legion!