Field headed to the Mages' Association to sell his Magic Scrolls. They were getting old, and he worried that leaving them any longer would turn them into a pile of wastepaper.
"Hmm... these old magic runes must be from eight years ago. Efficient and powerful, but time has worn away quite a bit of their magic." After carefully examining the scrolls, a mage dressed like Gandalf set down the crystal in his hand and said kindly, "One hundred gold coins for the lot. I'll take them all."
"Only a hundred?" With a substantial fortune on hand, Field naturally thought little of such a paltry sum. "A single Magic Scroll costs fifteen gold coins, and there are twenty-three here. Anything under two hundred is out of the question."
The mage stroked his beard. "Please don't get upset just yet. These scrolls are too old. The newer the magic, the better. Magic is a form of energy, and time only wears that energy away. Besides, these runes are outdated. Modern Magic Scrolls are more efficient."
Huh, that's pretty scientific. I thought magic would be like in fantasy novels-the older it was, the stronger it would be.
As this world's science, advances in magic only rendered older magic obsolete. It was like how, once computers existed, nobody wanted to use an abacus.
"A hundred and fifty. That's my bottom line." Field's face had turned green.
After running a hand over the scrolls, the mage said, "Deal. Consider it a gesture of friendship."
"Is this a spellbook? Isn't it a little too expensive?" Intrigued, Field took an ornate book titled "Flame Robe" off the cabinet. Its price tag read 320 gold coins.
"This is a very rare Instant Spell, and a single-use consumable, too." Tapping the book lightly with his staff, the mage explained patiently, "Drip your blood into this groove, and you'll automatically learn the new spell. The runes inside are all magical patterns. You don't need to understand them."
Field was stunned. "It's that simple?"
"What else did you expect? Spells exist to help us understand nature's mysteries and communicate with its laws. Naturally, the simpler, the better. Mages are human, too. Nobody likes reading piles of outdated old stuff."
"But knowing the spell alone is useless. You still need mana to activate it," the mage kindly reminded him.
Field had no mana whatsoever. In all of Nightfall Territory, only Ashina possessed supernatural power, and hers was divine power. Buying a spellbook seemed pointless.
"Get me this one, 'Flying Beast Vision.'" Field glanced at the figure approaching him, an almost imperceptible smile curling his lips.
"An interesting choice. You cast this spell on a bird, then gain its vision. It lets you experience the joy of soaring through the sky. Only two hundred gold coins."
"I'll take it. Flying interests me." Field promptly reached for his money.
"I bid 201 gold coins!" The obnoxious big-nosed man sidled up again.
This time, the mage ignored him. He merely glanced at the big-nosed man and said flatly, "This gentleman was here first."
Field silently gave the mage a thumbs-up. What an honest businessman.
"Another ten gold coins! I want that book!" The big-nosed man grew anxious.
The mage couldn't be bothered with this idiot, but when he turned, he saw Field frantically winking at him.
"All... all right, but you'll need to pay now." The mage was puzzled, but he was clever enough to play along immediately.
Field immediately put on an anxious expression and snapped in exasperation, "I don't believe you can afford it!"
The bearded man promptly pulled out his Merchants' Association credentials and slapped them on the table. "Baron Adrian's deposit guarantees it."
"Then get me 'Aurora Illumination,'" Field said, his face darkening.
"I'll still bid one gold coin more."
With the two playing off each other, the bearded man soon had thirteen hundred gold coins deducted from Adrian's deposit. Now it was his turn to sweat buckets.
Just then, the guard who had gone off on an errand returned.
"Fine, you win." Field chuckled, took two steps toward the exit, then looked back. "Congratulations. Enjoy yourself."
Field had barely stepped outside.
"Return them all! These spellbooks are far too expensive!" The bearded man wiped cold sweat from his forehead. His two-thousand-gold-coin allowance had nearly failed to cover it. He didn't dare imagine what would happen if the Baron found out.
The mage's expression darkened. "Are you making a fool of me? I am Mapleleaf City's Chief Mage! You snatched a sale away from a noble customer, and now you want a refund? It seems someone wants to be turned into a sow and served on a commoner's dinner table."
"Then could you just refund the original prices? Master Mage, you can keep the extra." The big-nosed man instantly backed down. Mages were not people to trifle with.
The mage snorted. "Since you purchased them in Baron Adrian's name, he'll have to come in person for the refund."
"All right." The big-nosed man shrank back. He and his guards staggered outside carrying a thick stack of Instant Spell books. As soon as he was out the door, he cursed under his breath, "Damn old fossil. If Adrian finds out, he'll skin me alive. I'd better talk to Lance."
"You bastard! How dare you screw my wife!"
"Boys, cut him down!"
Hysterical roars erupted from the crowd, setting off a wave of screams.
The big-nosed man was loading the spellbooks onto the carriage. Those shouts immediately piqued his interest. How wonderful it was to know someone had it worse than him.
Then he saw several faces twisted with rage charging toward him.
Lance emerged from a nearby bakery carrying an exquisite cream cake. "Field should have been tormented into a nervous breakdown by now, right? How could a stupid coward like him possibly compete with me, the son of Fulan City's economic adviser?"
But he soon witnessed a horrifying scene.
"Hack this bastard to death!"
Twelve or thirteen vagrants in ragged hemp clothes, armed with rusty knives, violently tackled the bearded man to the ground. One man with a pockmarked face and a mouthful of missing teeth stabbed him in the neck over and over. Amid savage cries, blood gushed like a fountain, spattering everything around them.
The bearded man tried to scream, but his windpipe had been brutally severed. All he could produce was a breathy, leaking rasp.
Regret. Nothing remained in the bearded man's mind but endless regret. By now, he understood: after he had bought the Church's supplies, Field had immediately sent his guard to hire these crazed killers!
A vicious noble through and through! I had a happy family, but that son of a bitch Lance talked me into provoking a noble for a thrill.
I'm really done for this time.
Sure enough, it's far too easy for nobles to kill commoners.
Even those thugs might not receive much punishment. A few gold coins to grease the right palms, and they would be out of prison before long. After all, dead men couldn't provide gold coins, but living men could.
Lance, fuck your mother!
"Urgh..." The bearded man twitched twice and died with his eyes still open.
The coachman, guards, and two helpers suffered as well. The blood-crazed thugs surrounded them and stabbed wildly with their tetanus blades. Soon, they too lay in pools of blood.
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