"Floating City? Count, are you insane? Due to the lack of necessary materials, we no longer have the capability to build something like that! Strictly speaking, perhaps only back in the Merlin Era did the Wizarding World ever experience such a level of grandeur!"
Count Dantes shook his head calmly.
"Lack of raw materials… Mr. Hammer, are you referring to the Gerebato Magic Crystal?"
He paused for effect, then continued.
"If that's the case, I must tell you I've already found a seller. Forgive me, but I must keep their identity confidential. The fact remains—I've found someone with a source. Yes, you heard me right. The original Gerebato Magic Crystal raw stone—once thought lost to time—still exists, and more importantly, it retains its plasticity."
The room fell into stunned silence.
In an age where even Gerebato Silver Marrow caused fierce bidding wars, the meaning of acquiring a Gerebato Magic Crystal was clear to everyone present.
The Count continued confidently:
"I will request an additional 10 billion Galleons from the Royal Family because the Gerebato Magic Crystal is worth that much. And now, I've gathered you all here to discuss how we might collectively purchase it. How much are you willing to invest? And in return, how much will each of you receive in dividends?"
Someone finally asked, "What's the seller's asking price?"
"8.3 billion Galleons. That's the final amount after half a year of negotiations by my team. It can't go any lower."
Immediately, a voice raised an objection.
"Count, this all sounds too fantastical. You're the only one saying anything. We haven't even seen the Gerebato Crystal for ourselves. For all we know, the Royal Family's involvement is just hearsay… I don't think anyone here is willing to invest blindly, are they?"
"That's right, Count," another person agreed. "Merlin City is certainly profitable, but your Phase Two plan… it seems a bit speculative."
Count Dantes chuckled lightly after everyone had voiced their concerns.
"Of course, I understand. That's why I've invited the seller here today. As for the Royal Family, they'll arrive in Britain in half a month. Those interested may attend the welcome banquet I'm hosting for them then."
As he finished speaking, a servant opened the adjacent door. A mysterious Wizard entered, shrouded in a black robe and wearing a silver mask. Flanking him were two magical constructs—one golden, one silver. From their helmets leaked eerie green flames, which made the onlookers visibly uneasy.
"Due to security concerns," the Count explained, "I cannot disclose this gentleman's identity. Not that he needs me to hide it—anyone plotting against him would suffer dearly at the hands of his constructs."
He turned to the masked Wizard.
"Please, show the Gerebato Magic Crystal to everyone."
The Wizard snorted, unmoving.
The Count softened his tone.
"For the sake of our transaction, please cooperate. Since you're here, there's no need to be difficult."
With clear reluctance, the mysterious Wizard reached into his robes and pulled out a crystal the size of a basketball. He had drawn it from a portable storage space.
With constructs standing guard and the crystal's presence radiating raw power, everyone in the room grew visibly serious. Even those skeptical a moment ago now showed deep respect for the masked figure.
What commanded their attention, however, wasn't the Wizard or his defenses—it was the crystal, which pulsed with strong magical energy.
"Merlin's beard!" someone gasped. "These magic fluctuations… this vibrant purple glow! It's exactly how Gerebato Crystals are described in ancient records!"
"I've traded in Gerebato Silver Marrow before," another said. "That magical resonance… this is the real thing!"
Only a handful of nouveau riche and families in decline lacked the insight to judge. For most attendees, the authenticity of the crystal was unquestionable.
The masked Wizard promptly stored the crystal again and spoke in a hoarse, commanding tone.
"Count, I expect this transaction to conclude swiftly. This noisy city annoys me."
"Of course, my friend," the Count replied smoothly. "I apologize for the inconvenience. My servant will see to your safety."
The mysterious Wizard patted one of his constructs and then pulled his hand back almost reverently.
"No need. With my constructs here, even if every Dark Wizard in Britain came after me, they couldn't touch me."
He swept a cold gaze over the room, then clapped his hands.
Twin beams of green light burst from the eyes of the golden and silver constructs, crisscrossing ominously.
With a scoff, the Wizard turned and walked toward the exit.
But as he did, one of the constructs smashed through an entire wall—completely destroying it to the point where repair spells were useless. The adjacent room, including a large bathtub, was left fully exposed.
"Hey! That's my property!" the Count yelled, half in frustration.
The Wizard didn't even glance back. He raised a hand and said curtly, "Deduct it from the transaction."
Immediately, the Count's annoyance turned into a smile.
"Excellent! Eight billion two hundred ninety-nine million nine hundred ninety-six thousand!"
The Wizard offered no further words and vanished through the broken wall, constructs in tow.
With a clap, the Count redirected the room's attention.
"Alright, everyone. With the Gerebato Magic Crystal, the Floating City district can now be realized. With my level of expertise in magical arrays, this isn't difficult."
This wasn't empty boasting. The Count's accomplishments—particularly the defensive array surrounding Merlin City—were proof enough. The only remaining barrier had been a suitable power source, which had now been secured.
Many of those present began to connect the dots.
Merlin City's extensive defensive perimeter, its impenetrable array—what was its magical power source? Could it have been the Gerebato Crystal all along?
Seeing how familiar the Count seemed with the mysterious Wizard, a realization dawned on everyone present.
No wonder land prices in Merlin City were so high! They'd thought it was all speculative—based on future potential and elite consolidation. But clearly, an enormous investment had already been made, and the magic involved was far more real and tangible than they'd imagined.
The Count went on.
"Now, those willing to join the Floating City project may sign up. The minimum investment is 200 million Galleons, and the maximum is 500 million."
A short silence followed.
Then a voice rang out, "Our family will invest 200 million!"
"350 million!" another quickly followed.
"We'll also invest 200 million!"
The Count smiled in satisfaction as more and more nobles and magnates joined in. When it appeared no one else was going to speak, he concluded:
"As of now, nine families have joined, totaling 2.6 billion. I will cover the remaining 5.7 billion myself."
"Wait, Count!" a voice called out.
"We'd also like to participate, but we need to consult internally and do some calculations. Could you give us two days to decide?"
The Count nodded graciously.
"Of course. But please, do not delay. I will wait no more than three days. After that, I'll finalize contracts with those already committed. No latecomers will be accepted."
Among the crowd, the local British representatives looked uncomfortable.
Though their families had long histories, few had the kind of liquidity required to invest 200 million Galleons.
Even those with reputations for wealth—particularly combat-focused families—barely had eighty or ninety million Galleons if they counted their estates.
Ollivander Avery exhaled deeply. He quietly resolved to speak with the Count after the meeting. Perhaps, given their friendship, the Count would offer him a way in—some kind of backdoor route.
This was more than a magical project.
This was an opportunity to double one's fortune—and no one wanted to be left behind.
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