Ashen fell silent for a moment.
Not the silence of thinking, but the silence of weighing.
Then he raised his crimson eyes toward Korval and asked in a voice without any fluctuation:
Ashen:
"Is your kingdom the only one that produces these stones?"
Korval did not answer immediately.
He smiled first.
The smile of a man who knows that the question itself reveals ignorance…
or hides a trap.
He took a deep breath, as if rearranging an old drawer in his mind, then said:
Korval:
"I truly do not know how someone of your strength
can be unaware of something so obvious."
There was no mockery in his tone.
Only cautious surprise.
He tilted his head slightly and continued:
Korval:
"Very well… let me put things into perspective."
His voice moved through the hall like a slow scalpel over exposed flesh.
Korval:
"What you call red emerald stones is merely a local name.
The general name is: spirit stones."
He paused briefly, then went on:
Korval:
"They differ in traits, in color, in nature.
We have red emeralds.
The Crystal Kingdom possesses crystalline ice stones.
The Tasso Kingdom monopolizes black jade."
"But in the end, they all fall under a single category.
They all serve the same purpose…
The differences between them are not fundamental."
He then interlaced his fingers and spoke in a deeper tone:
Korval:
"More than that…
Relying on only one type of spirit stone is not ideal."
He lifted his gaze slightly toward Ashen.
Korval:
"Absorbing different kinds of spirit stones
is more effective than absorbing the same type repeatedly.
It is similar to a body developing resistance to a medicine that is overused."
Ashen did not react.
He was only listening.
Korval:
"But—"
He stressed the word.
"—all of this remains within the scope of surface differences."
His voice lowered, as if approaching a forbidden core:
Korval:
"The true difference
begins at the rank of the spirit stone."
Ashen raised one eyebrow.
Ashen:
"Explain."
Korval nodded slowly.
Korval:
"As far as I know… there are four ranks."
He raised one finger:
Korval:
"Lower spirit stones.
They are the most common…
Red emeralds belong to this rank."
A second finger:
Korval:
"Primary spirit stones."
A third finger:
Korval:
"Intermediate spirit stones."
A fourth finger:
Korval:
"And then… high spirit stones."
Silence followed.
Ashen:
"And the difference?"
Korval let out a short laugh, closer to a confession.
Korval:
"Honestly?
I do not know."
All eyes turned toward him.
Korval:
"I have only ever seen lower spirit stones in my life.
But it is obvious that the difference in energy
is not merely a matter of quantity."
He tilted his head and said:
Korval:
"Perhaps a qualitative difference.
Perhaps special properties.
Perhaps… things we do not even have names for."
Then he spoke decisively:
Korval:
"What I know for certain
is that the upper sects, the great kingdoms,
and the imperial family—"
He stopped.
"—are the ones who monopolize these stones."
Ashen's expression did not change.
Ashen:
"Fine."
He took half a step forward.
Ashen:
"You said your kingdom trades these stones."
He looked directly at Korval.
"Then… trade with me."
For a moment—
Korval did not speak.
Then he smiled.
The smile of a merchant who saw an opportunity,
a king who sensed danger,
and a man who realized he was facing something he could not fully control.
Korval:
"As long as you possess something
of equal value to spirit stones—"
He opened his arms slightly.
"—I will trade with you… gladly."
At that moment—
The air moved.
On Ashen's hand, a red ring formed.
It was not forged from any known metal.
It looked like condensed blood, frozen into the shape of a ring.
A crimson glow burst forth from it—
Then exploded.
The hall was filled.
Not with sound…
But with presence.
Psychic goods.
Metals some of those present had only seen in legends.
Black gems radiating terror.
Spiritual powders preserved in bone vials.
Ancient relic fragments that pulsed like living hearts.
Even the giant abomination stopped moving.
Its vertical eye slowly widened.
Korval—
Stiffened.
He did not show blatant shock.
But he felt—
For the first time in a long while—
That the balance of the deal was no longer in his favor.
Inside himself, he whispered words no one else heard:
This boy… is not a treasure.
He is an entire market.