Chapter 192. Fruition
Bartol's real job was loan sharking.
Unlike banks, which required strict procedures, he demanded high interest rates, and if debts weren't repaid within the term, he would do whatever it took to collect.
Because of that, his notoriety was considerable, yet customers kept coming. There were always plenty of people desperate for quick cash.
Still, the nature of the work meant that income was unstable, and there was no denying that.
No matter how many warnings were given in advance, debtors often disappeared without a trace, and not a few ended their own lives.
Of course, for such desperate customers, he only lent small amounts, but even that piled up bit by bit and couldn't be ignored.
Above all, the fact that he might not recover the principal itself was a burden to Bartol.
So, what else could he do?
He had to prepare a stable source of income.
And that was how his new business was born — managing people.
He sought out artisans and merchants who needed seed money, supported them, and then took a percentage of their total sales.
"Like that, both sides pursue profit together."
"A fifteen-year contract, plus percentages out of sales including material costs, and you call that mutual profit? That sounds rather shameless."
"It's because it's me that they're even able to make a living. If it were anyone else, they wouldn't even be able to put food in their mouths. They shouldn't have signed the contract if they didn't like it in the first place."
Bartol was a loan shark.
He had seen countless damned customers who thought favors were rights, and conveniences were entitlements.
Contracts, especially promises related to money, had to be kept to the letter. That was Bartol's motto.
Tak.
Perne finished a fruit cocktail and set it down in front of Bartol.
It was a kind of drink he had never seen before. With interest, Bartol took a sip, and his eyes widened.
"What is this? A new recipe?"
"It's from Roafra. These days, it's our tavern's best-selling item."
"The underworld Roafra? Well… it is definitely different."
Bartol had never been to Roafra.
The reason was simple. He believed he couldn't establish himself in a place teeming with criminals worse than himself.
Knowing one's place — that was the secret to survival.
Gulp, gulp.
Bartol kept drinking the fruit cocktail.
It seemed he liked it, for in no time he had emptied nearly half the glass.
Verden, who had been listening with folded arms, finally spoke.
"So, the magic stone craftsman you selected is under contract with Bartol?"
"That's right. Since the craftsman's labor cost is high, negotiations have to go through Bartol first. It takes time, but Bartol offered to mediate the order, so I called him."
Suddenly?
"Does he take a fee?"
"No, not for something like this…"
Bartol wiped the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand, muttering.
Ordinarily, he would never have extended such a courtesy, but this time was an exception.
'I have to keep things as pleasant as possible.'
Bartol had to recover over two hundred million Elk from the mage beside him.
If repayment was delayed, he would normally wring it out by any means. But this time, there was no choice. Threats would never work, and if he acted rashly, it would only end with his entire crew being slaughtered.
What's more, the man had the backing of the Marquisate of Esperanza.
The balance of power was on an entirely different scale.
'Damn it, I'm the one who lent the money, yet I'm the one watching my step…'
If, by any chance, the mage said something like, "Money? Why should I repay it?" then two hundred million Elk would vanish into thin air. So Bartol had no choice but to appease, show favor, and bend.
He sighed deeply to himself.
"The craftsman's profit is also my profit… sigh, let's just call this a complimentary service, since we're not strangers."
"Not strangers, but isn't it really because of my debt?"
Verden pierced straight through Bartol's thoughts.
Bartol flinched, coughed awkwardly, and Perne chuckled at the sight.
"Are you wary of Sir Asher right now? Afraid he might not pay you back?"
"Ahem, I don't know what you're talking about. I'm just being a good neighbor───"
At that moment, Verden pulled a banknote from his coat.
A check from Dyna Bank. Bartol's eyes fixed on the numbers printed on it.
"Right here, I'll repay one hundred million Elk. Then what remains?"
"T-there's never been overdue interest, so… one hundred and twenty million Elk…"
"If I wish, I can pay the remainder in one lump sum as well. Of course, that's if the crafted magic stones satisfy me."
The money Verden held in hand, even after deducting the wages of the relic expedition, exceeded one billion Elk. Repaying Bartol was something he could do at any time.
He had even planned to settle the entire debt soon through Perne.
'But if he's watching his step like this, I might as well use it.'
By contract, Bartol was the superior party, and the craftsman the inferior.
When pressured by the superior, the craftsman would naturally pour more care into the work. Costs would decrease accordingly.
As a result, Verden would receive better goods and even save money.
Meanwhile, Bartol would recover a massive sum of two hundred and twenty million Elk, eliminating the anxiety of potentially losing it.
A trade of material and psychology.
Bartol did not hesitate for even a moment.
He immediately took the check and tucked it securely inside his coat.
"I'll handle everything myself. So don't you go saying otherwise later."
"I won't."
"The design?"
Verden opened his spatial bag.
A rolled-up blueprint tied with string. Bartol accepted it, drained the rest of his cocktail in a single gulp, and rose to his feet.
"No need for upfront material costs?"
"I'll send you the statement once it's complete. You can receive the material cost and crafting fee then."
Bartol shot Verden a glance, then stepped out into the street.
Perne, fascinated by the unusual sight of the loan shark, couldn't take her eyes off.
"Wow, Sir Asher must have been really frightening. Who would've thought he'd be so happy just because someone offered to repay the principal… I never imagined I'd see something like this."
"I never once threatened him."
"I know you'd never default, Sir Asher, but Bartol doesn't. He'd be stuck wondering when you'd pay, or if he threatened you and you wiped him out instead… To Bartol, you're probably the worst customer he's ever had."
The worst customer, despite having always paid the interest.
'That might be true.'
Verden chuckled quietly to himself, then turned his head.
"Ah, could I have a fruit cocktail as well?"
"Of course."
***
Geltone quietly opened his eyes.
Even at the break of dawn, his eyes opened on their own. After washing himself with lukewarm water, he equipped his gear and stepped outside.
The morning air was refreshing.
There were few people on the streets. In the alleys of Asern, where public order was poor, he felt grim gazes directed his way, only for them to vanish soon after.
They had recognized, from his attire, that Geltone was a mage. Wherever one went, it was common sense that provoking a mage could cost you your life.
Step, step.
Geltone walked straight through Asern.
It was a morning exercise, but also mental preparation.
Because today was the day he would finally see the fruition of his efforts.
"Hoo…"
His breathing grew rough with tension.
But he told himself not to feel anxious. The result would not be decided by luck, but by the fruit of his effort.
He had done his utmost.
Geltone steadied himself with that thought.
He turned and headed toward the city gate.
At the exact time the gate opened, he left Asern. After distancing himself from the city, he cast
He waited.
Then a sound came from the sky.
A speed on an entirely different level compared to his flight.
He didn't even need to ask. It was clearly
'At the age when I only reached 2nd-tier middle level, he's already at the 5th tier.'
Impressive.
That must be what it meant to be a Genius mage. A level of talent on an entirely different plane, far beyond someone like Geltone, who was merely a gifted student.
Yet, he felt no jealousy.
Because it wasn't only innate talent that had brought this about. Though the time of instruction had not been long, he could tell.
That the effort the man had put in was also on the level of a Genius.
'That is why I feel joy.'
The fact that he could meet, and receive guidance from, such a mage.
Verden landed on the ground.
Meeting those blue eyes, Geltone swallowed hard.
"Please, follow me."
Without hesitation, Verden stepped into the forest.
Silently, Geltone followed after him.
***
In a clearing of Sloan Forest, a concealment magic circle was laid down.
With just a few waves of his fingers infused with magic power, the circle was completed. Though Geltone had already seen it many times, he still couldn't suppress his amazement.
Very few mages actually used magic circles in live practice.
"With this, there won't be any interruptions."
"Yes, thank you."
Nodding, Geltone stepped into the center of the circle.
He kept calming himself, telling himself it would be fine, but at the decisive moment, his body began trembling.
What if I fail?
What if all my effort was meaningless?
Fear crept in, crawling out from deep within.
He tried to close his eyes and move his magic power, but he hesitated. Stammering, with a stiff voice, Geltone asked.
"C-can I… really succeed? It hasn't even been two weeks since I properly received your instruction, maybe I should prepare more…"
He rambled incoherently.
Frightened out of his wits, he didn't even know what he was saying. Words poured out, different from his thoughts, different from his heart.
At that moment, Verden spoke.
"Geltone Rodni."
Just that one call made him stop.
"What you've learned from me amounts to only a few weeks, but what you've learned throughout your life amounts to decades."
"…!"
The tower he had built until now had crumbled.
But it hadn't all vanished without a trace.
He still had the experience of stacking that tower, and the experience of having it collapse. The foundation remained firm, and upon it, a new tower was being built.
Faster, and stronger.
His life as a mage had not been in vain.
'…'
Geltone took a deep breath.
The turmoil in his heart quickly calmed. He activated his mana circuits, filling his entire body with magic power, letting it flow outward.
He maintained the state for a brief moment.
His magic power was being consumed rapidly. Sweat poured down his face, but he soon focused his power into his hand.
And he calculated a spell.
───Fwoosh.
A small flame bloomed at his fingertips.
It was a phenomenon not born of nature, but of magic power. The process was rough, and considering the amount of magic he possessed, the spell was absurdly weak.
Geltone observed within himself.
His mana circuits throbbed, but they did not overload. Of course, he had not become crippled.
He was intact.
It was only a 1st-tier spell, and its power was abnormally low, but one thing was clear. He had not been born with it, but through effort, he had gained the fire attribute, the counter to water and ice.
Success.
"Ah…"
It was an emotion far beyond accomplishment or joy.
His heart pounded with a feeling beyond description.
How long had it been since he had last felt this way?
Geltone realized.
There was no denying it.
Yes, he loved magic.
"How do you feel?"
Verden asked.
And Geltone smiled.
"…Warm."
Was it because of the flame at his fingertip that his eyes grew moist?
There was no need for words. It was plain to see.