[The Descent: Delusions of Grandeur]
The walk down from the mountain was faster than the climb. Gravity seemed eager to pull us away from the cosmic horror at the summit.
Arthur was leading the charge. The adrenaline had completely shut down the fear center of his brain. He was swinging the shoe around as he ran.
"Did you see that?!" Arthur shouted, turning back to us. His eyes burned with the unshakable belief in his own lie. "The moment our eyes met... I raised my stick. He saw the 'Killer Intent' in my eyes. The guy literally turned into smoke and ran because he didn't want to mess with me!"
Elena, panting as she tried to keep up, rolled her eyes. "Yeah, sure..." she wheezed. "I think he just thought you were going to accidentally hit yourself with that crooked stick and didn't want to get your blood on his expensive robe."
Arthur stopped. His "tough guy" mask slipped. "What does that have to do with anything? That look... It was a 'Battle of Wills.' You wouldn't understand."
I walked at the back, silent. My hand was in my pocket, clutching that 1,000 Gold Coin button. In this village, where people counted copper coins to buy bread, I was carrying the GDP of the entire region in my pocket.
[Night: The Window Watcher]
Midnight. The village was asleep, but I couldn't sleep. I sat by my window, looking out at the yard next door—Arthur's yard. The light in his room was still on. A moment later, his back door creaked open.
Arthur slipped into the garden, wearing his pajamas and crooked slippers. He held a candle in one hand and that famous Purple Shoe in the other.
I narrowed my eyes. The System scanned the item.
[Item: Void Silk Shoe (Mythical Grade)] [Market Value Estimate: ~5,000 Gold Coins]
My jaw hit the floor. Five thousand. That was an empire.
But then... Arthur crouched down. He picked up a rusty garden trowel. He dug into the pile of wet, worm-filled, smelly manure and soil.
And he dumped that filth... Into the 5,000 Gold Coin, Dragon-Fire Proof, Divine Artifact.
"GHK!"
A strangled noise escaped my throat. I clutched my chest, feeling a physical sharp pain in my heart. Arthur packed the dirt down, distorting the elegant shape of the shoe. Then, he pulled a crushed flower from his pocket and planted it inside.
(Retard...) I groaned internally, resting my forehead against the cold glass. (Archmages would burn down kingdoms for that fabric. And you are stuffing it with shit?!)
But the torture wasn't over. Arthur stood up, wiped his dirty hands on his pajamas, and placed the "Pot" on a stump. Then, he stepped back. He cleared his throat.
He picked up the shoe again, holding it out to an invisible Elena. He deepened his voice, trying to sound cool:
"Hey. Found this. Put a flower in it. No big deal."
He paused, shook his head, and grimaced. "No, too stiff. I sound like a woodcutter."
He tried again. This time, he dropped to one knee, clutching the manure-filled shoe to his chest like a poet. "Elena... This flower pales in comparison to your beauty, but I offer it to you as a token of my—"
Arthur gagged. He literally gagged. "Ugh! What am I saying? 'Token'? She'd hit me with a rock. Too cheesy."
He stood up, scratching his head with a muddy hand. Ideally, he wanted to look cool, but he just looked like a boy holding a muddy shoe in the middle of the night. Finally, he shrugged. "Whatever. I'll just say 'Mom sent this.' That always works. She won't ask questions."
He smiled at the shoe—a pure, stupid, hopeful smile. "She's gonna love it."
I watched him from the window, my face devoid of emotion.
I took a deep breath. The oxygen hit my brain, forcing the "Greedy Merchant" lobe to reboot.
(Calm down, Dante. Don't be emotional. Analyze.)
I looked at Arthur. The System screen hovered over him. [Potential: ⚠️ ERROR ⚠️ (Immeasurable)]
I gritted my teeth. My face contorted into a mask of painful acceptance.
(That shoe is trash now. 5,000 Gold gone. But...)
My eyes narrowed.
(Arthur... This kid is a Nuclear Warhead. But he has no trigger. No motivation. His only concern is Elena. If I take that shoe away, he gets sad. But if I 'sacrifice' that shoe... Elena gets happy. If Elena is happy, Arthur gets fired up.)
A fired-up Arthur meant a loyal shield. A weapon that could cut through rocks with a wooden stick.
This wasn't a loss. This was an Insurance Premium paid for the "World's Strongest Bodyguard."
"Bury it, Arthur," I whispered into the darkness, my voice trembling (I was still grieving the money). "Bury that fortune in the dirt. But I swear, I will extract every copper of that shoe's value from your labor in the future."
As I pulled the curtains closed, I muttered: "I hope that flower survives... Or I'm going to bury Arthur in that pot myself.