The VIP waiting room was a sanctuary of velvet couches and crystal chandeliers, a stark contrast to the blood and sand of the arena floor.
Seraphina sat by the window, meticulously cleaning a speck of soot from her staff. She looked bored, radiating the calm confidence of someone who had just one-shot a team of seniors.
Toby, on the other hand, was hyperventilating into a paper bag.
"I can't do this," Toby wheezed, his C-Rank robes trembling. "Did you see the next bracket? We're fighting Team Beast! They summon Dire Wolves! Wolves eat people, Lord Vayne!"
I ignored him, scrolling through my obsidian phone.
I wasn't looking at combat stats. I was looking at the real battlefield.
[App: NobleBet (Encrypted)]
It was an underground betting ring run by the bored aristocracy of the capital. Millions of credits flowed through this server every minute.
I checked the odds for the Quarter-Finals.
[Match: Team Vayne vs. Team Beast]
[Odds: Team Vayne to Win (1.1x)]
"Boring," I muttered. The nobles weren't stupid; they knew I was a powerhouse after the Qualifier. There was no money to be made on a straight win.
I scrolled down to the "Prop Bets"—the high-risk, high-reward wagers for degenerates.
My eyes landed on one specific line.
[Prop Bet: Team Vayne wins in under 60 seconds WITHOUT Lucas Vayne casting a single spell.] [Odds: 100x Payout]
I grinned. "Found it."
Just then, the door to the VIP room swung open.
Three men walked in. The two in the back were bodyguards—Level 35 Warriors with scars that suggested they had killed people for a living.
The man in the front was different. He wore the crimson and gold military uniform of the Iron Empire, the neighboring superpower known for its warmongering. He had slicked-back blonde hair, a cruel smile, and eyes that looked like cold steel.
Prince Draven. The Foreign Exchange Student. And judging by the mana-tablet in his hand, the owner of the betting ring.
"So," Draven drawled, his accent thick and arrogant. "This is the 'Baron' everyone is whispering about? You look more like a merchant than a mage."
He walked up to me, looking down his nose.
"I hear you bought your title, Vayne. Just like you bought that village. Tell me, how much did you pay your little girlfriend here to carry you through the qualifiers?"
Seraphina stood up instantly, frost forming on her fingertips. I raised a hand to stop her.
"Prince Draven," I said, leaning back in my chair. "I didn't know the Iron Empire sent their royalty to run illegal gambling rings. Is the war going that poorly?"
Draven's eye twitched. "Watch your tongue, merchant. In my country, we execute people for disrespect."
He glanced at the screen on my phone.
"Checking the odds? Don't bother. I set them. And I bet 10 million credits that you lose the next round. Team Beast has a Level 25 Chimera. Your little 'money magic' won't save you."
I stood up, facing him.
"Is that a challenge?" I asked.
"It's a fact."
"Then let's make it interesting," I said, tapping the "Prop Bet" on my screen. "I'll take your bet. And I'll raise you. I bet 50 million credits that I win the next match without lifting a finger. No spells. No summons. Just me sitting in a chair."
The room went silent. Even Draven's bodyguards looked shocked. 50 million was enough to fund a small war.
Draven stared at me, then burst out laughing.
"You arrogant fool! You think you can beat a Chimera without magic? Done! I'll take that money and buy your family's estate as a summer home!"
He tapped his tablet, locking the bet.
"Prepare to be bankrupt, Vayne."
Draven turned and marched out, laughing all the way.
I sat back down and looked at Toby.
"Toby, stop hyperventilating."
"I can't!" Toby squeaked. "He said Chimera! That's a lion with a snake for a tail!"
"You're up, kid," I said.
"Me?!" Toby shrieked. "But I'm a support mage! My only spell is [Gentle Breeze]! What am I supposed to do against a Chimera? Fan it?"
"No," I said, reaching into my inventory.
I pulled out a small, spherical metal object engraved with the Vayne Corp logo and a skull warning label.
[Item: Prototype Mana-Grenade (Sleep Gas Variant)]
[Description: Concentrated Alchemical Sedative. Can knock out a dragon for 3 hours.]
I placed the grenade in Toby's trembling hands.
"Throw this," I ordered. "Do not drop it. Pull the pin, throw it at the big scary monster, and cover your nose."
"That's it?"
"That's it. Mess it up, and I deduct the 50 million from your future salary."
Ten minutes later, the crowd in the arena was roaring.
Team Beast stood on the sands. Their leader, a wild-looking summoner, had just called forth a Chimera—a massive beast with three heads that roared, hissed, and bleated simultaneously.
"Tear them apart!" the Summoner screamed.
I sat in my velvet armchair, which I had conjured again in the center of the arena. I crossed my legs and opened a magazine.
"Lucas?" Seraphina whispered, eyeing the charging Chimera. "Are you sure about this?"
"Trust the process," I said. "Toby. Now."
Toby squeezed his eyes shut. "I don't want to die in debt!"
He pulled the pin and hurled the grenade with a desperate, flailing overhand throw.
It wasn't a good throw. It wobbled through the air, barely clearing the halfway mark. But it landed right in front of the charging Chimera.
PSSSHHHHHH!
The grenade detonated, but instead of fire, a massive cloud of heavy, purple gas erupted outwards.
The Chimera ran straight into it.
One second later, the lion head yawned. Two seconds later, the goat head's eyes rolled back. Three seconds later, the massive beast collapsed mid-stride, skidding across the sand like a giant, furry curling stone. It crashed into the wall, snoring loudly enough to shake the stands.
The Summoner blinked, inhaling a whiff of the gas. "What the—"
Thud.
He fell face-first into the dirt, fast asleep.
The entire enemy team was unconscious.
I checked my watch. 45 seconds.
"Match over!" the referee shouted, covering his mouth with a cloth. "Team Vayne Wins!"
The crowd was confused. They expected a battle; they got a nap.
I stood up, recalled my chair, and walked toward the exit. Seraphina glanced at the snoring Chimera, then at Lucas. A flicker of genuine admiration softened her icy gaze. He wins without even trying, she thought. He really is on a different level.
"Not bad for a coat holder," she noted, offering Toby a rare, faint smile.
"I... I did it?" Toby stammered, looking at his hands. "I did it!"
"Don't get cocky," I said. "We have a payout to collect."
Up in the VIP box, Prince Draven wasn't confused. He was furious.
I pulled out my phone. The notification came through instantly.
[Bet Won: Prop Bet (100x)]
[Payout: 5 Billion Credits]
[Source: Iron Empire Shell Account (Liquidated)]
I had just drained Draven's entire personal war chest.
As we walked back into the tunnel, we passed a seething Prince Draven. His face was red, his fists clenched so hard his knuckles were white.
"You cheated!" Draven hissed. "That wasn't magic!"
"Correct," I said, pausing to pat him on the shoulder. "It was chemistry. Money solves problems, Prince. Magic is just for show."
I leaned in close.
"Thanks for the donation. My butler needed a raise."
I walked away, leaving the Prince of the Iron Empire shaking with rage, plotting a revenge he couldn't afford.
[ System Notification: Financial Domination (High-Stakes Bet). ]
[ Rival Humiliated: Prince Draven. ]
[ Draven's Plot Armor: -20%. ]
[ Tournament Record Set: Fastest Quarter-Final Clear. ]
[ Reward: +2,000 Destiny Points. ]
The Tournament was just getting started. And I had just made more money in a minute than most kingdoms made in a year.