Chapter 328
Chapter 328
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 328
Chapter Title: Carrot and Stick #2
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Jangle, jangle-.
The coins clinked noisily in Luna's palm. I'd been listening intently to the sound for a while, and without thinking, I spoke up.
"Five coppers. Two silvers. Two coppers. And one gold."
Luna's hand opened like a clamshell, revealing the coins inside.
"Wow! You got it exactly! I just grabbed them randomly! It's really 1 gold, 2 silvers, 2 coppers!"
Luna seemed utterly shocked that I'd nailed the count of coins in her hand.
We'd done this dozens of times already, but she still couldn't get used to how I counted them without looking.
"How the hell do you do it?"
Truth be told, I couldn't explain it all that well myself. Maybe I could say I felt the presence of the clinking coins, that distinctive sound they made.
Just like how a 10-won coin feels different from a 500-won one, the coins in this kingdom had their own vibes too—and I just sensed them more intensely and sharply.
"It's just a knack."
That was all I could say vaguely in response. Off to the side, Paranoia, who was lining up five hundred gold coins in a neat row, chimed in.
"As the son of Lord Pluto himself, Master Hassan naturally possesses a sensitive intuition for gold and treasures...!! Now all that's left is for you to sniff out the scent of money and become rich...!!"
The scent of money?
I could distinguish the sounds of coins, sure, but sniffing out money? Not so much.
Either way, it was a damn useful ability.
If I'd awakened this power back in my high school days, I could've been the undisputed king of pocket change in class.
I'd have bought way more snacks and drinks from the vending machine, and with all those extra nutrients, my 179cm height might've finally broken past that cursed 180cm mark.
Thinking about it now just pissed me off.
Why hadn't I realized my gift back then?
Why had my father kept all this from me?
The questions kept piling up, so I shook them off and snapped back to the present. Someday, if we met, I'd ask him why.
Why my father, of all people, had left this world to run some health spa or whatever.
"Wow, I've never seen this many gold coins before! We'll have a thousand gold in no time! And we got two more noble consents too. Now we can build the temple!"
"In this city too, the tallest, grandest, most magnificent one...! When they see its splendor, people will flock to it and offer even more gold...!"
Amid Luna and Paranoia's excitement, I pictured myself as the owner of a massive, imposing building. It felt pretty damn good.
"Ahh! The Ditch Water Nymph sisters hid one gold coin in their mouths-!"
"I-I didn't steal it...! That's nymph discrimination...!"
"Spit it out, you bitch."
*
*
*
The next day.
The place I headed to was a noble's villa near the south gate. The guy had built a sprawling mansion in the pricey south gate district, so his finances had to be solid.
Baron Fleur.
I figured he might sponsor me big-time and help with the consent forms.
As I approached the entrance, I spotted a woman sweeping fallen leaves with a broom beyond the iron gate.
"Autumn's here, autumn-."
She wore lively leather adventurer's gear, her blue hair tied in a ponytail, humming a tune as she swept the crimson leaves across the vast garden.
For a split second, I thought she was a servant working the estate—until her sparkling blue eyes blinked, and I remembered: this was Baron Fleur's daughter, Brigitte.
"Miss Brigitte, long time no see. Looks like you can roam from the attic room down to the garden now, huh?"
I called out to her over the fence. She paused her sweeping and turned to look at me.
"Uh, um?"
Her eyes went wide as saucers, her mouth hanging open.
"Wh-who are you? Why are you acting like you know me!?"
"Oh-."
That's when it hit me: I'd never shown her my real face. I'd worn a mask back then, worried my shady massage business might put me in danger.
"If you don't leave right now, I'll-I'll call my father! Or Sydney sis!"
Sydney sis—the special forces maid Baron Fleur employed. The kind who could smash doors barehanded.
If she showed up to chase me off, things could escalate fast.
So I had no choice but to hurriedly explain to this girl Brigitte who I was and why I was here.
"See, I'm the guy who groped your chest. I was wearing this weird mask, up on the tower, and you told me you wanted to be an adventurer."
It was the most concise rundown I could manage with all the details. But looking back now, it sounded like the drunken ramblings of a lunatic. Cringe.
"My ch-chest?"
Brigitte furrowed her brow like something clicked, then let out a short "Ah-." of realization.
Whoosh-.
A fierce blush exploded across the young noble lady's face. She was a noble's daughter like Enya, but damn, they were night and day.
"C-come in. So that's what you look like without the mask."
That's what you look like? Was that a compliment or an insult?
Feeling the scales tip evenly between the two, I stepped into the dark, dimly lit villa.
"Shall I fetch Father?"
"That'd be great."
I sat in the drawing room. But the flustered girl, Brigitte, kept stealing glances at me, making it hard to focus.
"You have business here?"
"I-I know you. Hassan of Samaria, right? The adventurer from Mars Guild. The one who took down the lion and the hydra."
"You know me?"
"I know all the famous adventurers active in Sodomora! I subscribe to Monthly Adventurer magazine!"
Monthly Adventurer? What the hell?
That's when I recalled hearing about some list that detailed adventurers' feats, ranks, and all that.
Like how sports papers cover athletes—apparently, there was a paper just for adventurers, full of news and quest reports.
"Monthly Adventurer is amazing! It's packed with stories about rookie Iron Tiers all the way up to rising Veteran Silver Ranks!"
"Is that so?"
Memories surfaced: this Brigitte girl was an adventure-obsessed teen, cooped up under her overprotective dad's watch, naturally idolizing wandering adventurers.
She was out in the garden now, so maybe not as confined as before, but her dreams of adventuring hadn't faded.
"Hassan, your entry says you beat a lion barehanded. Is that true?"
"Well-."
Did the magazine really say that?
If they printed rumors spread by Malko as fact, that rag probably wasn't all that reliable.
But right now, it wasn't brag or bullshit—it was real. I'd subdued Regulus in Delphi, hadn't I?
"Here, this pelt is proof."
"Wow-, incredible. A real lion, barehanded...."
"More importantly, didn't you say you'd get your father?"
"Oh, right, sorry. It's my first time meeting a famous adventurer up close like this-."
Blushing and covering her mouth with a giggle, Brigitte turned and hurried off to fetch her father, Baron Fleur.
If I hadn't nudged her, we'd probably have chatted for minutes—or tens of minutes—longer.
Left alone in the empty drawing room, I took a moment to gather my thoughts and catch my breath.
Baron Fleur was a devout Venus follower, from what I knew. Would he sponsor me and sign a consent? I was a bit tense about persuading him.
Still, I'd cured his daughter once. If I played up that connection right, maybe it'd work?
As I mulled it over—
Ding-. Ding-.
A bell tinkled from the dark hallway far off.
Whoosh-.
An eerie chill swept in, dropping the temperature in an instant.
It hit me so viscerally—like my body rejecting it outright—that goosebumps prickled my back and arms, tensing me up.
Clack, clack-.
Finally, a man shrouded head to toe in black cloth and a hood appeared before me.
"Long time no see. You look quite different now-."
He sat across from me and opened the conversation.
"I knew you'd come eventually. Pluto's son, Zigres."
Blue light gleamed from under his bowler hat. In that moment, I sensed a potent surge of power.
Back when I was barely a scrub, I hadn't noticed—but this Fleur guy was undoubtedly a formidable mage.
Come to think of it, he'd been a professor at the Ivory Tower, the great mage university.
Now I finally pieced together who—what—he was.
A lich.
Not some lucky fluke like Skargard, fumbling into immortality. This was a mage who'd reached the pinnacle of magic, or perhaps a Pluto priest transcending death.
A living, breathing lich.
Facing one alone for a chat? Terrifying.
"Heard you went to Delphi. Didn't know you'd returned."
"Just got back the day before yesterday."
"Decided to reveal your true self now, eh? I could never figure out why you kept up that clumsy charade."
"You knew who I was?"
"With all that hell mana oozing out? Impossible not to. I thought Pluto himself had descended. But he's bound by pact, unable to leave the underworld. So, inevitably—his son."
I see.
It hit hard that he'd known my identity all along and played along anyway. So mature, so nobly aristocratic.
He continued.
"But that wild hell mana raging like a beast? It's vanished clean, sealed tight as a drum. Quite the exquisite sealing ritual."
He'd apparently noticed my Necromancy was sealed.
"No wonder. Left unchecked, your body would've burst like a frog bloated with air from the ass."
"Seriously?"
"Indeed. Whoever did it poured real work into that seal on you. Masterful mana work. Makes me want to dissect your gut and see it firsthand."
Slide-.
His blue gaze flared hotter, sending chills down my spine.
Immortal liches terrified folks because they shed mortal life—and often morals and humanity too.
A mad skeleton mage unbound by ethics. He looked like he might actually carve me up, so I desperately wanted out.
"From the look of it, the seal blocks your Necromancy. Right?"
"Yes. Do you know a way to break it?"
"The only way to undo your seal is to start from scratch. Hone it circle by circle, from the first."
"From the beginning?"
"Yes, Zigres. Learn to sense mana, step by step, and you'll master the full spectrum of hell magic—even beyond the 7th circle, into mythic realms."
The full hell magic spectrum?
Did that mean I could become a sorcerer?
"Zigres, you came for my letter of recommendation, yes? Then let's make a deal."
Swoosh.
Skeleton Baron Fleur spread his palm slightly. A small, orb-like light source appeared over his black leather glove.
"Know what this is?"
"A light spell?"
I was a total novice at magic, but even I knew the basics—like conjuring a tiny light in your palm.
Elfriede and such used it to light fires. Fleur elaborated.
"This is the 1st-circle spell, Light Vessel. Anyone with mana affinity and basic knowledge can produce this glow."
Whoosh-.
The orb in the baron's hand grew brighter and brighter.
It dazzled so much I squinted—then pop-, it burst like a firefly, leaving afterimages that lit up the dim drawing room.
"Master this Light Vessel. Then I'll write your temple recommendation. And pass on all I know of hell magic besides."
"For real?"
"Indeed. I, Fleur, once led a school at the Ivory Tower. 5th-circle in life, 7th now in this form. Such a teacher doesn't come often."
He swore on the River Styx. No doubt about it.
Mages fought tooth and nail to enter the Ivory Tower or Karinthos University—their so-called schools.
Without noble blood or equivalent wealth and pull, even the doorstep was off-limits.
A former professor there offering to teach me magic—hell magic, no less? Rare as hell.
But the condition? Brutal. Master a basic light spell? Like an entrance exam for Fleur's tutoring, or a placement test.
How the hell was I supposed to do that?
Magic lessons cost a fortune. Finding a teacher was tough too.
That's why commoners couldn't learn, and mages got the red-carpet treatment.
I racked my brain for someone among my contacts who could teach me. Hippolyte would've been ideal, but Mars's daughters couldn't handle mana innately.
Narrowed it down to mana-users I knew.
Witch Nemea's face popped up, but she creeped me out too much, so I had no choice but the last option.
"Huh? You want me to teach you magic?"
Elfriede's brows shot up like an eight(八), like she'd heard the most absurd thing. I could tell things were going south fast.
Had I come in vain? I only knew a couple mages, fingers on one hand.
Nemea or Elfriede. Why were all the mages around me such hotheads? Then again, mages and witches were like that—handling mana twisted their tempers, or so I'd heard.
"You're thinking something super shitty again, aren't you?"
"Nah, just need to handle a 1st-circle Light Vessel or whatever. No attack spells...."
"So what's in it for me teaching you mana?"
"...In it for you?"
"You handle your body fine lately, but mana? Clueless. I'd have to teach you breathing, meditation—the works. Mages guard that stuff like trade secrets, you know?"
No clue. I figured you'd just feel it out or something.
"Need money...?"
I glanced around the tavern where Elfriede had set up shop.
Even in Sodomora's cheap west gate slums, this was bargain-basement lodging—full of riffraff yapping so loud my ears rang.
Elfriede, who hated noise, hunkered here? Obvious: broke as hell. But she shook her head.
"If money solved it, all rich folks would be mages?"
Her red eyes narrowed to slits, and my vision swam dizzily.