147. The Scammer
There's a saying in Akan that all its wealth flows to the royal family and the magic tower.
The mages' tower was an indispensable pillar of the kingdom, one that could never be overlooked.
Power begets wealth. And for mages, that wealth was merely a tool for more experiments.
The tower earned its coin through noble donations, training aspiring mages, national subsidies, sales of magical goods, and protection fees from merchant caravans.
Most of that money then went right back into buying more magical reagents or grimoires.
Put another way, the magic tower was a treasure trove overflowing with vast stockpiles of materials.
Even merchant guilds specializing in magical reagents and components paled in comparison to the tower's reserves.
No matter how rare or precious, the tower had it all.
But the tower didn't sell—their hoards were for their own use, not profit.
"But what if we had something of equal value?"
Jetoson sipped his tea calmly across from the magic tower's sub-tower master.
Lucky break. Who'd have thought I'd run into a big fish this quick?
It was pure chance. While submitting a trade request for eye-catching items, he'd caught the sub-tower master's wandering gaze.
Intrigued by Jetoson's bold claims, the man had arranged this meeting.
"Ahem."
The sub-tower master cleared his throat.
"So, shouldn't we see this item now?"
"Of course. I guarantee you won't be disappointed. If I had to give a hint... it's a byproduct."
"A byproduct?"
"Yes. But even byproducts vary wildly in value depending on their source, don't they?"
Just as orc hide wasn't equal to ogre hide.
"True enough, but now you've got me dying to know."
The sub-tower master stroked his chin with a bony hand.
"How impressive must it be for the tower to play coy like this? I trust I won't leave disappointed?"
Jetoson nodded under the man's piercing stare.
"Absolutely."
"Golden Moon Caravan... and merchant Jetoson. I'll remember that."
The sub-tower master glanced at the ledger Jetoson had filled out for tower access.
"I hope this memory stays a good one till the end."
Jetoson swallowed dryly.
He'd bluffed his way this far, but truth be told, he had zero certainty.
The horn from headquarters looked impressive, sure. But he lacked the magical knowledge to appraise its true worth.
Spotting genuine treasures and unearthing hidden gems wasn't his trade. No, his expertise lay in packaging trash as treasure and selling it for a fortune.
All I can do is trust caravan leader Aman.
Please let it be the real deal as the letter claimed.
May this shady-looking mage recognize its value and weep with joy.
"Haha, of course. I've dragged this out too long. Let me show you right now."
Click.
The wooden box opened.
Thick demonic energy began seeping out slowly.
"This is...?"
The sub-tower master's expression twisted oddly.
"You know byproducts have grades too. Above monsters come demonic beasts, above demonic beasts demons, and above demons... Demon Kings. Of course, hierarchies exist within each, and some monsters outstrip average demonic beasts or demons, so it's not that simple."
"......"
"But no one denies the general rule: demonic beasts trump monsters, demons trump demonic beasts, and their byproducts follow suit in quality."
"So what exactly is this?"
"Demons, especially, are each mighty entities in their own right..."
"What is it?! Do you want me storming off to my lab right now?!"
The air quivered with his shout. Jetoson blinked, flustered, but smirked inwardly.
The man's trembling eyes and ragged breaths screamed authenticity.
"Among demons, the pinnacle: a high demon..."
"A high demon byproduct?"
"No."
"What?"
"It's from a demon above that high demon."
"Above a high demon...? You don't mean..."
"Yes."
Jetoson nodded.
"A Demon King's horn."
"......!"
Click.
Jetoson snapped the box shut. The thick demonic energy vanished in an instant.
"Ah...!"
The sub-tower master, who'd practically shoved his face in, let out a regretful groan.
"Just once—show me once more!"
"Ah, I can't..."
"What's there to stop you? Please."
"Very well. Just for you, sub-tower master."
The box opened again. The demonic energy vibrated intensely.
The sub-tower master drank it in greedily. As he began casting a spell for deeper analysis, the box snapped shut.
"Hey now, it's a precious item. What if it gets damaged...?"
"I'll buy it no matter what—open it!"
"You want it that badly?"
"Is that even a question?!"
"But as you know, it's awfully rare..."
"That's why I'm buying it!"
"Ah, the price tag..."
"Are you mocking the tower's wealth?! We have more gold than we know what to do with!"
Usually, the one with money held the power—but in the magic tower, the one with rarities called the shots.
In this moment, the tables had flipped completely.
"Why don't you start with your best offer?"
Jetoson crossed his legs and leaned back.
"How high did you come prepared to go?"
While Berge was extorting Vivian's horn, a grand welcoming ceremony unfolded in Hildean.
Ernan Hildean and Hillun Kargil.
The crown princess of Hildean Kingdom, kidnapped and returned—and the great hero who'd rescued her.
Every city gate in the capital stood wide open, from the outer walls to the palace. Soldiers lined both sides, forming a path for the princess and hero. Behind them, a swarm of cheering citizens followed.
Long live Crown Princess Ernan!
Long live the great hero Hillun Kargil!
We're so glad you're safe!
Long live!
Fireworks burst visibly even in broad daylight, and military bands filled the capital with music.
The whole city was one massive festival—and rightfully so.
Kidnappings of royalty were acts of fate, but most folk still saw it as an insult to the kingdom.
The kingdom's weak, so they stole our royals. Our royals seemed easy pickings, so the Demon King showed up.
Hildean had lost two princesses, and one had been re-kidnapped right after rescue.
It was a deep wound for Hildean's people. So Ernan Hildean's return was bound to be extraordinary.
"Greetings, everyone. Thanks to you, I escaped that vile Demon King's tower and made it back here. Thank you."
Ernan's voice, amplified by spirits across the sky, swelled the crowd's cheers even louder.
"You're putting on quite the show."
"I need to make my return unforgettable."
"For whom?"
"Hmm... maybe those scheming brothers eyeing my little sister's empty throne?"
"Isn't it usually the other way around?"
"Hildean runs on pure meritocracy."
"I like the sound of that."
They soon entered the palace.
The lavish ceremony continued into the palace.
In the ornate grand hall, countless nobles sat amid the splendor, with the king upon his throne.
Ernan stepped slowly down the carpet.
She felt every gaze.
Baron Ankuss, Viscount Berian, Count Corin...
She sensed nobles' stares. Those who met her eyes flinched away.
She scanned the royals next.
Olek, Polina, Titania, Olga...
And Oberst Hildean.
Her eyes met those of her blood kin seated closest to the throne.
Her lips curved up. The opposite of their rigid, frozen faces.
Passing even them, she finally stood before the kingdom's sovereign.
She bowed slowly, with perfect grace.
"Crown Princess of Hildean Kingdom, Ernan Hildean. I have returned safely, Your Majesty."
"Welcome home. Come, let me embrace you once, my daughter."
The king spread his arms. Ernan approached cautiously and hugged him.
"How was it? Quite the price for a little escapade, wasn't it?"
Ernan smiled oddly at the king's whisper.
"You knew?"
"You're my daughter. No Demon King, not even a fresh summon, could kidnap you without a trace."
Unless you let them.
"...Can't fool Father."
"So? You wanted to go, but that Demon King wasn't what you expected?"
"Yes."
Ernan nodded faintly.
He definitely wasn't the typical image she'd known—or imagined.
"The most dangerous Demon Kings are the liars. And next come the fresh summons."
"Because the ignorant don't know what they'll do?"
"Exactly. You got lucky this time, but don't count on it again. No more escapades. This was your first—and last."
"I'll remember."
"Good. I know you'll do well. You always have."
"No questions about Elena?"
"You're back. That's enough."
"I see."
She stepped away from the king.
"Today is a joyous day! We shall hold a banquet to celebrate the princess's return!"
With Ernan Hildean's homecoming, Hildean's capital erupted in a week-long festival.
"Demon King! What about that promise..."
As soon as he finished communicating with Vivian and descended, the dwarf latched on like he'd been waiting.
"The materials are just a fraction. We need huge quantities of rare stuff—I haven't gathered it all yet."
"I figured it wouldn't be easy. I'm talking about something else..."
"The craftsmen, right."
"Yes!"
Roger nodded vigorously.
Berge opened a sub-space. Inside the renovated first floor—now empty—towering piles of materials loomed.
A chill soon leaked out.
Thud, thud.
Pristine ice statues emerged one after another. Roger tilted his head, recognizing the dwarven faces.
"Demon King, don't tell me..."
"That 'don't tell me' is spot on."
"You kidnapped every single one from the royal workshop?!"
Mercy!
Roger had hoped for dwarven craftsmen, but he'd expected mere frontier city folk at best. He gaped in shock.
The royal workshop's artisans were among Berft Kingdom's elite. Invaluable, sure—but heartbreaking that they'd become Demon King's lackeys because of him.
No, it's not my fault, really.
Right—he'd been kidnapped too. Cooperating to survive—what's wrong with that? Nothing's more precious than life.
They might even like it.
Dwarven artisans were all cut from the same cloth.
They loved crafting and geeked out over novelties. New inventions? Always welcome.
Tell them they were building a colossal golem tower dozens of meters tall that could walk? They'd cheer.
Yeah, persuade 'em that way, leverage the Demon King's authority, make myself foreman...
Roger's scheming halted as he planned ahead.
His head creaked like a broken golem.
"...Um, Demon King?"
"What?"
"That one..."
No way.
It couldn't be.
He knew her reaction to him—why would the Demon King kidnap her?
Yeah, had to be. It better be.
"My eyes must be playing tricks..."
His pointing finger trembled at the ice statue.
"...Right?"
"If your eyes see Berft Kingdom's princess, then they're working perfectly."
His heart plummeted.
"...Uh."
Cognitive dissonance. Roger couldn't process Berge's words. Didn't want to. But his brain overworked itself.
His mind went white. Blinking back rising tears, he double-checked the statue.
"Wh-what the hell...! You know how Luize Berft feels about me!"
"Karma."
"Huh?"
How's this my karma?!
His last thread of sanity held back curses at the Demon King. But it couldn't stop the aggrieved tears.
"The secret passage you told me about? Its exit led straight to Luize Berft's secluded villa during her house arrest. Impressive setup. Even on purpose, it'd be hard to time it perfectly like that."
"...Ugh."
"Figure out how to handle her yourself."
"Ughh...!"
"At least, I won't let her kill you."
"Ughhhh!"
"Quiet."
"You're a liar! A Demon King who ignores the first Mahwang and the canon— a con artist!"
"Quiet."
"Mmph mmph!"
Roger's fragile grip on sanity finally snapped.
Thud.
Snap.
< 147. The Scammer > End