How Much Will Rezina's Lord Shell Out?

Minimum 1,000 gold, right? Even if he auctioned these off, he could probably get at least 100 gold per Rare-grade sword.

Vulcan waited with swelling anticipation for the lord's response—until the lord finally spoke again.

"Putting a price on such masterpieces feels almost ridiculous."

"……?"

Hey, wait, no need to think that way at all.

But Vulcan could only wear a baffled expression at the lord's praise. Wasn't this just like the lines those quest NPCs spouted when they tried to brush you off with passion pay? All that flowery praise to flatter players, only to fill the air with words or hand out ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠garbage rewards—it sent a chill down Vulcan's spine.

"On top of that, you've driven out the giant bats that ruled the Cave of Screams and made a huge contribution to developing a new mine. How could a few coins possibly repay your efforts?"

"Well, I'm fine with—"

"No, I wouldn't feel right about it. Here, how about this?"

Vulcan tried to gauge the mood and snag his share quick, but the lord's mind was set, his eyes firm as he made his proposal.

"I'll give you a stake in the mine's operations. For the next year, 3% of the revenue from the new mine goes to you."

"3%?"

Vulcan's eyes spun like mad. What ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠would 3% of a year's mine revenue amount to? Tough math. Player-owned mines let you profit from ore buyback, sales, and more, but NPC-run ones just charged entry fees.

"You won't need to do anything extra. We'll handle operations ourselves. If you prefer, we can pay in blue iron ore, other ores, or gems instead of gold."

That meant factoring in entry fees and visitor numbers. Pure speculation, but as a veteran miner, Vulcan could ballpark it.

"Sounds good."

It was like installments, but the total made it solid compensation—especially factoring in his mine development contributions. Not a lump sum, but the gear's value covered it. He'd need cash for growth soon, and restocking after new gear would take time, but this was a long game. Guaranteed profit, recoupable in a year. Vulcan accepted.

"Your talent as a craftsman seems exceptional, so I'd like to make one more proposal."

"Go ahead."

"I'd like to erect a statue in the village center. Can you do it? We'll have the Roona Temple bless it to keep out those tainted by evil."

"A statue?"

The lord's request was simple: Build one in the central square. No need for his likeness—just something fitting, to spread holy power via Roona blessings. The incident had shocked him; some of his own, including family, had been mind-controlled by Pain Eaters.

Can I pull it off?

Sounded easy, but ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠it wasn't. He'd asked because Vulcan had the architecture skill, but Vulcan had never used it. Foundation work counted, but that was just groundwork—not full builds. Dragon Eye would help, but F-rank with zero experience? He hesitated, then glanced at Tud.

"Sure. I'll give it a shot."

Trusting Tud, Dragon Eye, and his Legendary class, he accepted.

"Any deadline?"

"No rush, but sooner the better. You'll need to meet Hainel anyway, so finish before you leave."

Hmm.

Vulcan's face twisted oddly. A time limit meant something, but the lord said just before leaving. Did the ?? mean his departure? Something's up. Limits usually specified exactly. Some event trigger, probably.

"Got it. I'll do my best."

No way to know now. He bowed and left the audience chamber.

Interrogation not done yet?

Next: Hainel in the Night Forest. But first, Roona Temple for the main scenario quest, heretic interrogation. Nothing to do, but check progress—and Tiran said to collect rewards.

"Sorry, you can't see Tiran right now."

"Can you at least send word? Or anyone else? I just need the reward..."

"Sorry, no one's allowed in."

Tsk. Temples were always so rigid. No meeting her, and even regular NPCs were barred. Big deal with the heresy trial—maybe guarding against disguised enemies.

They wouldn't stiff me, right?

Nah, they're stuffy but keep promises.

Overkill or not, he wasn't leaving yet. Gold was nice but not urgent; after the statue, the lord would summon temple folk anyway. Vulcan headed to Hainel.

The Night Forest cabin was a 30-minute walk, but risky enough to eat 72 hours of limits—he prepped consumables, blue iron ore, crafting stuff. Might need skills like the treasure key.

Geared up, Vulcan plunged into the Night Forest.

"Better to meet him first, then plan?"

Not scared. Monsters topped Rezina levels at 60-70. Vulcan was 63 with godlike gear—hordes welcome. Pre-Cave of Screams, he'd farm XP here. Now leveled, he used Dragon Eye to skirt mobs and find the cabin.

"Hainel?"

Knock knock. Inside, a white-haired elder eyed him—village chief looks, but a sage.

"Who are you?"

"Vulcan. Lord said you wanted to meet."

"Oh? You decoded goblin? Sit!"

Warm welcome despite his title. Not his usual demeanor—Vulcan's perfect goblin translation won him over.

"You wanted to see me."

"Impatient one. Immortals are all like that. Yes. Your learning stands out. Straight to it: Can you read this?"

A short sentence, inhuman script—goblin-like but off.

Ancient goblin tongue. Long extinct, yet someone uses it?

Ancient goblin?

Yeah. Now lowly scum, but ancients built mighty kingdoms. Their shamanism impressed even us dragons.

"Well? Can you?"

Hainel urged as Vulcan consulted Tud.

"'Must protect the secret of life.'"

Dragon Eye translated ancient goblin too—Tud knew it.

"Oho! Amazing!"

Vulcan blurted it out; Hainel scribbled excitedly. Basic goblin ok, but ancient needed building blocks.

"One more favor? Stelea with ancient goblin like that dot the Night Forest. Fetch and translate?"

"Pfft, between us? How to haul the stelae?"

Mob-infested forest—grinding hunt for ten? But 100-gold reward? Vulcan flashed a salesman grin, rubbing hands.

"Tricky—they're protected by some force. Just translate for now."

"Back soon!"

Dragon Eye spotted them all. Breeze for him; he bolted out.

Creepy things lurking... something brewing?

"Huh? What?"

Never mind. See for yourself later.

Tud's odd mutter aside, Vulcan mapped a route, dodging where possible, bulldozing mobs otherwise, collecting script.

"What does this even mean?"

Copying fine, but single conceptual words—fire, wind, darkness. Why engrave them? Hainel's motive suspicious.

Curious? Five chocolates, I'll spill.

Tud poked. Cake and drinks were treats, but pure chocolate his fave.

"Deal!"

Word shamanism. Letters hold power, amplified shamanistically. Proof of ancient goblins' might.

No spoiling habits usually, but worth it. Chucked chocolate; info flowed.

"Word shamanism?"

Below true word magic, but practical. Common once, now lost—continents razed, civs crumbled.

Like pseudo-magic: power in glyphs. Inferior to spoken word arts, but inscribed like enchantments—versatile. Word arts elite-only; this anyone with tools could wield, fused with shamanism. Goblins leaned in.

"Hmm. Maybe not the language—word shamanism itself."

Dunno?

Scholarly NPC? Possible. Scriptless words on ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠stelae screamed technique.

"Whatever, collect and see."

He gathered all ten, returned.

Yes! 100 gold = 1 mil won cash value. Motives be damned—irresistible.

"Hmm... hrm... huuuum..."

Hainel puzzled over positions, scripts, translations—then looked up unsatisfied, chaining another quest.

"Not enough to grasp fully. One more favor? I'll pay extra."

"Work me like a dog!"

"Forest center has a big one like those. Investigate; translate if nothing else."

"Back like the wind!"

Similar, but 200 gold! Why not send first time? Felt like a spin, but more gold? No complaints. Vulcan dashed centerward, spotted the massive stele.

"...Huh? This?"

Dragon Eye triggered.