Chapter 27: Dreams Come True

Chapter 27: Dreams Come True

Darcus's arrangement wasn't to give wealth directly to Leech, but rather to select a lucky player from the bottom of the ship. He wasn't that stupid; what if the item was a fake? Would he have to go to Hal Gansi to interrogate Leech then?

As a master of fabrication, he had reason to suspect that even the name "Leech" was fake, and that he wasn't actually the eighth in line.

Darcus called this game the "Druzi Grand Roulette."

The rules were simple: the lucky player only needed to wear the ring and stand still. Unfortunately, even if he wanted to move, he couldn't; Dustan Cold-Eye had the sailors hang him up.

If the Amber Spear failed to hit him three times, he would be set free. Darcus always kept his word.

Alisha stood outside the range of eight swords and summoned a glowing Amber Spear. When the spear was still one sword-length away from the lucky player, a miraculous scene occurred: the tip of the Amber Spear actually lifted upward and flew directly toward the sky. (One sword-length being 2.4 meters.)

Refusing to believe it was luck, Alisha stepped forward two more sword-lengths. This time, when the Amber Spear reached the one-sword mark, it veered to the right, whistling past the lucky player's head.

Watching this, Leech's heart felt like it was breaking.

This time, Alisha walked directly to a distance of two sword-lengths from the lucky player.

Darcus shouted, "Sarah, get back!" while waving his hand.

In this tea party, only Darcus wore a Hardrica; he hadn't allowed the three siblings or Dustan Cold-Eye to wear one. After all, not every deal was guaranteed to succeed, and it wouldn't be good to be held a grudge by the vengeful and paranoid Druzi.

Alisha retreated another two sword-lengths, but the Amber Spear still missed.

She was starting to lose her confidence. Although they were by the coast and the Gual Winds were somewhat weak, her specialty during her training had been attacking from various angles with the Amber Spear. It was her signature move, her ultimate skill. It was precisely this skill that had allowed her to pass the Twelve Trials of the Warlock; otherwise, her soul would have long since returned to the embrace of Esu Hai, the Pale Queen.

Seeing his sister's doubt, Flanes said, "That is the Kotek Ring. Perhaps this human truly is very lucky."

Darcus nodded in satisfaction. This deal was a massive profit. He then snapped his fingers.

"Arrange it!"

Dustan Cold-Eye immediately ordered the sailors to untie the lucky player. After congratulating him on winning the ring, they tossed him directly into the sea. He was free!

A moment later, a scream drifted up. Darcus looked at Dustan Cold-Eye in confusion.

Dustan spread his hands indifferently and said, "It seems he wasn't very lucky this time. The lucky ones are the sharks beneath the Cold-Heart Sea."

"May Kane bless him. Thanks to the gifts of nature."

***

Alan's brother was led out of the dark, damp cabin. He stumbled along the deck, looking up at the sun he hadn't seen in a long time.

Having listened to his fellow townsmen in the cabin all the way, he seemed to know what awaited him.

Leech returned to his own ship, cursing under his breath.

"Dammit! That was the Kotek Ring! It was something my mother left for me! And they traded it for a pile of trash! Argh!!!"

The more he thought about the experiment just now, the angrier he became, and he kicked a nearby wooden barrel violently.

He knew the reputation of the House of Hell's Calamity. When he said he was mortgaging it for a hundred years, it was only to save face; he would never get it back.

But what choice did he have?

If he returned from the trials empty-handed, he would become the laughingstock of the Gorad family and the subject of gossip among the elites of Hal Gansi.

His father was extremely prideful. He couldn't imagine what would happen next—his father would kill him, and his "dear" older brothers would torment him even more severely.

He had taken every precaution, yet he was still played by his brothers. As soon as the ship left the Cold-Heart Sea, problems arose, making long-distance navigation impossible.

Leech spotted Alan's brother. The little fellow was walking with his head bowed in fear. Leech drew his stiletto and hissed viciously in Batonian, "You! Come here!"

A sailor shoved Alan's brother forward. He fell onto the deck, and Leech grabbed him by the hair, using the stiletto to slice through his tattered clothes and into the skin of his chest.

Leech roared at the boy, "Don't you dare scream! Hold it in, or I'll fucking kill you!"

Alan's brother understood. Tears welled up, but he bit his lip hard to prevent any sound from escaping.

"Don't! You! Dare! Cry!"

Leech carved a long wound across the boy's chest. His technique was exquisite; it bled profusely, yet it wouldn't even leave a scar.

"Good, very good! Little guy, from now on, you'll stay by my side to serve me and tend my horses. This is my gift to you. I hope you like it!"

Under his father's upbringing, Alan's brother had a dream: to tend horses for a knight and serve a knight. Now, his dream had come true!

***

"Next guest, please!"

This time, a female Druzi noble arrived. She was nothing special and got straight to the point, stating she wanted to be Darcus's lover and suggesting they "practice" right then and there. Darcus didn't give her the time of day and told her to get lost.

"Next guest, please!"

This one was even more "heavyweight." He expected Darcus to give him some wealth and warned Darcus not to be ungrateful.

*Holy shit, where do these freaks come from? How did he live to sixteen? Could the Druzi in this port have let him live this long?*

"Get out!"

Several elites forced him down. He continued to curse from beneath the ship until the ship's repeating crossbows began to fire.

Darcus toyed with the Kotek Ring and asked, "Are there no normal Druzi in that port? Why are they all brain-dead? Then again, who would go there if they were normal?"

In Druzi society, determining whether an elf was "normal" or not had already become a philosophical question.

This port was a sanctuary for those who failed the Haxiye trials. As mentioned before, while these trials were like children playing house, they were filled with complexities. There were Batonian business partners, people writing letters from the port to have their families send wealth, speculators trading in the interests of trial-takers, people sending wealth to seek promises, looters whose ships capsized, moneylenders, and people like Darcus who came to make friends.

Of course, these were all crooked paths. There is a saying: natural selection, survival of the fittest, the strong prey on the weak. The children of the elites who could come here were not suited to survive on the grand stage of the Druzi. If they could barely scrape through this stage, what about the next?

By now, Rain was breaking into a cold sweat. He had botched the job.

"My Lord, a ship just left the day before yesterday, and many ships have left since then."

Darcus understood. Either they had just arrived yesterday, or they were the "scraps"—like that freak just now. His head ached; he couldn't even get rid of the wealth he was trying to give away.

Without looking back, Darcus asked, "How many are left?"

"My Lord, two more."

"Next guest, please!"

The man had a young, handsome face marked by a hint of gloom. His black hair was tied back with a simple band, and his black steel Hardrica shimmered on his chest.

Darcus looked at the cold lizard emblem and stood up.

Marus Blackblade?

"The Storm of Klatin's Hook from Haig Grave, paying respects to the House of Hell's Calamity."

*Wait, no!*

That surname sounded like an alias. Darcus remembered: this was one of the eight great noble families of Haig Grave. Their Dread Lord was responsible for commanding the Cold Lizard Dread Knights of Haig Grave.

"Darcus Hell's Calamity, how can I help you?"

Klatin knelt on one knee and said, "My Lord, I require wealth. I will serve you for a hundred years, or repay you a thousandfold within a century."

"Did you arrive yesterday?"

"Yes, my Lord."

"Why did you come?"

"In Leonis, Batonia, our retreat was intercepted by a knightly order led by a female knight."

"How do you prove you are Klatin's Hook Storm?"

Dustan Cold-Eye spoke up at that moment, "My Lord!"

Darcus understood. He smiled and said, "In that case, let's be friends. I will give you the wealth of Lucita. As for how you fabricate the story, that is your problem. You can say you plundered it alongside me."

After some small talk, the cargo transfer was completed.

Darcus snapped his fingers.

"The last one is gone. Let's go home!"

*End of Volume.*