Chapter 86

Episode 86. Bring the Salt (2)

“Good things can happen. We usually call that luck.”

“I’ve decided to call it a scam.”

“So, you don’t trust me?”

The Grand Duke did nothing.

Yet, Keter’s head involuntarily tilted upward.

The seated Grand Duke’s figure grew larger, filling the reception room and piercing through the ceiling. Soon, he became a giant so immense that even tilting his head back fully wouldn’t reveal his face.

But in reality, nothing had happened. It was just how Keter *felt*.

The overwhelming presence the Grand Duke deliberately displayed. It surpassed even Dayal, the Lord of the East, the strongest adversary Keter had faced in his past life.

An image flashed in his mind.

A vivid image of the Grand Duke crushing him to death with just his pinky finger.

*Heh.*

Keter let out a laugh.

Not out of madness from fear. It was a smile of joy.

“You’re threatening me because you think I can revive Sephira without your help, right?”

“……”

“With the Grand Duke personally encouraging me, I’m at a loss for what to do. Haha!”

“Hoo…”

The Grand Duke’s immense presence melted away like snow.

Returning to his usual appearance of a kindly old man next door, the Grand Duke let out a hearty laugh.

“What a shame, what a shame. I should’ve kidnapped you and kept you under my wing when you were still a clueless child.”

“There are plenty of people in this world better than me. You’d find them quickly, Grand Duke.”

It wasn’t humility but sincerity.

Yet, the Grand Duke shook his head.

“There are many better than you. But none of them catch my fancy. That’s why it’s hard to give up on you.”

The Grand Duke, who had been sitting comfortably the entire time, leaned forward.

“It’s natural to doubt luck. But such things exist in the world. Having lived in Ruquer, you must’ve experienced senseless misfortune often. The opposite exists too. Senseless luck. You don’t trust me because you’re trying to find a reason for that luck.”

“There’s no such thing as senseless luck or misfortune.”

“What reason is there for a sudden downpour or picking up a coin on the street? It’s just luck.”

“Rain doesn’t fall suddenly. There are always signs. Dark clouds gather, or the feel of the air changes. Picking up a coin on the street is also possible because of keen observation. It’s just a reasonable loss and reward based on knowledge and appropriate choices.”

“So, you don’t believe in causality, in luck and misfortune?”

“No, I do. I just haven’t experienced proper causality yet.”

“That’s understandable. You haven’t even lived half a life.”

Keter flinched momentarily.

Given the flow of the conversation, he almost said, “I’ve lived as long as you, Grand Duke.” To anyone else, it might’ve been fine, but saying such a thing to the Grand Duke was dangerous.

But staying silent was equally dangerous, so he responded immediately.

“Life is about quality, not quantity.”

“Hoho, you really do get along with me. Indeed, no matter how long one lives, a wasted life can’t be called fully lived.”

“Your life seems quite fulfilling, Grand Duke, but saving a declining noble family is also quite fun. I’d recommend it.”

“I envy you. You, who can do anything. Do you know you’re the first to reject my offer twice?”

“Having rejected an irresistible offer twice, have I fallen out of your favor?”

This wasn’t the first time Keter had received an offer from the Grand Duke. He had met him when he was just a six-year-old brat.

Back then, the Grand Duke had made an offer he couldn’t refuse. To come under his wing. In return, he’d provide a safe haven and power that no one could ignore.

At that time, Keter was living on the streets. Starving, his body emaciated, and covered in wounds from territorial fights with stray dogs.

It was an offer he truly had no reason to refuse, yet Keter refused.

“I’ll live my life my way.”

A six-year-old Keter, who should’ve been throwing tantrums and playing childish games, was already an adult.

“From the moment you refused my offer, you were marked.”

“I’ll endure it. That’s my charm, isn’t it?”

“That’s what makes you special.”

Keter sensed the conversation was coming to an end.

But for some reason, the Grand Duke’s rear still seemed heavy. There was more to discuss.

“I’ll stop with the offers. From here on, it’s a trade.”

The Grand Duke’s finger rose.

He pointed directly at the red cross necklace, the Blood Sword Dracula.

“Sell that to me.”

* * *

The Dracula hanging from Keter’s neck remained silent and docile.

But the moment the Grand Duke pointed at it, it vibrated, exuding presence.

[Arrogant fool! A mere priest dares to point at me!]

“Hoho, calm down.”

The Grand Duke drew a circle in the air with his finger. The vibrations subsided.

[Y-you! I’ve made a pact with Ruquer. You, as Ruquer’s priest, dare not interfere with this pact!]

“As I feared, your mouth is quite loose. Thanks to that, things will get troublesome.”

Ruquer’s priest.

Unintentionally, Keter learned the true identities of Ruquer and the Grand Duke through Dracula.

Ruquer wasn’t the name of a city but a living being—a ‘god.’

And the title of priest referred to the one who received the greatest favor from such a god.

‘So, this place isn’t a city but the maw of a god. The Grand Duke is the priest.’

Though shocking, it was like a bolt from the blue in a clear sky. Anywhere else, it might’ve been different, but in Ruquer…

‘That’s just how it is.’

Other Ruquerians might’ve been startled at first, but they’d probably just go, “Oh, I see. So what?”

The Grand Duke spoke to Keter, who maintained a calm expression.

“Will you sell it, or will you use it? Choose freely. I don’t want to expend causality to obtain it.”

Dracula intercepted Keter’s response.

[Mortal! Refuse the priest’s offer. Accept my power and kill him. You’ll become a demigod in an instant.]

“Do you think you can defeat the Grand Duke?”

[Even if he’s a priest, he’s still human. Humans can’t be my match.]

“Is that true, Grand Duke?”

“Hoho, how many more secrets must I reveal to satisfy you? Consider my side too.”

Though spoken lightly, Keter knew it was a serious warning.

*Snap!*

Keter forcibly tore the red cross, Dracula, from his neck.

[What are you doing, you fool! Without me, you can’t leave Ruquer! Even with a million gold, you’ll never escape this place!]

“You’re noisy till the end. Grand Duke, can you shut this thing up?”

“With the owner’s permission, easily.”

*Click!*

The Grand Duke flicked his finger, and the noisy Dracula fell silent.

Keter leaned forward, forming a coin shape with his fingers.

“So, how much can you offer?”

“It’s a troublesome artifact for you, so I can’t offer much.”

“I agree. There’s no artifact as noisy as this in the world.”

“300,000.”

“Are you a thug? Oh, sorry. It just slipped out.”

“You could get a million if you sold it outside. But this is Dracula. Vampires seeking Dracula’s revival will track you down, and eventually, they’ll reach Sephira. Do you want vampires meddling in an already tough situation?”

“That’s a fair point. But let’s be clear. Not a million, but two million. If vampires truly desire Dracula’s revival, they’d spend their entire fortune to get it.”

“Two million gold is worth fighting vampires for, huh?”

“They’re an endangered species, few in number, and enemies of all humans. If they show up, they’ll be hunted. Sephira gains honor from hunting vampires, so it’s a win.”

“Don’t underestimate the surviving vampires.”

“I’m not underestimating them. I’m just confident I can win.”

“Hoho, I can’t deny that confidence. Then, 400,000 gold.”

Keter spread his palm.

“Let’s make it a clean 500,000.”

“420,000.”

“You’ve got more money than Queen Lilian, can’t you be a bit generous? 480,000.”

“440,000 is my final offer.”

“I need 20,000 gold as a commission fee. 480,000 plus 20,000 makes a neat 500,000, don’t you think?”

“460,000. No matter how much money I have, its value doesn’t change.”

The Grand Duke folded his arms. His firm stance indicated no further negotiation.

Keter pondered for a moment. If he took Dracula outside, would there be any use for it?

Cursed weapons have limited transformations. Meaning, a blood sword can’t become a blood bow.

Using Dracula wasn’t an option. There’s no swordsman to wield it, and finding the right person would be a hassle.

Selling it would also be tricky. As the Grand Duke said, vampires would inevitably get involved.

‘Tch, no more room to negotiate.’

The Grand Duke wants Dracula, and to Keter, it’s just a burden.

The negotiated price between them was 460,000.

A shame, but not an unreasonable price.

“I’ll sell it.”

“Then I’ll buy it.”

Keter handed over the red cross, and the Grand Duke accepted it.

*Splatter!*

Dracula spewed blood in a final struggle, but the Grand Duke’s firm grip silenced it.

“I’d like the payment in items, not cash.”

“Speak.”

“Five roots of thousand-year-old Mandragora. With the remaining money, I’d like elixirs and potions without side effects, graded accordingly.”

All items impossible to obtain even with money. Yet, the Grand Duke nodded briefly.

“All things Sephira needs. Understood.”

Finally, the Grand Duke stood up. Keter followed suit.

“Next time we meet, you won’t be able to refuse my offer.”

“If it’s a good offer, I won’t have a reason to refuse.”

“Hoho.”

The Grand Duke walked at a slow pace, but Keter matched his speed as they descended to the first floor.

Joyray, seated at the table, straightened up and spoke.

“Are your affairs concluded, Grand Duke?”

“Thanks to you, they’re well concluded. I’m in your debt.”

“You flatter me.”

From the lobby, Joyray escorted the Grand Duke. The two left the guild without looking back.

Keter, with his hands in his pockets, stared at the door they exited for a long time.

Luke cautiously approached and spoke.

“Keter, are you okay? That Grand Duke guy, he didn’t seem… human.”

“Luke. See that side door over there?”

“Yeah.”

“There’s a shelf inside. There should be a sack of salt on it. Bring it here.”

“Got it.”

Keter spoke so seriously that Luke quickly ran to fetch the sack of salt.

“Got it.”

“Sprinkle it outside the door. A lot.”

Keter, who didn’t want to meet the Grand Duke again if possible, was in an ambiguous position—neither ally nor enemy.