Chapter Twenty-Nine: Frustration

As long as the bloodline is powerful, it matters not whether it is of demons or of the gods. Morley brought up the illustrious deeds of the little witch’s mother to make a point: if a witch can earn respect among the nobility, then Carlos’s lineage as the demon child of the Summer Blood is hardly a grave issue.

Carlos sat on the bed, sensing the changes within his body. A distinct flow of energy coursed around his waist and abdomen, astonishing him. Cautiously, he tried to guide a stream of this energy into his palm. Instantly, a black current enveloped his entire arm, filling it with a sensation of power—a most direct manifestation of the dark energy.

Carlos extended his arm, studying it before his eyes for a while, unable to hide his excitement and amazement. This was the first time he had truly felt the presence of supernatural power. The dark energy clung to his arm like black smoke, swirling and shifting with the light movements of his limb—mysterious and extraordinary.

But while some rejoiced, others worried. The little witch, Meru Elandel, wore a face full of gloom as she looked out the window.

Outside, a black carriage stood waiting, with two figures in gray cloaks stationed at its front. They were wrapped so tightly that their features were completely concealed.

When Dubui entered from outside, Meru hurried to meet him, complaining, “Grandfather, I don’t want to go to the Central Province.”

“Don’t be foolish. I haven’t even held you to account for forming a private contract with a demon. Since your mother has sent people here, this is a good chance to resolve the matter for now.”

“Grandfather, help me get my token back. How can a witch sign a contract with a human?”

Dubui looked at his granddaughter, who clung to his arm, shaking it back and forth, but his resolve did not waver as he replied sternly, “It’s only temporary. In time, Carlos will naturally return the contract token to you. After all, there’s no true contract between you. Once Carlos completely refines the dark energy, the contract will become void.”

“I’m just worried he won’t manage it. Digesting even half of a commander-level Nightmare’s dark energy is no easy feat.”

Dubui sighed. “You nearly cost Carlos his life. This is the consequence you must bear.”

Meru Elandel stuck out her tongue. “Grandfather, I didn’t know that demon would try to harm him! Besides, didn’t he end up getting an advantage out of it?”

Dubui glared at her, shaking his head wearily. “If you don’t want to be tied to the gates of the Stevenson house and burned alive, this is the best outcome you could hope for.”

Meru’s face fell, and she clung to Dubui’s arm. “Grandfather, I really don’t want to go down to the Wizard Alliance. It’s so unbearably dull there.”

“When you were manipulating mutated beasts in the Rodney Mountains, you should have considered the consequences of using forbidden mind-control arts if you were caught. If it weren’t for your mother, the people outside wouldn’t be here to escort the child of a great witch back to the city, but rather to execute a rule-breaking witch.”

“But those beasts aren’t human, and I never harmed them.”

“Nevertheless, you triggered a significant beast tide. The level-five magical beast in the house across the way gained intelligence early because of your forbidden spell. The Witch Alliance needs a reasonable explanation from you for that. In short, you’ve stirred up enough trouble this time. If you don’t return, not even your mother can protect you.”

Dubui’s tone grew cold, and Meru wisely fell silent.

As dusk settled, the two gray-cloaked figures from the Wizard Alliance took the coachman’s seat of the carriage. The little witch, Meru Elandel, entered the worn, old carriage as well.

Carlos was aware that the little witch outside the alchemy hut was leaving.

Derricht was in his room. “Do you want me to avenge you now? The wilds along the route to the Central Province would make a fine burial ground.”

Carlos rolled his eyes.

“If you want me dead quickly, go ahead.”

Derricht was surprised. “Is that contract really so powerful? Does it bind your lives together?”

Carlos shook his head with a wry smile. “It’s one-sided. She can’t die, but I can.”

“Huh? What does that mean?”

“It’s simple. If she dies before I’ve refined the dark energy, I probably won’t survive either. But if I die by accident, she’ll be just fine.”

Derricht scratched his head with his prosthetic right arm. “Why did Father agree to such a lousy contract? He seemed in a good mood about it earlier.”

Carlos drew a breath, a chill in his eyes. “Because their backing is too strong for us to provoke. This contract is our way of offering assurance.”

“Assurance of what?”

“That our Stevenson family won’t retaliate or seek vengeance over this incident, so they can rest easy and not trouble us further.” Carlos’s tone was casual and indifferent, but his face was frosted with coldness.

He had nearly lost his life at the hands of that little witch, and yet still had to sign a guarantee, a life-and-death pledge, promising to let bygones be bygones. It was humiliating, but it was the stark reality.

“Do you really think Father will swallow this insult? That’s not like him at all.”

Carlos gave a bitter laugh. “Then tell me, what kind of man do you think Father is?”

Derricht thought for a moment. “Protective, vengeful over every slight, and… greedy for money.”

Carlos nodded. His brother’s summary was mostly accurate, but there was one thing left unsaid: Father never did a losing deal.

Carlos, who had been silently pondering, suddenly spoke up, “It looks like this matter will mostly fall to my new teacher, won’t it?”

Derricht paused. “Yeah, it seems so. I heard the family plans to expand the salt mines, keeping the ones in the ruined Sylin City running. Father’s been busy hiring refugees lately. The dwarf overseer of the salt mines, Julio, has already gone to check things out in Sylin. But…”

He quickly organized his thoughts. “But the nobles from eastern Cyprus, and some of the old landlords from Sylin, want a piece of the action. The exclusive contract for Sylin’s salt mines is too tempting. Some have even said they’ll buy the ruined salt mines at market price. There’s a lot of talk in Cyprus about it right now.”

“Oh? Isn’t that a losing proposition?”

“If we can secure exclusive rights to the Sylin salt mines, we’d own vast tracts of land in the city. Whether for cultivation or resettlement, it’s a great opportunity. The salt mine is the only large-scale industry on the eastern border of Cyprus. As long as the mines operate, people from all over will flock there—miners, merchants, peddlers—these people will rebuild the ruined Sylin City.”

Carlos suddenly understood. “So, rather than buying the salt mines, it’s more like buying a whole city…” He shot Derricht a glance and asked carefully, “Do we really have that much money?”

Derricht smiled and looked at Carlos with absolute certainty. “We do. Before Father’s downfall, it was precisely because he was too rich that he was targeted. So, yes, we have the money, but what we lack is someone who can keep it safe from schemers.”

“Who?”