Chapter 94: Act 30 – Brendel’s Plan (Celebrating the Fourth Flight of the Fourth Generation)
“Anyway, I won’t agree…” Before Freya could finish her sentence, she saw Romaine looking pitiable and had to swallow the rest of her words, leaving behind, “I, I can’t be bothered with you two—”
Brendel had long known that Freya was tough on the outside but soft-hearted inside, so he poured out his pouch onto the table, and several silver coins clinked out, probably around four or five hundred Tor.
He was taken aback, not expecting he only had so little money left. He had originally received a small handful of low-level gems among the spoils in Aibodun, selling them for a good price in Ankez, amounting to tens of thousands of Tor. He had divided that amount into three parts, giving them to Romaine and Freya for safekeeping, and only then did he remember that he had nearly exhausted his funds in Ankez while purchasing evening primrose, glow moss, and black sorcerer’s magical materials—
These three magical materials, when combined with golden acorns, could concoct a high-level mana potion that activates will properties in a short time, reputedly the Wizard’s Frenzy Potion—an extravagant item that was in short supply in the game, and would likely be highly sought after in this world.
However, this thing was like the painting of the million Tor elf princess “Dark Radiance” in his hands, an investment that wouldn’t yield returns anytime soon. Especially that painting, he found himself unable to part with it at the moment, and now he regretted having entrusted it to Charles. He wished he had simply taken a couple of gold and silver utensils back then.
Items like this one, with obvious distinguishing features, were not easy to sell in the black market unless he found a more private channel. However, Brendel felt a bit frustrated that when he was still a player, he didn’t have these concerns; players didn’t need to consider NPCs’ feelings—
He lined up the coins on the table and sighed, “Looks like I only have this much left. But Freya should have some, right?”
“Why, why do you keep bringing me into your matters?” Freya almost couldn’t catch her breath while retorting. She glared fiercely at Brendel but still took out her pouch of coins, “Ugh, anyway, all our travel expenses are in here, you, you manage it yourselves…”
The pouch that Freya tossed onto the table contained over four thousand Tor. Brendel was momentarily stunned, unable to hide his astonishment at her.
It had almost been a month since they left the Dragas region, and during this time, he, Romaine, Balthom, the alchemist Tam, and his son had their eating, clothing, and accommodations almost entirely managed by Freya. With six people and four horses, along with the cost of hiring a coach, Brendel naturally thought the travel funds he handed over to Freya should be nearly depleted, but he didn’t expect there to be so much left!
He didn’t expect Freya to be quite the homemaker, he couldn’t help but think.
“What, what are you looking at?” Noticing Brendel’s gaze, Freya froze for a moment and couldn’t help but check herself, wondering if she wore the wrong clothes.
“Nothing, just think Freya is quite virtuous. I wonder who will be so fortunate as to marry such a lady?” Brendel replied, looking at her.
“Freya belongs to Romaine,” Romaine chimed in, laughing happily from the side.
The girl with the long ponytail turned as red as the evening glow, her heart racing uncontrollably: “What good fortune… Wh-what nonsense are you spouting, such boring talk.”
She immediately shot a harsh glare at Romaine, “And you, Romaine, shut up—”
Unfortunately, the Merchant Miss had already ignored the attack. With a smile, she took out a pouch that was, like Brendel’s, rather limp. She shook the empty pouch and replied, “Romaine doesn’t have much money either.”
“Damn, where’s your money!” Freya was taken aback and couldn’t help but ask. At the beginning, Brendel had evenly split the money into three parts; logically, this merchant lady should be the least likely to have spent hers.
“Gathering information requires money, you know, Freya, and I also bought a warehouse to store some wine,” Romaine answered matter-of-factly.
“You bought a warehouse?” Freya was stunned, when did that happen?
“When you weren’t paying attention.”
“You should have told me about such a thing.”
Romaine pondered for a moment and mysteriously shook her finger, “A merchant’s little secret—”
“A secret, my foot!” Freya clenched her fists, momentarily speechless with anger, but she knew Romaine was just like that, leaving her at a loss for words.
“Little Romaine, you’re storing liquor, not food?” Brendel asked instead.
“Hmm, Brendel, mainly gin and sweet pine liquor,” the Merchant Miss nodded.
Brendel scrutinized the clean and clear face in front of him—Romaine was staring at him with bright eyes—the curious spark in the girl’s eyes seemed to always be filled with wonder.
“Did you anticipate that the war would end in July?” Eventually, the young man couldn’t help but ask.
“A bit later. Romaine didn’t foresee the situation would turn so urgent either, but with Madara’s army stalled in Dragas, I think they must be looking for new prey, right? Didn’t Brendel often say, the timing of the war is in a line, and even the Undead commander should know this—”
“But in any case, after the war ends, the nobles will need a celebration. Aren’t people talking about it?” the Merchant Miss counted on her fingers.
“How do you know all this, Romaine?” Freya looked at her in disbelief.
“A merchant’s little secret.” Romaine’s tail perked up again.
“You’re learning quickly,” Brendel couldn’t help but flick Romaine on her forehead as she leaned in proudly, making her cover her forehead and wrinkle her small brows as she shrank back, complaining, “D-Don’t flick me, Brendel!”
However, Brendel thought this might have less to do with learning and more with an innate sensitivity. In any case, it was quite rare to see a girl like Little Romaine with such talent.
He looked again at the three pouches on the table with nearly five thousand Tor in cash and thought about how many expenses he would need to maintain his current identity and gradually realize those plans after arriving in Bruglas. Not to mention future territory construction, which would cost a fortune—after all, as the saying goes, emperors do not mind hungry soldiers; Retao’s subordinates were counting on him to support them—Brendel rubbed his forehead and realized he had missed an important step in his agenda. Clearly, making money had to be prioritized on the agenda.
However, he didn’t expect much from the high-level mana potion, the painting of the “Dark Radiance” princess, or the Endless Ice earrings; buyers for these items in the impoverished southern areas of Golan-Elsen were either overly cautious or impossible to find.
Unless it was in the capital city of Golan-Elsen, Kurk, or northern places like Ampere Seale, White Sail City, or the kingdom’s capital Monsteras, where extravagant spenders were common, and in the underground black market, selling anything wouldn’t raise too much attention.
After thinking for a while, Brendel realized that his only way to make money, besides becoming a quack, was probably through alchemy. Of course, the former’s benefits were unpredictable, but the risks of getting bound to a stake were certain. So, alchemy remained a safer bet, especially since he had Tam as an assistant—it was all but guaranteed.
In any case, those nobles were all schemers, and they would definitely love anything made with tree crystals, graveyard dust (the spoils from Aibodun), and the poisons he concocted. The surplus evening primrose, black sorcerer’s ingredients, and glow moss could also be made into mana potions and would surely be popular among those intermediate wizards.
Convinced of this, he asked, “Romaine, how much do you need? Is one hundred thousand Tor enough?”
“A hundred thousand?” Freya was shocked by the side, “Brendel, we don’t have that much money!”
“I heard that Count Nakin’s treasury has quite a bit of coin…” Brendel stroked his chin and replied.
“Y-You…” The ponytail girl’s face turned pale; based on Brendel’s behavior in Ridenburg, she was genuinely afraid he might actually do that.
However, the Merchant Miss seemed completely unconcerned, replying cheerfully, “A bit more would be even better. Romaine conservatively estimates it will double—”
“Romaine, don’t create trouble on the side; try to persuade Brendel. He intends to, to…” Freya cautiously looked around as she tried to finish the sentence—but she was worried that someone nearby would overhear and immediately report it to the local gentry. She feared that they three wouldn’t even be able to leave this inn.
“Freya, Brendel is someone you can trust,” Romaine said.
“Trust you, my foot!”
Freya was almost exasperated to death, but she thought about it, determined that she absolutely couldn’t let Brendel rob the noble’s treasury. The last time he escaped from prison in Ridenburg was just out of necessity; this time, it couldn’t happen again.
The girl finally managed to convince herself that this was for the greater good and not because she worried that Brendel would end up on the gallows.
Coming to that conclusion, she finally calmed down and glared fiercely at Brendel.
“By the way, what did you bring everyone to this village for so early in the morning?” After calming down, she suddenly realized another issue.
This human village along the main road didn’t seem more than a settlement with only twenty-three families and an inn—according to Brendel, the kind of unnamed village that wouldn’t even appear on maps.
Yet, they had been there for almost half the morning.
She couldn’t help but glance at Brendel.
What Freya didn’t expect was that Brendel was starting to feel a bit impatient as well. He had sent Balthom out nearly half an hour ago, yet he still hadn’t returned. Could it be he miscalculated?
But looking through the inn’s wooden window at the outside—this didn’t seem wrong to him at all. Brendel didn’t think his memory had deteriorated to such a point that he couldn’t remember such a place. He spotted an old beech tree by the side of the main road and recognized the style of the buildings behind it, convinced he wasn’t in the wrong place.
Could it be that it was too early, and that person hadn’t moved here yet? But the forum said he was already here at the start of the game?
He couldn’t help but frown.
Finally, he saw a bright splash of red appear around the street corner—it was Balthom’s red beard.
Brendel raised an eyebrow.
(PS: This is the fourth update for today, with fifteen thousand words! The next chapter is set to be a five-thousand-word major chapter. Celebrate the fourth generation’s flight with a total of twenty thousand words! I indeed live up to the country and the people.
In the name of the party and nation, brothers, please lend some support!) (To be continued. To know what happens next, please log in for more chapters and support the author for legitimate reading!)
