Chapter 21: The Deal

A pulse of mana rippled through the cave. Feeling an unknown mana source was the last thing these men wanted, but this was different. The thin layer of mana that brushed against them sent chills down their spines, as though they had encountered a great beast they shouldn’t be messing with.

Weapons in hand, both men turned toward the entrance of the chamber.

"Who's there? Show yourself!"

The young man stood cautiously, his battle uniform black and partially covered with the snow that had exploded from his previous attack. Moreover, the winds of his technique were so strong they had loosened his long dark blue hair from the ponytail it had been tied into.

His gaze fixed on the entrance, cautious and analytical. He knew that the presence he felt wasn’t from the ice foxes that could be found on this floor.

Slowly, a figure draped in a large black hoodie, obscuring most of their body, stepped forward. The cloak seemed perfectly suited for the environment, lined with white fur that resembled that of the ice foxes around the hood and neck. It looked expensive.

Judging by the build and stature, the young man assumed it was a woman. With the hood drawn, it was hard to see her face, but silver hair strands fell alongside her marble-like skin, which had a soft rosy tint. She walked halfway into the chamber without saying a word.

"Are you a mage exploring the labyrinth? If you don’t answer, I’ll assume you have hostile intentions," his voice was rigid and straightforward.

The air grew tense in her presence. Slowly, her soft pink lips parted, and a sweet yet hypnotic voice reached their ears.

"I see your companion is in poor shape, and your healing potions have run dry, haven't they?"

Her cold voice felt distant.

"Are you saying you're going to help us?" Oliver raised his voice slightly, his obsidian-like eyes watching for any suspicious movements from the woman.

"I came prepared with a few extra intermediate healing potions, and I'm willing to sell them at a fair price."

She moved her hand carefully, as if showing she meant no harm. From her cloak's pocket, she revealed three green potions in intricately decorated glass vials.

"Five gold coins for each. What do you say?"

"What the hell? That’s a robbery!" The man with the spiked club shouted in protest, rising to his feet and pointing his weapon at the silver-haired woman. "People's lives are at stake! Just give us the potions!"

"You’ve misunderstood the situation."

Instantly, the man felt his insides twist as a powerful killing intent surged through his body. The woman hadn't moved; she merely spread a thin layer of mana over herself.

"I didn’t come here to offer charity. You entered this labyrinth fully aware of the risks, didn't you? If you don’t agree to my price, we can pretend this conversation never happened."

The man collapsed to his knees, drenched in cold sweat. His wounds made it hard to move, but the intense pressure his battered body was under was too much to bear.

Without saying anything further, the woman began to turn away, but before she could leave, a voice stopped her.

"Wait, please." It was the voice of the man with dark blue hair. "Forgive my companion’s behavior. We accept your terms. We’ll buy the potions."

Lowering his sword, he reached into a pouch attached to his combat uniform and pulled out five gold coins along with a green emerald coin, engraved with the crest of a winged lizard.

"I only have five coins with me right now. This is my family’s crest. If you go to a bank in Caligo and present it along with the name ‘Oliver,’ I guarantee they’ll give you at least five times the remaining amount. Please, I ask for your consideration."

The young man kneeled on one knee and bowed his head deeply.

"Oliver!" The man next to him looked desperate, seeing Oliver in such a humble posture. But before he could protest, he was silenced with a wave of the hand.

"I just want to save my companion's life."

Each second lost meant his ally’s chance of survival diminished. Oliver kept his head low, extending the coins toward the woman.

"I hope you're not lying about this, but I’ll trust your good faith," she said, taking the coins from his hand and placing five potions into his palm.

When Oliver lifted his head and noticed there were two extra potions, he seemed confused but quickly handed them to the man with the club to start treating the injured shield-bearer.

Wasting no time, the woman walked past the men and headed toward the other side of the corridor. The dense layer of snow, stirred by Oliver’s attack, had revealed the staircase to the next floor.

Seeing her leaving, Oliver stood up and called out again.

"Could you tell me your name?"

He wasn’t sure if she would respond. The woman who had appeared so suddenly and left just as quickly seemed intent on maintaining a low profile.

But just before she reached the stairs, something unexpected happened.

She turned around and pulled down her hood, revealing her long white hair blowing in the frozen cavern air. On one side of her face, a mesmerizing sky-blue eye met his gaze, and her lips parted slightly.

"Lily."

---

After pouring the fifth potion into the unconscious shield-bearer’s mouth, the man was now breathing normally.

Wiping a layer of sweat from his brow, the man with the club had finished treating his companion and was now bandaging his wounds.

His gaze drifted to Oliver, who was gripping his sword, scanning for any signs of approaching foxes. Despite hours of fighting monsters, Oliver appeared unwavering.

"Forgive us... because of our weakness, we put you in this situation." He bit his lip as he looked down, unable to muster the courage to meet his gaze. "We caused you to lower your head; we'll accept any punishment you deem necessary."

His voice wavered as he sank deeper into self-loathing. When Oliver approached, the man braced himself for punishment, but instead, a firm hand rested on his shoulder, a gesture meant to stop him from further blaming himself.

"I was the one who decided to bring us here in secret, fully aware of the risks. The consequences should fall on my shoulders, so don’t blame yourself again. That's an order."

Oliver’s words were strong, causing the man's body to tremble. No matter how much guilt they felt, Oliver had no intention of letting them bear the burden of what had happened.

“That woman... is it okay to give her that crest?” The man asked, hesitantly. His voice was filled with concern over the situation they’d found themselves in.

He noticed how Oliver’s gaze drifted toward the stairs leading to the third lower level, his right hand never leaving the hilt of his weapon.

“Something about her was unsettling. The fact that she appeared alone and continued on her own... makes me think she came here solo, unlike us. There were no wounds or bloodstains on her clothes. It’s hard not to conclude that she’s strong enough to explore this place without difficulty. We were fortunate not to provoke her hostility.”

This was the first time the man had ever heard Oliver describe someone in such a manner, and it left him shocked.

“If the two of you had fought... who would’ve won?”

The question could have implied doubt in Oliver’s abilities, but he didn’t seem bothered by it at all.

“Her mana didn’t feel natural. Even though she was clearly human, her aura felt like that of a monster.” He ran his hand along the hilt of his sword and continued. “Honestly, I can’t imagine winning.”

The words slipped from his mouth as if he were stating a fact. There was no discouragement in his eyes, only resolve. And that, more than anything, left the man astonished.

At that moment, a faint groan escaped from the unconscious shield-bearer’s mouth, signaling that he would soon wake up. Oliver moved to the body of their fallen comrade and respectfully lifted him in his arms.

“As soon as he wakes, we’ll leave. I’ll take the body back to the capital so we can hold a proper funeral. He gave his life for us, and I will honor that.”

Hearing Oliver’s words, the man kneeled and bowed his head low.

“Thank you, my lord.”

For the first time, Oliver frowned.

“I’ve already ordered you to keep my status secret outside the capital.”

Looking at the kneeling man, the Second Prince of the Empire, Russelian Oliver Anthus, sighed deeply.