Chapter 191: Allen's Coin-Fueled Offensive
The group of veteran mages awoke to find Allen alive and well—casually wielding Crimson Magic.
Crimson chains extended from his rear, swaying and writhing like tentacles.
"Pretty stylish, huh? My Constipated Kagune."
As he spoke, Allen gave his hips a wiggle, sending the crimson chains lashing out and wrapping around a nearby tree. He shouted, "Mother's Embrace!"
Crack!
In an instant, the tree was pulverized into splinters.
"The proper way to use this spell is to imagine a month's worth of constipation, halfway through the push, a hemorrhoid bursts and gets stuck—feel the pain and pleasure all at once."
The crimson chains moved with the fluidity of tentacles and were remarkably agile.
More importantly, their power was top-tier, capable of ignoring interference from numerous other spells.
The veteran mages watched Allen showing off and were at a loss for words.
They wanted to scold him for dabbling in dark magic, but the kid had mastered it and could wield it as naturally as his own limbs.
What's more, his talent was off the charts—he grasped everything with ridiculous ease.
It was just… the way he used it was hard to look at. Most restraint-type spells were cast through hand gestures, but Allen had his coming out of his butt.
"Allen, stop overusing black magic. Hand the dark spellbook over to us for safekeeping," one of the mages advised.
Such a gifted youngster couldn't be allowed to fall into darkness. They patiently counseled him: "Once you reach the level of a veteran mage, using the Ring of Raggadorr as a foundation, you can safely wield dark magic without worrying about backlash. One of the ring's functions is to resonate with the laws of this universe. Combined with your own will, you'll be immune to the rebound effects."
"Damn it! I already swore loyalty to Cyttorak, and now you tell me this?!"
Allen was clearly bitter and frustrated. "I went all in kissing up to him like a rainbow-farting fanboy, and turns out it was all one-sided. I feel so cheated!"
"…"
The veteran mages looked visibly awkward.
They couldn't detect any trace of a demon god's aura. Truth be told, Cyttorak hadn't accepted Allen as his follower. Allen had managed to control black magic entirely through talent and raw strength.
"It's okay. Kamar-Taj has plenty of spellbooks. Just flip through this advanced one now and then—try out anything that catches your eye."
They swapped Allen's dark magic book with an advanced spell manual.
Before leaving, they also gave him a communication stone in case of emergencies.
…
The Next Day, Noon.
Principality of Princeton – Oakwood Monastery
At the monastery's iron gate, four strangers stood outside—it was Allen and his group.
"Can I help you with something?" asked a young nun, setting aside her work to greet them.
"Hi there! We're Ultramen from the M78 Nebula. We suspect you've got a Kabukabu alien hiding in your house. Wuwuwu…"
Before Allen could finish his nonsense, Agatha swiftly covered his mouth.
The Church had deep roots across the Eurasian continent—definitely not someone Allen should be picking a fight with. She shut him down before things escalated.
"Apologies. He's a bit… off. We're mages from Kamar-Taj, here to ask about Mage Griffin's visit," the Ancient One explained politely.
"Please wait a moment. I'll inform the abbess."
The nun, sensing the visitors weren't ordinary folks, didn't dare let them in without permission.
Before long, an older nun arrived, walking at an unhurried pace.
"Welcome, guests from afar. Friends of Kamar-Taj are always welcome."
The elder nun kindly invited the four into the monastery.
They were guided to some empty seats on the lawn, where she began recounting Mage Griffin's visit.
Meanwhile, Allen curiously examined the monastery.
It was a modest building steeped in age, likely a former winery that had since been converted into a charity-run orphanage by the Church.
In the distance, children's clothes hung out to dry, evidence that orphans were indeed being cared for here.
Allen's gaze landed on a tree nearby. He got up and walked over on a whim.
There, he found a filthy, tattered ragdoll—it looked like it had been discarded for a long time.
He picked it up and brushed off the dirt, his expression puzzled.
"Guest, that's probably just a toy some child no longer wants," the elder nun said as she quietly approached, smiling.
"I thought someone had tossed out their silicone girlfriend," Allen replied, casually tossing the doll aside. Then, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, he asked, "Mind if we stay the night?"
"I'm sorry, but the monastery has a strict—"
Clink clank!
A pile of gold coins clattered onto the ground. Allen said calmly, "Abbess, you dropped your coins."
"…"
The abbess stared at the dozens of shining gold coins on the ground in stunned silence.
Running a monastery required significant expenses. The church's funding and outside donations were never enough to make ends meet.
Hmm…
Allen narrowed his eyes. Seeing no response, he pulled out another handful of coins and scattered them dramatically. "Abbess, you're really scatterbrained today."
"…"
Now over a hundred gleaming coins lay at her feet, dazzling and hard to ignore.
The abbess swallowed hard.
With that kind of money, the monastery wouldn't have to worry about finances for the next five or six years.
"Still not enough?"
Allen said solemnly, "I refuse to believe there's any woman whose heart can't be won by a coin offensive."
Clink clink clank!
Another round of coin-spreading theatrics.
The abbess stood frozen, dumbfounded.
Had inflation really gotten that bad that people were throwing gold around for charity now?
"Enough!"
Just as Allen was about to scatter a fourth wave of coins, the abbess finally shouted, unable to take any more. Even her weathered heart was starting to flutter.
"You yelled at me!?" Allen widened his eyes in exaggerated hurt.
"I meant that's more than enough, child."
As she knelt to pick up the coins, the abbess added, "I'll have Veil prepare rooms for you. Stay as long as you like."
"Heh… woman, I hardly recognize you anymore," Allen quipped, flipping his hair proudly. He strutted over to the Ancient One and boasted, "Yao-mei, yet another woman has fallen for my coin-fueled charms. My deadly allure simply cannot be contained."
Agatha couldn't help chiming in, striking him down a peg: "Yeah right. How many times can you toss that same pouch of coins? Better let me hold onto them before we end up chewing bark halfway through the trip."
Yee-haw!
In the next second, Allen leapt onto Agatha's back like a mount, declaring seriously, "Never focus only on short-term returns. The key to profit is long-term investment. To make money, you first have to know how to spend it."
"Where'd you learn that nonsense?" Agatha asked, bewildered.
"The bankruptcy theory of capital."
Thus, the group settled down at Oakwood Monastery.
Originally, two other elder nuns had opposed it, but once the abbess revealed over a hundred gold coins, everyone promptly shut up and "forgot" the monastery's rules.
Back in their room, the Ancient One asked, puzzled, "Why insist on staying here? A town inn would cost less than one gold coin."
"I think this monastery's hiding something," Allen said, looking unusually serious. "Growing up in an orphanage, I've got a sixth sense for these things. Something here just doesn't sit right."