Konrad spent an hour with the ledger, paying off merchants and organizing accounts.
The peddlers weren't stupid—dividing the brittle adamantite proved a real challenge. They argued about exchange rates the entire time, aware of the ore's true value.
In the end, he overpaid them by quite a margin, but the irony alone made it worthwhile.
The transmutation artifacts meant to imprison him now funded the Church's undoing.
This ordeal also highlighted what a natural Eyna was.
She helped him with the calculations after only a single explanation. And when it came to negotiations? He realized he could have learned a thing or two from her.
Prodigy of Haiten or not, without her help, he might have been haggling until sunrise.
Thanks to Eyna, he even had time to recharge his mana while she wrapped things up.
Knowing how insecure she could be, Konrad wanted to reward her.
"Take this ledger with you," he told her, announcing it to the merchants. "She'll lead the food caravan to the Tribal Council—treat her as you would treat me."
Eyna took the book, her face flushed and her purple eyes sparkling.
"I won't let you down, Master," she promised, bowing almost to the floor.
Sister Stella rolled her eyes at that but stayed silent.
As for Father Alastair, he had to endure a few sneers and unsolicited words from the peddlers. They were eager to rub the shift in bureaucracy in his face—the greedy bastard deserved it all.
Meanwhile, Konrad hoped Welf had avoided capture and didn't fall asleep waiting for them.
All that remained was to burn the relay station to the ground.
He felt conflicted—Haiten was his first home in this new world after all.
Destroying the building would have ruined its standing as a wealthy trading hub.
Everything he had built in eighteen years would be gone. Then again, if he didn't do something, the Inquisition would've taken over. Konrad had a good idea of what'd follow—
Once the food carts had left, he stepped to the inn's window.
"If everyone is ready—"
He summoned flames, hurling one into each corner of the building.
"Behold my power."
The station erupted in flames.
He added some illusions to enhance the spectacle, though it was complete overkill.
All those spices, oils, furs, and other valuables—for which he'd paid a fortune in compensation—were gone in a flash. Long before sunrise, the fire shone brighter than the sun ever could.
If any merchants doubted him before, the gasps and cheers told him that his plan had worked.
"Remember to act scared. And demand compensation from the Church, too," Konrad tried to silence them in vain. "As you can see, they aren't a threat to me, but I'd rather avoid a massacre."
He didn't even have to lie about that.
The fire only took a fraction of his essence—he had more mana after casting them than when he arrived at Haiten. And seeing Stella's pale face filled him with something else, too.
Satisfaction.
The next round of yelling came from the Inquisitor's grunts, rushing to put out the flames.
They might as well have prayed instead—regular water did nothing to elemental fire.
Seeing the results, the peddlers each wanted to shake hands with him.
They promised everlasting loyalty, a share of their profits, and bribes—
"Don't trade with the Church and tell the king about their misdeeds. That's all I need." Konrad couldn't turn them down fast enough. "Otherwise, the Halaima Pass will stay in their hands."
Finally, they ran out of the inn to show their terrible acting skills, wailing about their lost goods.
The boy ruffled Eyna's silvery hair, exhausted from all the talking.
"You did great. Take the remaining adamantite and trade in my name," he offered. "Whatever you think would sway the tribes to my side, or help against the Inquisitor—go for it."
The girl's face flushed even brighter, her puppy eyes widening.
"Yes, Master," her voice was pitching up. "I'll make you proud."
"What about us?" Alastair asked, the executioner still busy looking terrified from the firestorm outside. "Should we also head to this Tribal Council thing?"
Konrad scoffed at that.
"Only if you want to die. You saw my twin, and he's not a fan of the Church. I doubt he'd understand that you are no longer with them. Although—why not send Miss Stella as a gift?"
If the executioner didn't seem terrified enough, now she was trembling, too.
"W-why don't you kill me instead?" She still tried to play tough, but her stuttering didn't help.
"Not sure," the boy admitted. "Not the cold-blooded killer type. Or a fan of torture—but it feels like I owe you a payback. Oh well, you're right, you should stay with us, too."
With that, their business concluded.
Eyna surprised him with a tight hug right as he was about to sneak out of the inn, then disappeared into the darkness.
He could only blink for a while, then watch the chaos as the relay station burned.
"How long do you plan to stand there?" Welf made him jump, pointing into the distance. "I thought they caught you, your carriage is ready, 'My Lord.'
"Uh, right, sorry," he collected himself and left his home village with a heavy heart.
Once at a safe distance, he stopped to look back, getting all sentimental, watching the flames.
"You'll rebuild it even better with the tribes," the blacksmith tried to urge him. "After we got rid of the Inquisitor and his lapdogs." He grinned at the executioner, but the girl almost fainted.
Not the response Konrad expected. But he was right.
"Let's go to your father, then. We'll need the Blood Moons for this," he climbed into the carriage's comfortable seats. "I'm kind of excited to meet Lily's family."
"Hah, don't hold your breath," the redhead grinned. "She's the black sheep—or red sheep?"
Then, as he took his place as the coach, looking back at his passengers, he froze.
"W-where is it?!" his eyes widened, and Konrad was at a loss for why.
"What? Eyna? I sent her to—"
"I know that," Welf pointed at his empty bag. "The adamantite. Where did it all go?!"
"Oh, that," the boy laughed. The redhead was a blacksmith after all. "Things got more expensive than I expected, and I gave the rest to Eyna in case she had expenses—"
"And how are you going to convince my father to join you, then? Or what will he work with?!"
Konrad grinned, nodding at the flimsy bracelet on Sister Stella's wrist.
"Don't worry, I can make about five more pounds of the stuff with that."
"Please," the executioner joined in, falling to her knees. "I'll do anything if you take it off."
The boy raised an eyebrow. It hasn't been a day since he snapped it on her arm. Was it why her tongue lost its sharpness? And here he thought it was because of all the fire he had cast.
So the bracelet affected those without mana, too—and they had no way to get rid of it, either.
"How's that gonna turn into adamantite?" Welf scratched his head, skeptical. "I can tell at a glance, it's silver—and a quarter pound at best."
"Well, you sit back and watch," Konrad smirked, rolling up his sleeves. "Or, start the carriage—"