Bolnar was left temporarily speechless as he stared with his jaw gaped at the blood arrow. The first thing that Walter did when he heard about the rarity and value of blood arrows from the clerics while they cleaned up the battlefield was to ask Johnathan if he could ‘procure’ one for himself.
Although Walter wanted to hold onto it for a bit longer, he saw no problem with selling it to Bolnar since he didn’t actually need it. After a few short moments, Bolnar seemed to have finally collected himself and stuttered out a single sentence.
“A-amazing… can I tou-”
“No. I’ll only leave it in your hands once you buy it. Once you buy all of it. You can now consider the blood arrow as part of the package if you wish. Of course, the price will have to rise accordingly.”
This time, Bolnar appeared to have regained much of his composure as he listened to Walter. Unlike before, his voice was once again clear and confident when he spoke.
“How much will it cost now?”
Walter shrugged casually as he replied.
“500 gold franqs. Take it or leave it, those are your only two options.”
“F-five hundre…”
Bolnar’s voice soon trailed off into silence when he heard Walter’s new price. He cast his gaze downwards and cupped his chin with his hands, as if he was thinking to himself. However, Walter no longer needed to draw this negotiation out longer than it needed to be. He wanted an answer now.
“Time’s ticking away Bolnar. And I’m starting to think that you don’t want it. If that’s the case then I’ll have to sell it to someone el-”
“Wait, my lord! I think…. I think that I’ll take it!”
Walter subconsciously smiled and nodded in response to Bolnar as he spoke.
“Good choice.”
With that, the negotiation finally came to a close. After receiving the 500 gold franqs, Walter and the other guards, including those of Bolnar’s, returned to the two carriages. On the way, Walter noticed that there was something ‘different’ about Johnathan but he ignored these findings.
When they did return to the carriages, the guards soon set to work in moving the crates full of goods into Bolnar’s storeroom. As they did so, Walter said his farewells to Johnathan. Now that his share of 50 gold franqs was firmly within his possession, Walter no longer saw it necessary to remain with Johnathan and his guards.
“I’ll let you three handle the transaction of the goods and I’ll let you split up your share amongst your people. Since I’m no longer needed here, it is now time for me to make my leave.”
“Wait.”
But before Walter could even turn around, he was stopped by a single word. While Walter wanted to leave as soon as possible, he did not want to risk a fight or something similar by antagonising Johnathan at this time. As such, he was forced to remain and question Johnathan’s intentions.
“Yes Johnathan?”
Johnathan first gave a quick glance at the guards carrying goods from the carriage as if to make sure that they couldn’t hear them before he spoke to Walter in a low voice.
“You lied to Bolnar… You told him that there were more blood arrows but there was only one… the one that you had.”
Walter only replied to the captain’s question with an indifferent voice.
“I told no lie. I only stated that there were many more from where we found it. I never said that we kept more than one with us.”
“...”
Seeing that Johnathan had nothing else to say, Walter made his final farewell.
“If that is all you have to say, then I’m well and truly off.”
This time, Johnathan responded to Walter’s farewell.
“Farewell, my lord Walter Faust.”
…
Elsewhere within Belmud, in the area between the commerce district and the inland river docklands, there stood a lonely but large tavern which was sandwiched between two warehouses. Unlike the two warehouses, the tavern seemed to be more ‘awake,’ with the cheerful laughter of the night patrons breaking the silence of the night-time atmosphere.
Bright lights emitted from all the windows of the first floor, while only a few windows had light coming up of them in the second and third floors. Occasionally, these lights would be blocked by the figure of a tavern patron either shuffling about or standing up to chug their drink.
And what was a tavern without a tavern maid?
With a forced smile on her face, Jane served a table full of rowdy sailors with their pints of ale. Thankfully, they were too occupied with their drinking game to pester her, she had already had her fair share of drunken men who could not control their lustful desires.
With an internal sigh of relief, Jane made her way back to the tavern’s counter. By now, she was already used to the boisterous nature of ‘tavern maid’s life.’ Her eyes had grown accustomed to the sight of vomiting men. Her ears had grown accustomed to the ceaseless shouts of cheering soldiers. Her body had grown accustomed to the-
“Hello there.”
“Oh-uh yes?”
Jane’s thoughts were soon abruptly interrupted by a polite yet confident voice. She only barely managed to make out a proper, respectful reply, causing her to feel a little bit embarrassed that such an event occurred in the first place. Usually, the loud mannerisms of the patrons who approached the counter often gave her a heads up whenever she got lost in her thoughts.
But this time, she was caught completely off guard by this sudden patron who appeared at the counter. However, her years of service has already conditioned her to quickly collect her calm. Soon enough, she was able to properly respond to the man at the counter with a friendly smile on her face.
“What would you like, my lord? A meal, a drink or a room?”
“I would like a room.”
She quickly registered the man’s appearance within her mind and realised that he was an aristocrat, thus she had to respond with the appropriate honorifics. It wasn’t rare for nobles such as him to stay at this tavern as they attended to whatever business they had in Belmud.
In terms of appearance, he looked largely similar to most other aristocats. He had well-groomed raven black hair and light fair skin. The coat that he wore was also black in colour with white outlines on the trims. Likewise, his pants and silk gloves were also black in colour.
The only article of clothing he wore that did not adhere to this colour scheme was his dark green cravat which complimented his emerald eyes. However, she also felt that his demeanor was a lot less pretentious and self-absorbed than the other nobles which Jane served at this tavern.
Nevertheless, she paid these thoughts no mind as she awaited his answer.
“I will take a room. Preferably one that is of higher quality.”
The noble’s room preference wasn’t a surprise to Jane, as the highborn of society, nobles always had enough prestige, wealth or both to afford virtually anything they want. That included a higher standard of living than commoners like her. But that didn’t matter to her. She just told him what the room will cost.
“But of course, my lord. I can guarantee to you that the rooms on the third floor will suit your tastes. They only cost five silver franqs per night.”
The noble only carelessly placed a single gold franq on the counter before he responded.
“Then I’ll stay here for twenty nights.”
A smile remained on Jane’s face as she nodded her head and took the gold franq.
“Alright, please follow me, my lord and I’ll lead you to your room.”
The noble said nothing in response and instead only nodded before he proceeded to follow her up to the third floor. It was only then did Jane realised that she forgot to ask the noble a crucial question.
“Oh and what is your name, my lord?”
The man with emerald eyes remained silent for a few seconds before he answered her question.
“Walter Faust.”
…
Walter couldn’t help heaving a sigh of relief as he stood alone in his newfound ‘home.’ After removing his cravat and gloves, he folded them up and carefully placed them away in his bedside drawer. Then he took a flat cylindrical object out of his inner coat pocket and held it in his right hand.
This golden object was actually the ‘collateral’ he lent to and received back from Johnathan. Although he was reluctant to part ways with it, he knew that he would get it back as long as he fulfilled his debt to Johnathan.
After staring at the object for a while, he opened it like a container. What came into his sight was a clock. One that was both exquisite and elegant. The continuous ticking made by its gears indicated that it’s working while its three delicate arms told Walter exactly what time it was. To his pleasant surprise, his pocket watch managed to survive his transmigration.
Satisfied with himself, Walter allowed himself to fall backwards onto his bed with his pocket watch still in his hands. For now, his livelihood was secured. After finding out from the tavern maid that an high quality edible meal would cost him one silver franq per meal, he now knew that he was able to ‘live’ in this tavern for a few years if he used up all his savings.
However, he wasn't content with wasting away as he ate the same meal over and over in the same tavern until he eventually ran out of money. He needed to properly establish himself in this world with a comfortable livelihood. That meant that he needed to find a source of income, a task which was much easier said than done.
The job prospects of this era was unsurprisingly low. Apart from jobs that were done by peasants and paupers, prestige was still a requirement for many occupations. Despite the technology and techniques of this world seeming to belong to the same era as the 16th century in Walter’s original world, the society of this half of the continent was anything but.
They still held onto 15th or even 14th century philosophies. Annoyingly, the nobles in power cared more about so-called ‘highborn noble blood’ rather than actual qualifications, a backwards notion that Walter could only detest. As to the reason why this notion managed to persist into this era despite its inherent flaws, he could only theorise.
There were only two lines of occupation where this notion that ‘blood mattered’ did not apply.
The first were military occupations, more particularly as guards for the nobility. Anyone was granted the ability to join the guards as either a town patrolman or a caravan guard escort. Those who excelled had the ability to ascend through the ranks and those who were extremely talented even had the chance to become knighted as a noble.
But Walter already crossed joining the military out as an option. He was basically useless in close quarters combat and he was not too keen to risk his second life for some snuck-up noble that he didn’t even know.
The second line of occupation did not fare better. And that was to become an adventurer. The problems that applied to joining the military also applied to becoming an adventurer. Except, instead of defending cities and caravans, they have to hunt monsters and explore dungeons. They didn’t even have the chance to become knighted.
It was truly a headache. He needed to find a source of revenue but he did not have any satisfactory options with the hand he had been dealt. This world just wasn’t doing him any favours. The rigged system prevented Walter from pursuing any worthwhile goals.
Wait.
The system.
That’s it.
Walter’s mouth curved upwards into a soft smile as an idea formulated itself within his mind. However, the day was also drawing to a close. It was time to sleep. But surprisingly, after a few hours, he found that he was unable to sleep despite his best efforts.
In the end he just laid there on his bed, spending his time thinking up his schemes as the night gradually turned into day.
