Black Hearted Mage

Atop the towering walls of Saint Laurent City, a white flag of surrender slowly rose. The defenders had already withdrawn their fortifications, and all the heavy defense equipment had been removed. Only the massive magic steel gate slowly opened with the dull thud of its hinges, like a weary sigh.

Rows of transport vehicles loaded with magic steel weapons rolled out of the city gates. The weapons, gleaming with a faint blue sheen, were neatly stacked, like a dark footnote marking the end of this war. All this silently announced: Emperor Saint Laurent had decided to surrender.

Even more surprising was Vivian's new order. Its leniency caught even Caesars, who knew her well, off guard. She declared that all residents of Saint Laurent City would be pardoned if they could prove through a Power Word test that they had no intention of rebellion. Even the once-high-ranking royal family and nobles were exempted from the death penalty. After issuing the order, she promptly handed over command to the spy chief and Old Quinn.

Looking at the Valkyrie in leather armor and looking so heroic, Caesars couldn't help but lower his voice and ask, "Madam, why have you suddenly become so tolerant? Are you even refusing to execute the royal family and those great nobles?"

Vivian turned, her gaze seemingly piercing the city walls, gazing at the distant horizon. Her tone was calm yet distant, "I'm simply completing the mission assigned by my teacher. Besides, we're about to leave Roland Continent. The future here—whether war reignites or peace arrives—is no longer our concern."

"Ms. Vivian, do you need to return to Fire Maple City?" Caesars asked in a low voice, with some concern in his eyes.

Vivian was silent for a moment, a barely perceptible gloom flashing across her eyes. She shook her head, "No need. There's nothing left there except my mother's grave—and she rests where I once slept."

"In that case, ma'am, you might as well head to Violet City for a while to rest up," Caesars suggested, packing the heavy supplies in his bag. "I need to go to Fire Maple City myself to exchange the gold coins and spoils I've obtained for magic crystals. You know, if we don't take care of it soon, once we reach the Demon Realm, these treasures that are invaluable in Roland Continent will become completely useless."

His adventures in the Saint Laurent Empire yielded rich rewards. Every gold coin and every treasure embodied the unique energy and craftsmanship of this continent. However, the laws of the two realms diverged greatly. Once the boundary was crossed, these mundane treasures would lose all their magical power, becoming nothing more than ordinary stones.

Vivian suddenly raised her head, as if remembering something, a bright glint in her eyes. "In that case, I'll go with you to Fire Maple City." Her tone became lighter. "I want to prepare some more Barton black tea—the teacher likes the taste. If I don't bring enough now, I'm afraid... I'll never be able to taste it again."

Barton Black Tea had always belonged to Vivian, along with the ancient territory that nurtured the tea trees. It had originally been a fiefdom passed down through generations of her family. However, after she fell into a long sleep, the Roland Empire reclaimed the land and distributed it among other nobles. The former fragrance and glory were then lost to the dust of time.

Caesars nodded slightly, then whispered the incantation of a teleportation spell. Arcane energy surged like a tide, gathering and flowing in his hands. A portal shimmering with purple light gradually took shape in the air, its light shimmering like a breath of another world.

Without hesitation, the Imperial Valkyrie stepped into the portal first, her leather armor gleaming with a chilling light amidst the magical radiance. Caesars followed closely behind, his steps steady and composed. The last of the group was the burly, fat dog.

This dog was no ordinary dog; it was incredibly intelligent. It had heard Caesars' words clearly—gold coins were about to become worthless. As it wagged its tail, it was already calculating: it had to spend all its gold coins in Fire Maple City before leaving for the Demon Realm. It would fill every inch of its storage ring with the most expensive food: ham, cheese, candied nuts, smoked sausages... nothing less.

As soon as she stepped out of the portal, Vivian headed towards the palace without hesitation. For her, the search for the renowned Barton black tea naturally began in the palace treasury—where the finest tribute-grade teas of all time were stored.

Meanwhile, Caesars headed straight for the central square of the imperial capital. As he walked, he used his magic communication stone to send out messages, calling on interested buyers, especially those representatives from the northern trading houses known for their "stupidity and wealth"—these people were known for their generosity, and were exactly what he wanted.

Turning around, Caesars shouted at the fat dog, "Bread, stop dawdling and take out all those junk you have! They're not worth collecting at all. Don't play dumb with Master Caesars. I know you have quite a few good things hidden away!"

Hearing this, the fat dog didn't hesitate, pouring out all his collection. In an instant, a small mountain of miscellaneous items piled up on the ground: a priest's silk bonnet, metal-bound prayer books commonly used by paladins, several bronze statues with suspicious bite marks on their surfaces... and even two heavy marble sarcophagi.

When Caesars saw the sarcophagus, his eyes widened and he couldn't help but sneer, "Bread, you even collect sarcophagi? You have really bad taste!"

This time, Caesars brought so much that he simply forgot to use the animal hide mat—it wouldn't have been able to fit everything, and it would have taken up too much space. His diverse collection was piled up in a chaotic manner, forming three or four small mountains. This was only a small part of what he brought with him, and his true wealth was far from being revealed.

The most eye-catching things were the iconic relics of the Church of Saint Laurent in front of his sofa: two nearly five-meter-high golden crosses stood on the left and right, shining brightly; two papal crowns inlaid with pearls and gems lay quietly on the velvet; two scepters, one long and one short, were intertwined with gold patterns and topped with huge red gems; and in the center, there was a golden coffin inlaid with various gems, the coffin lid was finely carved with the faces of angels and saints, shining so brightly under the light that it was almost impossible to open your eyes.

The first to be drawn in were the mercenaries setting up stalls around the main square. They gathered around, their eyes fixed on the scene. Caesars's stalls were so ostentatious, resplendent with gold and jewels, that they made the rusted weapons and old, blackened leather goods on their stalls look like scrap metal.

"That's Pope Saint Laurent's tiara!"

A sharp-eyed mercenary suddenly pointed at the gleaming golden crown and exclaimed, his voice instantly piercing the clamor of the square. Like a pebble dropped into a lake, the cry stirred even greater waves in the crowd. Curious onlookers gathered from all sides, pointing and whispering. The already bustling square suddenly became even more tumultuous, practically boiling over.

"What are you arguing about! Be quiet and don't push!"

Caesars's voice boomed over the clamor of the crowd, his tone carrying a hint of boasting and unquestionable authority. "Those who know the goods will take a good look! These are not imitations, but genuine relics left behind by two generations of popes. Each one represents the corruption of the church!"

He became more and more excited as he spoke, as if the crowd's reaction had aroused his desire to show off: "You guys' commotion has reminded me that I still have a lot of good stuff to show off!"

As he spoke, he took out one jaw-dropping treasure after another from the storage ring, as if by magic: several gorgeous papal robes carefully embroidered with gold thread, shining brightly in the sun; several luxurious ceremonial swords with scabbards inlaid with gems and hilts carved from ivory and gold; finally, he carefully took out two heavy huge gold rings engraved with the emblem of Saint Laurent - those were the rings of power that symbolized the supreme authority of the Pope.

The appearance of each new treasure drew uncontrollable exclamations and admiration from the onlookers.

"My God... how many gold coins must this be worth!" a bearded old mercenary muttered to himself, subconsciously touching the worn purse at his waist. His young companion beside him opened his mouth wide, his eyes almost glued to the ruby-encrusted longsword.

The crowd grew larger and larger, practically encircling Caesar's booth. Exclamations, discussions, and uncontrollable murmurs of admiration echoed one after another. The commotion even alerted the square's patrols. Two knights in silver armor and blue capes pushed through the crowd, their expressions quickly shifting from initial impatience to shock and anger.

"Everyone who's watching, please spread out and keep your distance!" the leading city guard shouted sternly, his hand already on the hilt of his sword.

Caesars just leaned lazily on the sofa, crossed his legs, and picked up a ring of power to play with it on his fingertips.

"Lord Caesar, there are too many people here. Do you need us to help you maintain order?" The captain of the patrol team squeezed forward and asked respectfully, his hand always on the hilt of the sword, vigilantly scanning the turbulent crowd around him.

Caesars didn't even lift his eyelids, but simply nodded casually. His tone was calm, yet it carried undeniable financial strength: "Okay. Keep an eye on these things for me, and don't let any shady guys get close. As long as nothing is missing, I'll give you ten gold coins each."

This sentence was like a command, instantly igniting the fighting spirit of the entire patrol team.

"Sir, rest assured!" The captain's back straightened instantly, his voice so loud that it almost drowned out the noise at the scene. "Our City Guard's prison has been very empty recently, and we're worried about no one to move in! Anyone who dares to make any moves will be able to fill our empty cells!"

The magical power of the gold coin suddenly altered the expressions of every patrolman. Their previously relaxed, routine gazes instantly became as sharp as hawks, like birds of prey spotting their prey. They dispersed swiftly and professionally, forming a vigilant human wall. Their cold, menacing gazes swept across every face, every hand that might reach out, like a physical presence. The atmosphere in the entire area suddenly became solemn and tense.

"Make way, make way! I want to go in and buy something!"

Suddenly, a hoarse shout erupted from the outskirts of the crowd, its tone urgent and unyielding. Fat Dog turned his head, his mouth wide open, revealing his sharp white teeth. His eyes narrowed to slits as he slowly paced toward the source of the sound. Wherever he passed, the crowd, as if being pushed aside by invisible hands, became panicked and unconsciously retreated to the sides.

At that moment, Caesars stood up. His eyes flashed, and he quickly used his body to block the goods in front of him, ensuring their safety. Then, he quickly formed a simple yet effective hand seal with his right hand and whispered a few incantations. A gray, circular shockwave erupted from his palm, spreading outward like a ripple, pushing the nearest crowd back and causing them to stumble. "Those not buying anything, step back five steps!" His voice was low, but it carried undeniable authority. While the shockwave spell didn't hurt, it clearly marked a boundary.

The crowd involuntarily retreated, clearing a wide path. An elderly noble, seemingly in his sixties or seventies, trotted forward. He wore a dark, gold-embroidered robe, his silver hair meticulously combed. Despite his age, his demeanor exuded undeniable dignity. He calmly removed a pair of gold-rimmed spectacles and put them on. Behind the lenses, his eyes, sharp and focused, carefully examined the piles of glittering treasures before him.

After a brief inspection, he selected two sets of silver-white paladin armor and matching longswords. The armor was engraved with sacred runes, shimmering faintly even in the dim light. The hilts of the swords were inlaid with gemstones, clearly of exceptional quality. After inquiring about the price, the old nobleman nodded quietly without comment. He then pulled a velvet pouch from his bosom and poured out fifty high-grade magic crystals, placing them on the table. The magic crystals shimmered with pure blue light, each one imbued with powerful energy, drawing a low murmur of admiration from those around him.

Then, he raised his head, cast his gaze on the most dazzling robe, and asked in a steady voice, "What is the price of the Pope's robe?"

Kaisas answered without hesitation: "Ordinary robes cost one thousand magic crystals, and golden robes require five thousand magic crystals!"

Gasps echoed from the crowd. A single high-grade magic crystal was worth eighty gold coins, and the golden robe was worth a staggering four hundred thousand gold coins—enough to buy a castle and a vast territory. However, for Caesars, time was running out. With only five or six days left, he was forced to hastily sell these priceless treasures at such a low price.

"I do have quite a bit of gold coins, but I really can't muster that many magic crystals right now!"

The old noble sighed, his tone tinged with regret and helplessness. He stroked the few high-level magic crystals he hadn't yet retrieved, his eyes revealing a genuine desire for the golden robe.

Caesars maintained a calm smile and explained softly, "You are right, but the circumstances of this transaction are special. I cannot accept gold coins. When I sent a message to the House of Nobles, I clearly stated that I would only accept magic crystals. I hope you will understand."

His voice was gentle but firm, and he had obviously anticipated this situation.