Chapter 7

Yuma took a deep breath to steady himself after running down the mountain.

“I nearly died the moment I arrived in the capital. The First Princess never forgets the smallest things. I’ll have to pay a visit to Adeline Woods someday. The relationship between the First Princess and Varis isn’t something I should worry about right now.”

Adeline Woods was also one of the key figures needed for the Dragon-Horse War.

She became a disciple of the dragon and played a pivotal role in the war.

No one had expected that it would be a mage from House Woods, not House Fobian, who would become the dragon’s disciple.

All Yuma wanted was to catch a glimpse of Hella Roze from afar—but all he got was more trouble. The mercy shown by Jischka Roze had been nothing short of a miracle.

To settle the matter with Mero, Yuma planned to visit Puang—the merchant.

To commoners, he was a money demon. To nobles, a filthy profiteer.

Thanks to his keen business instincts and strict adherence to principles, Puang had grown his wealth steadily and regularly offered tribute to the Imperial Household.

Yuma intended to strike a deal with him.

“He’s probably not a high-level merchant yet. Around this time, Puang was running a mid-sized trading company.”

The walk from Yuma’s current location to Puang’s firm took about thirty minutes.

Yuma had a proposition Puang couldn’t refuse. After all, money was the quickest and easiest way for a commoner to get close to power.

He needed to reach a position where he could manipulate money first.

At the entrance of Puang’s trading house stood two mercenaries. Yuma approached them with a firm cough.

“I’d like to see Mr. Puang,” he said.

The mercenaries looked him up and down, judging his shabby clothes.

“Mr. Puang? Kid, don’t mess around. You’ll get hurt.”

“Tell him I’m here on business,” Yuma replied calmly.

“I said don’t mess around, kid.”

The mercenaries lowered their voices threateningly. Yuma shrugged, as if he had no choice.

“I must look like a beggar because I’m dressed for training, but I used to serve as a bodyguard for House Woods, you know? I don’t understand why lowly gatekeepers think they can talk back to me.”

As he spoke, he channeled Sword Aura into the cloth-wrapped sword on his back. The mercenaries immediately ran to report to Puang.

Yuma couldn’t help but wonder if he had a natural talent for crime.

It hadn’t even been a full week since his regression, yet he had already racked up quite the list: blasphemy, attempted murder of a knight, evasion, illegal entry into the Imperial City, impersonation…

And yet, strangely, he felt invigorated.

“A boy in shabby clothes claims to use Sword Aura and says he used to be a bodyguard for House Woods, and that he has business to discuss?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Have you ever seen a boy that young use Sword Aura?”

“No, sir.”

“Heard of one?”

“Also no, sir.”

“Bring him in. Immediately.”

The moment he heard the story, Puang caught the scent of a lucrative deal. He fixed his hair and adjusted his vest before receiving Yuma.

With confidence, Yuma faced Puang.

“My apologies. It seems my guards failed to recognize a man of importance and acted rudely. Thank you for coming. I’m Puang, a humble merchant.”

“I’m Yuma. Thank you for your hospitality.”

“Someone, bring tea and fruit for our guest.”

It had been a long time since Yuma had heard anyone speak so politely to him.

When the servant brought out carefully sliced fruit and fine tea, Puang carefully observed Yuma as he drank.

No slurping, no carelessness. He gently cooled the tea and appreciated the aroma. There was a noble grace hidden beneath his ragged appearance.

“So, what business brings you here, Mr. Yuma?”

“I’d appreciate some privacy.”

Puang clapped twice, and the nearby servants all withdrew.

“Moments like this make me feel like a noble myself. Business is busy, so I have to rely on cues like these.”

“I understand. I’ll be direct. Your main business these days is trade with the East, correct? On the surface, high-end furniture and luxury goods seem like your biggest profits—but the real money’s in the secretly imported Mana Crystals. You get them from the Kingdom of Helga and the Haseo Nation. Am I wrong?”

“…!”

A short statement, yet if it ever reached the capital’s ears, Puang’s entire enterprise could go up in flames overnight.

“You process the smuggled Mana Crystals into pills and sell them to nobles on the black market—or you pass the raw stones to researchers at the Mage Academy, using orphan handlers from your decentralized network. Right?”

Puang stiffened, shaking his head.

He had never imagined his operations had leaked this thoroughly. He couldn’t even guess where the information had come from.

And for good reason—Puang kept his trade secrets airtight.

Choosing his words carefully, he responded:

“Wow… House Woods must have taken quite an interest in a humble merchant like me. For a retired bodyguard to know all this—it’s frightening. Mr. Yuma, are you sure you weren’t part of some Imperial special unit? I’ve heard rumors such units exist.”

Yuma chuckled and shook his head.

“No way. In truth, I was never a bodyguard for House Woods either. Just a commoner who happens to know how to wield a sword. I apologize for the deception. But if I hadn’t said that, I figured I’d have to fight through your guards to get in.”

Knowing Puang’s principles, Yuma casually confessed to his bluff.

Puang was a man who kept every detail of his negotiations absolutely confidential.

“Hah… So the Sword Aura was real?”

“Of course.”

Yuma channeled a faint blue aura into the fork beside the fruit plate. Infusing a small object like that was far more difficult than with a sword.

“I’ll help you make a fortune. Let’s make a deal.”

“Phew. Mind if I smoke?”

Even after Yuma revealed he was a commoner, Puang still treated him with respect. When Yuma nodded, he lit a pipe.

“So, what do you want?”

“I nearly killed Knight Mero. I suspect a wanted order is coming soon. I’d like to ask you to pay off some nobles to sweep it under the rug.”

It was so brazen that even Puang, a seasoned merchant, was speechless.

“…Attempted murder of a knight by a commoner isn’t something money alone can fix.”

“Mero is also a commoner. And he’s so useless, even the Knight Order treats him like dead weight. I know of some elders in the Order who are in desperate need of cash.”

“Fine. Let’s say I buy them off and get the charges dropped. Where did you get your information about my company? Who are you really? You’re clearly not just some average commoner. And what do I get in return?”

Puang narrowed his eyes sharply.

“I can’t tell you the source. Not that you’d believe me if I did. But I guarantee the reward will satisfy you. I plan to give you the recipe for crafting Mana Crystals.”

“Hahaha!”

Puang had been researching the production of Mana Crystals for five years. The Empire’s Mage Academy had flatly declared it “impossible,” yet he had never stopped.

Now, he found himself unable to make sense of the boy sitting across from him. He knew too many of the trading firm’s secrets—far too accurately—for Puang to dismiss him as just another scammer.

“Mr. Yuma, are you sure no one put you up to this? The recipe for Mana Crystal production—it’s absurd. Are you really saying you’ll give it to me just to cover up your charges?”

“I swear. I came here on my own, of my own free will. Would you like to hear the method for making Mana Crystals?”

After a moment’s thought, Puang opened a drawer and took out a sheet of enchanted paper and a pen imbued with mana.

“Let’s hear it. How long should I write the term for?” Puang asked solemnly.

“A year and a half until the first harvest. Please specify that as the term.”

Even Puang only had one copy of a magic contract. He never imagined he’d use it for something like this.

Though infused with magic, the contract didn’t curse anyone upon violation. Dark curses were banned forms of black magic.

Instead, those who broke the contract would receive a magical brand across their forehead.

A brand that lasted ten years. It signaled to every mage across the continent that the bearer could be used as a test subject—for ten whole years.

“That paper must be expensive.”

“But it makes the deal more secure, doesn’t it? Please, sign.”

Yuma signed in elegant cursive. Puang noted the noble grace in his handwriting.

“Very well. I’ll tell you now—the secret to producing Mana Crystals.”

“Would you mind writing it down?”

“There’s no need. It’s incredibly simple. Grind the Mana Crystal into powder and spread it in a field like you’re planting crops. Use the blood of monsters or animals as fertilizer. Human blood works too, but I don’t recommend it. As long as you feed it blood regularly, it’ll grow just fine. Though it’s only about half as effective as real Mana Crystals.”

“…What?”

Mana Crystals were incredibly rare and under heavy regulation. No one had ever thought to grind them into powder and use them like seeds.

“Even with all the magic zones in the Kingdom of Helga and the Haseo Nation, didn’t it ever seem strange that they were selling Mana Crystals to mere merchants?”

“If this method really works…”

“As long as you maintain strict secrecy, it’ll be fine. Rent land in foreign territories, grow them there, and smuggle them in like contraband. That should paint the right picture.”

“Hah…”

That it was this simple—it left his head spinning. Puang took a deep drag from his pipe.

“It’s like a dragon is playing a trick on me.”

“The first harvest takes about a year. And if you harvest more than three times from the same land, you’ll need to let it rest for at least five years. You’ll also need one Arch Mage to manage the field. If you just dump blood on it without supervision, the Mana Crystals might explode. A regular mage won’t be able to handle that.”

In truth, the method Yuma described was something Puang would eventually discover on his own years later—during a deal with the Kingdom of Helga.

Cornered by the Kail Empire’s invasion, the Helga royal family had offered that secret in exchange for bribes to keep their noble status.

Thanks to the monopoly on Mana Crystal production, Puang’s firm would rise into a top-tier trading giant, and the Helga royals would survive. That was how the original timeline had unfolded.

“Even if I asked how you knew, you wouldn’t tell me, would you? I’ve never made such a reckless deal in my life. Are you absolutely sure this method works?”

“I’ll tell you more over time. Mr. Puang, you and I will be working together a lot moving forward. I’ve got more ideas beyond the Mana Crystal business.”

Puang looked at the boy, who was barely past adolescence.

He seemed like someone sent to test him—or perhaps a devil in disguise.

An enigma who knew far too much for his age or status.

Puang took a long puff from his pipe.

What he didn’t know was this: before long, the true power behind his firm would no longer be himself—but Yuma.

“It’s hard to tell whether this is a toast or a poison chalice.”

“But here’s one thing that’s certain: If you hadn’t agreed to this deal, Mr. Puang, I would’ve gone to a different trading house. And at that one, I’d have laid out all my cards. If they treated me with even the slightest respect, I might’ve enjoyed some tea while sharing all your secrets instead.”

Yuma said with a sip of tea.

“Is this how you begin all your business deals? With blackmail?”

“Blackmail? Not at all. Just a friendly heads-up—whether it’s wine or poison, the cup must be lifted.”

“Haaah…”

“But don’t worry too much. I’ll make you rich beyond belief. The Puang Trading Firm will soon become the most powerful in the entire Empire.”