Chapter 25 : The Magical Use of Valuation

“Did you appraise the castle when we arrived?”

Richard asked. 

“That little insect nest?”

Aurina scoffed.

“His full suit of iron armor—twenty-eight gold, two silver, three copper. The sword, laced with magic, twenty-four gold, six silver. The underground chambers on the west side of the castle?”

“Pricey. Six hundred thirty-two gold, six silver, total. So, are you going to fetch those coins that rightfully belong to me? No, of course not. I know you too well.” 

Richard pressed, “The entire castle—what’s its value?” 

“It’s hazy,” Aurina admitted, scratching her head, though her answer came swift as ever.

“Roughly three thousand four hundred sixty-two gold, six silver, three copper. Why? Think something so basic could stump this king?” 

“I don’t know the logic behind your appraisals,” Richard said, his boots pounding the earth as he and Aurina raced through the wilds.

“The castle was built over decades, starting as a humble earthen fort, raised by the labor of nearby villagers fulfilling their corvée. Are you calculating its market value?”

“The crystallized essence of their toil? How do you price an entire castle without seeing every item inside?” 

“What kind of foolish nonsense is that?”

Aurina retorted.

“It’s worth that much because that’s what it’s worth.” 

She rapped her knuckles against Richard’s helmet, her voice tinged with irritation.

“You’re running around like a headless beast. Don’t tell me you’re trying to dodge your tribute to this king. Where’s my feast?” 

“Hold on,” Richard said, undeterred.

“What I mean is, Black Boar Pete controls the region through his vile trade in slaves, contributing to the local infrastructure while spilling the taint of his slave contracts. That fits the codex’s description of a Tier Three evil force.” 

“What’s that? Tier Three?”

Aurina blinked, confused. 

Richard clarified, “His residence is likely the most valuable place in this region.” 

“Oh, you should’ve said so sooner!”

Aurina’s eyes lit up as a memory sparked.

“When I soared through the skies hunting for lost vaults, I used my appraisals to track them down.” 

She had once located the imperial treasury of the Yanting Empire without even knowing it belonged to their emperor—or that the Yanting Empire existed at all. 

“What did you say?”

Richard asked, catching her words.

“Soared?” 

“Er… old memories,” Aurina mumbled. 

“Ah, inherited memories.”

Richard leaped over a seven-meter-wide stream in a single bound, his voice steady.

“So that’s how the Dread Dragons always found treasuries to plunder? Legends say when vast piles of gold and precious treasures gather, they sing a song that reaches the stars and calls to the ears of the Dread Dragons.” 

“So you want to use me to find Black Boar Pete’s hoard?”

Aurina’s tone sharpened with excitement.

“Can we take his treasury?” 

“Yes,” Richard said, his voice firm yet fair.

“We split it evenly.” 

Aurina gasped, her pride as the Red Dragon King bristling.

She had never shared wealth with anyone—save for splitting food with her sister, and even that was a rare concession. 

But now… 

Her golden eyes flicked to the enchanted steel gauntlets on Richard’s hands.

“Fine,” she declared, feigning reluctance.

“This king will graciously agree.”

With a flourish, she snapped open her ledger and scribbled down Richard’s latest “transgression.” 

The town drew near, its edges sharpening in the twilight.

Richard strode forward, Aurina perched on his back, her small frame bobbing with his steps.

“How much am I worth?” he asked, half-curious, half-teasing. 

Aurina, still scribbling his crimes, didn’t look up.

“Two thousand six hundred sixty-four gold, eight silver, two copper. The priciest piece is your Fire Scale Pendant—because it holds the magic of the greatest Red Dragon King of Kings, ten-time champion of the Dread Dragons, Obsidian. That alone is worth one thousand nine hundred thirty-two gold, three silver, two copper.” 

“And the rest of my gear?” 

“Greatsword, sixty-three gold, three silver. Iron Beetle Armor, four hundred nine gold, one silver. Longsword, twenty-five gold.” 

Magic, it seemed, inflated prices like wind in a sail.

A renowned appraiser once said that a finely crafted longsword, touched by a magical artisan, could fetch the price of ten to a hundred ordinary blades—or be utterly priceless.

Yet a warrior wielding a magic longsword would still fall to three skilled swordsmen with mundane steel.

Even so, fools flung fortunes at enchanted gear. 

Richard mulled this over as they entered the town.

Passersby gawked at the great Red Dragon King of Kings, though she stood only four feet tall. 

“Why all these questions?”

Aurina grumbled, her stomach growling.

“When can we eat? Wait—my treasury!” 

Richard halted.

Aurina leaned forward, pointing to a narrow alley.

He strode in, passing a gaggle of children dozing against the walls.

They scattered, laughing, deeper into the alley’s shadows. 

Richard’s pace outstripped them.

Guided by Aurina, he stopped before a perfume shop, its sign proclaiming, “No Perfume Today.”

Beyond the glass window, a forgotten price list advertised teas masquerading as “Persian Cat Perfume,” “Forest Essence,” “Oriental Mist,” “Noble Lady,” and “Black Silk Perfume.”

Each cost a staggering eight gold—enough to buy half a cow. 

“In a town like this,” Richard mused, “who could afford such prices?With a major river nearby, outsiders come easily. This ‘perfume’ is likely a code.” 

“What?”

Aurina frowned, puzzled by his cryptic words.

“Go reclaim my gold! Tonight, I will sleep on a bed of coins!” 

A door creaked open, and a poised maid in a white dress and black stockings emerged, curtsying to Richard.

“Good sir knight, we’re closed today. Please return in a few days.” 

“How much is she worth?”

Richard asked. 

“Mind your manners, sir,” the maid replied, her tone sharp but polite. 

“My apologies, lady,” Richard said.

“I meant my companion, Aurina.” 

Aurina’s golden eyes locked onto the maid, who shivered under the dragon’s gaze.

“Everything on her, one gold,” Aurina declared.

“Total value: sixteen gold, three silver.” 

Richard understood instantly.

The extra fifteen gold and three silver was the maid’s own “price.” Why did she have a price?

She was a commodity queen commodity.

 Years ago, with his knightly order, he’d helped dismantle a gladiator school where fighters sold for five gold each.

Why was this maid worth triple that? 

The answer hit him: slave contracts.

He recalled destroying several contracts worth over a hundred gold each, to Aurina’s tearful dismay.

This maid must be bound by one. 

In a flash, Richard declared, “Step aside. I am a paladin of the God of Justice, here to enact His will.” 

He brushed past the maid, kicking open the locked door with ease. 

“You can’t enter!” the maid cried, throwing herself in his path.

“Unless you step over my corpse! Are you robbing us? Help! A paladin is robbing us!” 

Aurina sniffed the air.

“I smell the fear of the weak. Let’s tie her up and trade her for gold!” 

Richard glanced at the maid’s trembling legs.

“I know you’re bound by a slave contract, not acting of your own will. I don’t blame you, nor will I force you to trust me. But try believing in hope and justice. Step aside, lower your voice, and if you chase me, fall. You lose nothing.” 

The maid froze, then softened her voice.

“You can’t go in!” 

Richard pushed past her, striding forward. 

“Gah!”

Aurina yelped, clinging to his head to avoid a low lintel.

“Beast of burden! You nearly smashed me!” 

“Get off me, then,” Richard muttered. 

“Help! Help! The giant armored man is storming the perfume shop!” 

The maid grabbed at Richard’s belt, her strength barely enough to tug a chicken.

Other maids joined her, some hesitating, others pulling weakly. 

“No!”

Aurina’s voice boomed louder than all of them combined.

“A true dragon will not be outdone by mere insects!” 

Richard sighed, kicking open door after door.

“Which room’s the most valuable?” 

Behind him, maids stumbled and fell, one after another.

A young girl watched her seniors collapse, then plopped onto the ground in a duck-like squat.

“Oh, I fell too! The armored man is terrifying!” 

Aurina, crouching behind Richard’s helmet, pointed to a wooden cabinet lined with perfume bottles.

“Behind that wall.” 

Richard lifted the rug, revealing deep grooves in the floorboards—marks of a heavy hidden door. 

“As I thought,” he said.

Before the maids’ eyes, he raised his iron fist to smash the cabinet. 

“Wait!” the black-stockinged maid scrambled to her feet.

“Quick, remove the perfumes!

We can’t let the master’s property be ruined!” 

The maids hurriedly cleared the bottles, then collapsed again.

Richard clenched his fist.

“Stand back.” 

One punch, two, three, four—the inch-thick wood splintered and shattered under his relentless blows, shards flying like scattered leaves.

The maids, still crying, “We’ll stop you!” huddled by the door, hands over their ears as the cabinet groaned in defeat. 

In moments, Richard had carved a doorway through the wreckage.

He ducked inside the hidden passage, leaving the stunned maids amid the debris, his silhouette fading into the tunnel’s darkness. 

“Who is he?” one maid gasped.

“Is he even human?” 

“Perhaps the legendary dragon-blooded dragonslayer,” another whispered. 

“Could we… be saved?” a third dared to hope. 

“Pfft!”

Aurina’s voice echoed from the tunnel.

“That’s nothing! This king could burn through it ten, no, a hundred times faster with a single breath!”