Chapter 202: One-Sided Negotiation With Olide

Sometime later, Elias and Olide sat in chairs opposite each other, with Lastbane resting on Elias’s lap after he had reclaimed the sword from the merchant.

Meanwhile, Olide stared at Greta, who stood beside him with one hand pressed against her abdomen. Her expression remained cold, although the lingering pain from Elias’s earlier attack was evident in the way she held herself.

Elias glanced between them before breaking the silence.

"So, can you tell me what the son of the master of the Honorgold Merchant Company is doing with a heretic?" he asked.

There were three great paths in the world: the Path of the Sword, the Path of Magic, and the Path of Spirit. However, although swordsmen followed the first path, countless other weapons existed, including daggers, bows, spears, and axes.

Unlike the sword, none of these weapons had a great path that people universally acknowledged, and the reason was believed to lie in their origins.

Before humans, various intelligent races had existed in the world, leaving behind their own weapons, techniques, and legacies. However, all of those races had eventually gone extinct, and humanity had inherited much of their knowledge. The sword, on the other hand, was a weapon humans had created themselves, and its practice allowed them to look inward and understand themselves.

Nevertheless, many people still sought to walk paths other than the three great ones, attempting to establish their own through weapons such as axes, bows, and daggers. Unfortunately, these paths were considered heretical because those who awakened their Aura through them began hearing whispers of madness, gradually losing their reason until they became little more than bloodthirsty killers.

The Kingdom of Jorn was consequently regarded as both heretical and barbaric, for the Path of the Sword was not even practiced there.

"She is not a heretic," Olide retorted coldly.

Elias shifted his gaze toward Greta and raised an eyebrow.

"Are you saying she would not turn into a mad killer even if she continues using that yellow Aura?" he asked.

Olide fell silent, and Greta slowly turned her head toward him, waiting for his response.

Silence stretched between them for a long while before the young merchant finally looked back at Elias. A smile filled with irony spread across his face as he questioned, "Do you think you are any better, Lord Elias?"

Elias immediately understood whom Olide was referring to, and his expression grew cold.

"Do not try me, Olide. A swordsman becoming mad is far rarer than a heretic losing their mind," he replied.

Olide slammed his palm against the table, his expression twisting with fury.

"Do not call her that!" he muttered.

Elias leaned back in his chair and studied the two of them, letting his gaze linger on Greta before he chuckled faintly.

"That depends on the reason you stole my sword," he mumbled.

Olide interlocked his fingers and lowered his eyes, his voice growing heavy as he finally began to explain.

"Since his days at the Royal Academy, my father has been part of a secret organization whose goal is to find the seven Crucible Swords, the three Sage Amulets, and the five Spirit Crowns."

"That is ridiculous," Elias muttered.

"We know," Olide acknowledged with a nod. "We already have two of them, you have one, and we know two more people who have been deemed worthy by the Crucible Swords."

Elias blinked several times as he processed the merchant’s words, then his gaze dropped toward the sword resting on his lap.

"Wait..." he muttered, running his fingers along Lastbane’s hilt before looking back at Olide. "This is one of the seven Crucible Swords?"

Olide fell silent and stared at the young nobleman, wondering how someone who seemed so ignorant of the matter had even become worthy of wielding that sword.

Greta stepped forward, her expression sharpening as she addressed Elias.

"That is precisely why I believe you are unworthy of that sword," she said.

Elias turned toward her and raised an eyebrow.

"And who are you to decide that?"

Olide sighed before gesturing toward the woman standing beside him.

"She is one of the seven Sisters from the Dark Crucible, Greta Ozymandi."

Elias’s eyes immediately brightened with curiosity and surprise, and he leaned forward slightly as a cheerful smile appeared on his face.

"Ozymandi! So you carry the blood of the last Sword Transcendent. To think his blood still lives even now... This is surprising."

Both Olide and Greta stared at him in astonishment, for most people did not know the name of the last Sword Transcendent, let alone his surname.

Elias, however, seemed more interested in the revelation than in their reaction, and he soon turned his attention back to Olide.

"Is that why you are searching for the seven swords?" he asked before frowning thoughtfully. "It is quite disappointing, though, that the blood of Ozymandi is following the Path of the Dagger."

Greta said nothing in response and simply stepped back, her expression growing difficult to read.

"So now you understand why we took the sword from you," Olide muttered as he leaned back in his chair.

Elias nodded and rubbed his chin thoughtfully, considering his thoughts before asking, "But why do you need them?"

"Have you ever been to the Holyland of Sword?" Olide asked.

"No."

Olide smiled faintly before explaining, "We believe the last Sword Transcendent hid something within the Holyland, and the seven Crucible Swords are the keys needed to find it."

"Is that why you are also searching for the Amulets and Crowns? To find what is hidden inside them?"

"Yes."

"I see." Elias nodded, and a smile gradually appeared on his face. "You know you will never obtain all seven swords, yet you continue dreaming of finding them. Is that not stupid?"

Olide lowered his head, and a self-deprecating smile tugged at his lips.

"It is..." he mumbled. "After all, one of their wielders is none other than the Crimson Duke."

"Indeed."

Elias shook his head as though pitying the young merchant, but then he straightened in his chair and fixed both Olide and Greta with a cold gaze.

"Now then, how do you intend to save your lives?"

Olide stared at him with a dumbfounded expression.

"What?"

The corners of Elias’s lips lifted into a smirk as he narrowed his eyes at the two people before him.

"You do not think that telling me about your plans and affiliations is enough for me to spare you and that woman, do you?"

Olide and Greta simply stared at the young nobleman, their jaws hanging so low that they looked as though they might touch the ground.

After a brief silence, Olide finally regained his composure and asked, "What do you want?"

"I am glad you are a smart man," Elias said with a satisfied smile before glancing around the room. "I want this hideout."

"What?" Olide exclaimed, staring at him in disbelief.

"You must already know how close I am to my uncle, do you not?" Elias asked, leaning back in his chair. "I believe this place would be the best location to put some distance between us."

Olide considered his words for a while before nodding reluctantly.

"I will allow you to stay h—"

"No." Elias raised a finger and shook his head. "You misunderstood me."

"What?"

"I am the one allowing you to stay here," Elias clarified.

Olide stared at him, unable to decide whether he should argue or simply accept the absurdity of the situation. In the end, he could only nod helplessly.

"As you say, Lord Elias," he replied.

"Good." Elias smiled in satisfaction before lifting his Lastbane and rising to his feet. "Prepare rooms for my wives and servants. We will move here tonight."

He then turned toward Greta, who was still standing beside Olide, and studied her for a moment before speaking.

"If you prove yourselves to be people I can trust, I will help you with your quest. That is the respect I can show someone who carries the blood of Ozymandi."

With that, Elias left the room, leaving Olide and Greta to exchange bewildered glances.

As he made his way out of the hideout, he encountered the two guards who had stopped him earlier. His gaze soon settled on the knight who had lost an arm, whose face remained twisted with grief as he clutched the severed limb against his chest.

Elias halted before them and studied the injured knight for a few moments before sighing.

"Give it to me," he muttered.

The other knight frowned at him, unable to understand what he meant.

"What d—"

Elias glared at him before placing a finger against his own lips.

"Shut up," he muttered.

The knight immediately fell silent, while his injured companion slowly raised his head to look at Elias. After hesitating for a moment, he eventually extended the severed arm toward the young nobleman.

A few minutes later, Elias moved through the streets of Kilmir and finally reached the manor as night fell.