Chapter 73 - 27: [God of Wealth, God of Love, and Super Little Sun]

Chapter 73: Chapter 27: [God of Wealth, God of Love, and Super Little Sun]

"Huh?" Samael stared blankly.

"If you grew horns, sleeping would be very inconvenient," he finally said, after pondering it seriously for a moment.

"Then... then what kind looks better?" Talia asked hesitantly. "What kind... do you like?"

"I like Havier Armor and the Black Knight Halberd," Samael blurted out instinctively.

"...What is that?"

"They’re super powerful pieces of game equipment from Dark Souls 1."

Silence.

The two looked at each other. Talia had half-risen from the bed, propping up her upper body with one elbow. Her other hand was half-bent, hovering toward the handle of her hammer spear, caught in a posture as if she wanted to jump up and hit him but was hesitating. Her mouth was slightly parted, and she glared at him with dark circles under her lifeless eyes, looking as if she had something to say but couldn’t bring herself to spit it out.

"Got it," she suddenly said coldly, rolling over to turn her back to Samael.

"Did I do something wrong again?" Samael wondered.

The last time Talia was this unhappy, it seemed to be because he had mistakenly used the scanner on her. Judging from the enemies he had encountered so far, using Identification Magic on a living person would be noticed, giving the target an offensive feeling of being spied upon.

TAP, TAP. The sound of footsteps coming up the stairs suddenly echoed from the corridor outside. A moment later, there was a light rap on the room’s door.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK.

"Cultivator Samo, Cultivator Talan, I’ve brought the payment for this mission," Randall’s voice rang out from outside.

Talia sat up at once, grabbed the helmet beside her, and slapped it back onto her head.

The two exchanged a glance. Samael nodded and quickly opened the door.

Randall stood outside, gripping two large coin purses. A sword-shaped object wrapped in rags hung from his waist. For some reason, he looked a bit exhausted, yet also somewhat dejected.

"I just finished handling the sale of the spoils and the payment for the mission at the Alliance Hall. This is your share," Randall greeted them, struggling to hand over the heavy purses.

Samael took the purses and paused slightly. The weight was staggeringly heavy; it was clearly a large amount.

"Our team was able to return safely all thanks to you two Cultivators." As if seeing through Samael’s thoughts, Randall took the initiative to explain. "For each Cultivator, that’s 2,500 Ederic Gold Coins."

"That’s simply too much! Wasn’t the total mission payment only a little over five thousand?" Samael replied instinctively, wanting to open his own purse and decline a portion of it.

"No, no, you both deserve this. In fact, you deserve more, but we are limited by the mission’s payout," Randall insisted. "Cultivator Samo, you truly are too kind, but there’s no need to worry about us. This mission was special. The volume of spoils was massive, especially the provisions, which sold for three thousand three hundred. The bandits’ assorted gear sold for over one thousand, and that Bandit Leader Warrior had a bounty of one thousand gold coins on his head, which also counts toward the mission payout. The grand total adds up to a full ten thousand. We still have a substantial amount left for our own shares—in fact, it’s several hundred more than what we usually get from small or medium-sized surface missions. Please accept this with peace of mind."

"Oh, oh, I see," Samael realized. The amount of captured provisions was enormous, and they had been sold to Norman Passat at double the price, fetching over three thousand in total—a real unexpected windfall. It sounded like everyone was quite happy with the outcome.

"There are still some other matters to attend to within the team, so I’ll be going now..." Randall nodded respectfully, turned, and walked away briskly, looking somewhat weighed down by his thoughts.

Samael watched his figure disappear at the top of the stairs at the end of the corridor. He then slowly turned back into the room and closed the door behind him.

"Is he gone?" Talia asked.

Samael nodded, only to see Talia toss her helmet aside again. She let out a huff and lay down with her back to him.

"What is she still upset about? Shouldn’t she be happy that we got the money?" Samael was completely baffled.

He originally wanted to cough dryly a couple of times to attract Talia’s attention, but then realized he didn’t seem to have a throat. After hesitating for a moment, he finally tiptoed carefully around the edge of the bed to the side Talia was facing and placed the large purse full of gold coins in front of her.

Talia let out another huff, rolled over, and turned her back to Samael once again. This huff was different from the cruel, disdainful scoffs she usually made when crushing her enemies. It carried a touch of awkward softness, like the chirp of a baby bird.

Samael had never heard it before, and he actually found it quite novel.

"Uh... so, the mission payout. We each got 2,500 Ederic Gold Coins, making 5,000 in total." Samael walked around the bed again to face her. "If we want to traverse the Empire and enter the Ancient Battlefield of the Dead Spirit Plain in the center of the continent, how much money will we need?"

"...About three or four hundred," Talia said, avoiding the gaze coming from beneath his helmet. "We can hire a long-distance carriage within the borders of the Ederic Empire. Even if we encounter an unscrupulous driver, it shouldn’t cost more than eight hundred at most."

"How are we going to spend all this extra money?" Samael asked, holding the heavy purse.

"I don’t know. Human wealth has no meaning to us. Do whatever," Talia said casually. She rolled over to put her back to Samael again and let out a soft huff, sounding like the gentle chirp of a baby bird.

Samael pondered this.

"I’m... going out to buy some things. Do you want to come along... Do you want to eat dinner?" He lifted the purse of gold coins, poured out two-thirds of it, and tied the bag around his waist. "Is the food from that small tavern last time okay?"

"I’m not hungry. Suit yourself," the figure of Talia lying on her side replied, sounding as if she were sulking.

Samael threw on his worn cloak, closed the door behind him, and headed out.