1609. Master Lu

Seth gave the dagger an appraising look. It wasn't the worst dagger he had seen, making it one of the better weapons he had seen on the Voracious Cloud Continent so far. He gave an appreciative nod as a greeting and swept his hand over the counter.

With a clatter, one of the swords looted from the Silk River Sect landed on the counter after it was released from the inventory. The movement made it look like it came from a storage ring. It was a heavy broadsword, one of the mass-produced metal planks showing the sect's crest on the hilt.

Master Lu’s filing tool froze. He lowered the dagger, his one good eye locking onto the weapon. His one good eye fixated on the sword that had just fallen on his counter. A common blade, but of higher quality than those found on the market on average.

He reached out with a scarred, soot-stained hand, lifting the sword to inspect the craftsmanship. He ran a thumb over the crest, his expression turning deeply serious. He recognized the crest on the sword.

"This is the standard blade issued to inner disciples of the Silk River Sect," Lu murmured, dropping his voice to a low rasp. He looked up, his sharp eyes scanning the couple. "The sect was completely wiped out in the Great Cleansing. Did you guys manage to rob the ruins or something? Walking around with this could be quite dangerous," he mumbled, inspecting the weapon.

"Good thing, we aren't planning on walking around with it," Fin said jokingly, stepping up beside her husband. Her tone was relaxed and entirely casual.

"We are looking to liquidate some... inventory. We want to sell weapons like this, and we are looking for someone with the ability to scrub his origin before they distribute them," the bard added, pointing at the sword and crest. Lu turned the sword over, holding it close to the violet flame of his quenching hearth.

"The Silk River Sect didn't just engrave their metal; they used spiritual arrays to bind the crest into the core matrix. To scrub this and resell it without fracturing the structure takes a shadow artificer who knows how to bleed the magic out first. You came to the right place, but buying hot sect iron is a massive gamble. The risk dictates the price," the old artificer said, talking business.

"Of course," the blacksmith replied, his voice calm but firm. "Which is why I want to see if your skill matches your reputation before we negotiate a bulk price. Strip that crest right now. If the work is sloppy, we'll find another buyer,” he said entirely businesslike.

Lu grunted, a flicker of professional pride cutting through his caution. "Fair enough."

He stepped back to his hearth, using a pair of heavy iron tongs to hold the blade over the special violet fire. Seth was quite interested in what kind of fire it was, but he didn't want to ask.

The trio watched in silence as Lu deftly manipulated the heat, using a precise etching tool and a specialized chemical wash to slowly dissolve the spiritual binding of the crest. Although all three watched, only Seth had an inkling of what he was actually doing. To really understand it, they would have needed Rún, though.

Lu worked with methodical, practiced ease, grinding down the metal with a whisper-quiet file until the smooth surface of the metal was entirely seamless. Within ten minutes, the Silk River Sect's mark was gone, replaced by the clean, unblemished finish of a standard mercenary sword. Lu wiped the blade down and placed it back on the counter, looking at them expectantly.

Readers can find the author's chapter on the NovelPhoenix site and support their work there; this text was copied without consent.

"Clean. No core damage. I could sell a clean piece of weaponry like this to a caravan captain for a solid price. But a single sword isn't worth the headache of getting caught by the city guards," he explained confidently.

The blacksmith looked at the modified blade, appraising it, then met the blacksmith's eye. A faint, knowing smile touched his lips. Any connection to the Silk River sect had actually vanished from the description; even the system acknowledged the man's work by not even mentioning him in the flavor text.

"Good. Because we aren't selling a single sword," the bard said, amused. He waved his hand; a portal to Legion's space opened. Prepared by the golem, a pile of swords collapsed from inside, pouring out onto the floor of the shop.

With a heavy, metallic rumble, a massive, towering stack of identical broadswords and weapons of similar nature and quality buried the floor. Every single one bore the crest of the Silk River Sect. These were all the common weapons looted from the ruins.

Master Lu stumbled backward, his blind eye widening in absolute shock, his jaw agape, as he stared at the mountain of illegal wealth sitting in his shop. He scrambled forward, slamming the heavy iron locking bar across the front door to seal them inside.

"By the heavens..." Lu hissed, his hands trembling as he gripped the edge of the counter. "This isn't just a handful of weapons. This is an entire armory!"

"Eh, not really," the bard commented, knowing the full extent of what could have been in the sect. By his estimation, this was not even a third. "Anyway, we want to sell the entire lot to you, right here, right now. You buy it all at a wholesale discount, take the time to scrub the emblems yourself, and keep one hundred percent of the profit when you flip them to the caravans and traders. We get cash, you get a lifetime's worth of premium weapons to profit off of, and we part ways."

Lu stared at the mountain of steel, his mind racing as his greed wrestled with the sheer terror of what he was looking at. Buying this much contraband up front... Did he even have enough cash to buy it all? He had a hidden spirit stone stash... If it wasn't enough, should he borrow some?

The profit margins of selling refurbished, high-grade sect weapons to desperate mercenaries on the caravans were astronomical. The debt would be paid instantly; he would be a wealthy man by morning.

"I will need some time to bring up the money to buy a lot this massive," Lu muttered, rubbing his scarred jaw as he calculated the numbers. "I would offer you sixty percent of its standard market value... I'm taking all the risk of storing, refurbishing, and moving this much illegal iron under the noses of the Merchant Council."

The trio shared a look with each other, giving satisfied nods. This was exactly what they wanted, getting it off their hands in one go. However-

"Seventy percent," Seth countered. Just because this was what they wanted didn't mean he wouldn't haggle. Lu stared into Seth's unyielding eyes, feeling the faint, terrifying aura he couldn't quite explain. The blacksmith swallowed, then extended a soot-stained, calloused hand over the blades.

"Seventy percent," Lu agreed, his voice tight but filled with sudden excitement. “ But I will need some time to work through this, tally everything, and come up with the money,” the artificer added.

“That's understandable; don't worry about it. In exchange, please sign this,” the blacksmith said with a smile. With a poof of smoke and flames, a scroll of parchment appeared in his hands- a soul contract.

“What is that?” Master Lu asked, shrinking back a little at the sudden display of magic.

“A contract that finalizes our deal and makes sure everyone fulfills their side of the bargain faithfully,” the demonic scald explained with an even bigger smile.

By his rough estimation, this pile of junk- this pile of treasures was worth around 20 000 medium-grade spirit stones. 70% of that were 14 000. He wasn't going to leave that much stuff in the hands of a stranger without taking his soul as collateral.

The old man squinted at the contract, reading over the demonic runes that made sense to every reader, despite being unreadable. He finally, grimly, pricked his thumb and signed with a bloody fingerprint.

He had clearly read that he was putting his soul up for collateral, but the draw of quick money was too big. After all, this deal also meant a whopping 6000 medium-grade spirit stones for just a couple of days of work.