Arran sat in silence as Master Xu kept a suspicious eye on both him and the bag. From his expression, it almost seemed as if he feared that Arran could snatch the bag and run off at any moment.
If that was indeed what the fat man feared, he was entirely right to worry. The thought of fleeing had crossed Arran's mind more than once since the man had arrived, and the only thing that kept him from actually doing it was the certainty that he would be caught.
Perhaps, he thought, things would not be as bad as he feared. Although the bag held what would be a staggering sum of treasure to most people, to someone as wealthy as Lord Sevaril the amount should still not be outrageous.
But then, Arran also understood that Lord Sevaril's affection for Snowcloud did not extend to him. And if the man wanted to take Arran's treasures, it would be a simple matter to have Arran disappear.
Time passed slowly for Arran as he found himself torn between hope and worry, but the truth was that he simply did not know enough about Lord Sevaril to fully grasp the situation. What mattered now was the man's character, and of that, he knew nothing.
Finally, after a good half hour, the door opened once more, and Lord Sevaril stepped inside a moment later.
"Leave," he said to Master Xu. "And don't breathe a word of this to anyone."
Master Xu quickly did as he was told, and as he closed the door behind him, Lord Sevaril turned to Arran.
"It seems you possess quite the fortune. Why didn't you come to me directly?"
"I did," Arran pointed out.
"I suppose you did, after a fashion," Lord Sevaril responded as his gaze moved to the bag on the table. "I suppose I will have to see for myself what all this commotion is about."
He picked up the bag, and a moment later, his eyes went wide with surprise.
"Where did you get the food?" he asked, looking sharply at Arran. As he spoke, there was something to his eyes that made Arran uneasy — a hint of barely veiled greed.
"The food?" Arran frowned on hearing the question, with the man's desirous look only adding to his confusion. Of all his possessions, the food seemed like the least remarkable. Although there was a veritable mountain of it, the Natural Essence it contained was too weak to be of much use for mages.
"You have the resources to raise an entire army," Lord Sevaril said, giving Arran a probing stare. "Where did you get this?"
Suddenly, Arran understood the situation, and he nearly wanted to slap himself for not realizing it sooner.
He had dismissed the food as all but worthless, because the concentration of Natural Essence within it was too weak to be of use to him. But for commoners, it would be different.
With just a simple Body Refinement technique and some months of eating Panurge's food, common soldiers could be rushed through their first steps on the path to becoming Body Refiners. And after that, a bottle or two of the wine would allow them to take another leap forward.
Even if they would still be defenseless against any real mages, they would be far stronger than common soldiers or bandits. And with the ludicrous amount of food and wine the bag held, there would be enough to raise an army of thousands.
What Panurge had given him, Arran now realized, was enough to raise an army or start a clan. Yet he had no time to consider the intentions behind the gift — Lord Sevaril was waiting for an answer, and the spark of greed in his eyes had only grown stronger.
"A close friend gave it to me," Arran replied, doing his best to keep his expression confident. "Part of a small gift, to help my progression."
He recognized now that Panurge's gifts were what drew Lord Sevaril's interest, and there was no doubt in his mind that the man could easily take all he had by force. But if he believed Arran had powerful backers, perhaps he would be reluctant to risk angering them.
Fortunately, it seemed his ruse worked, because Lord Sevaril's expression grew pensive at his words.
"It seems I misjudged you," the white-haired man said in a thoughtful voice. "I believed Snowcloud took you in as an act of charity, but now, it seems I may have gotten it the wrong way around."
Arran shrugged as if he considered the matter unworthy of discussion. "So are you interested, or not?"
"I am interested," Lord Sevaril responded. "Very much so. What you offer is both valuable and timely. But I fear I cannot provide a fair price for your merchandise — the number of Essence Crystals I have at hand is limited."
Again, Arran saw a flicker of greed in Lord Sevaril's eyes, and he understood that the man had no intention of letting this prize slip away, whether he could afford it or not.
"I'm sure we can come to an arrangement," Arran replied quickly, fearing that if he took the bag off the table, Lord Sevaril might decide to take the risk of angering whatever allies he thought Arran could have.
And it wasn't a loss altogether — even if Arran got a few dozen Essence Crystals rather than the few hundred he hoped for, it would still keep him supplied for months to come.
"I'm glad you're willing to be reasonable," the man replied with a smile so oily it sent a shiver down Arran's spine. "I can offer you eighteen hundred high-quality Essence Crystals, with an item of your choice from my personal treasury to make up the difference."
For a moment, Arran was dumbfounded, and it took all the willpower he could muster just to maintain his composure. The offer was far beyond anything he had dared hope for, enough to keep him supplied with Essence Crystals for years.
Yet he knew he must hide his shock. If Lord Sevaril saw through the facade and realized that Arran had only his own power to protect him, the idea of saving nearly two thousand Essence Crystals might still prove too tempting to pass up.
He pretended to think on the matter for some seconds, and finally gave Lord Sevaril a slow nod. "That seems like a reasonable offer. I currently have little use for these goods, while I'm in great need of Essence Crystals."
The cheerful look on Lord Sevaril's face made it clear the offer was anything but reasonable, but Arran knew he wasn't in a position to bargain. Moreover, even if the other man got the better part of the deal, Arran would still receive far more than he had expected — not to mention that he would walk away with his life.
"We have a deal, then," Lord Sevaril said. Smiling, he added, "And I owe you a favor."
"No favors are needed between friends," Arran replied, giving the man a smile that was as warm as it was insincere.
Lord Sevaril nodded, clearly pleased with the outcome of the trade. "I suggest we return to the keep. It will take my men some time to unload the contents of the bag, and while they do so, you can select something from my treasury. I have several items that might catch your interest."
As they returned to the keep in Lord Sevaril's carriage, Arran quietly wondered what Panurge's intentions with the gifts had been. Had he intended for Arran to raise his own army? And if so, to what purpose?
Whatever the reason had been, Arran was certain there was more behind it than he currently understood, and he had an uneasy feeling that the day's events would have far-reaching consequences.
