When Vince asked where I got enough Essence Stones to fund a literal small army, I didn’t lie.
I told him exactly what I told Michael.
I killed the High Priest and looted his treasure room.
Vince blinked as he slowly leaned back against the sofa across from me, pouring himself another drink before passing one in my direction.
“Wow, M’lord. You might actually be smarter than I gave you credit for.” He swirled the amber liquid in his glass. “So, you want to launder your assets. Make those Essence Stones look legally acquired so no one raises suspicion when you suddenly break through your Soul Rank in just a few weeks.”
I lifted the glass to my lips. “Yeah. Pretty much.”
Vince nodded. “That’s easy.”
“…It is?”
“Of course. Laundering is the easy part. I know some people. Casino owners, debt collectors, investment bankers — the kind of folks who excel at making things disappear and reappear looking all nice and legal. I can move the Essence Stones through multiple hands until they come out looking clean. Hell, if we play our cards right, we could even turn a profit while doing it.”
I narrowed my eyes. “That fast?”
Vince gave me a self-assured smirk. “Please. This is what I do. Give me a week, and those shiny little rocks of yours will be as spotless as a saint’s conscience. Maybe cleaner.”
I took another sip. “And your cut?”
Vince exhaled dramatically like my question physically hurt him. “Oh, you wound me, M’lord. To think that I — your most humble and devoted servant — would exploit this opportunity for my own gain.”
I gave him a flat look.
He laughed, dropping the act. “Alright, fine. Twenty-five percent.”
I scoffed. “Ten.”
Vince rolled his eyes. “Twenty.”
“Fifteen.”
He clicked his tongue. “Fine. Fifteen it is. You drive a hard bargain, M’lord.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Whatever you say, M’lord.” He grinned cheekily, raising his glass in a mock toast. “By the way, that fifteen percent is just my cut. I’ll have to pay off the others involved. That’ll cost you… let’s say, five percent more. Give or take.”
This bastard.
I knew damn well he’d skim something for himself off that extra ten percent. But I let it slide. I expected as much.
Twenty percent was a small price to pay for someone like Vince.
He was good at what he did. And if I wanted to move freely without drawing suspicion, I needed him.
Vince gestured at the mountain of Essence Stones. “You said there’s about six thousand of them, right?”
“Yeah,” I confirmed.
“Alright. You can take a small amount with you now and start cultivating if you like. I’ll handle the rest.”
I smirked and raised my glass. “Pleasure doing business with you.”
Vince chuckled, clinking his glass against mine. “Same… M’lord.”
I shot him a deadpan stare, then set down my glass and rose to my feet. “Alright, I should get going. But before that, I have one last task for you.”
Vince arched a brow. “Don’t tell me you’re about to pull out more Essence Stones.”
“No, nothing like that,” I laughed. ” I want you to stage a scuffle. Make two people — one commoner, one noble — fight each other. Pay them, blackmail them, I don’t care how. Just do it.”
Vince frowned.
His mouth opened, probably to ask for details, but I stepped forward and placed a hand on his shoulder.
“Oh, and you’ll do this without asking questions… and without charging me a single Credit.”
Vince stiffened. “…And why’s that?”
I smirked. “Because I know you’re the one spreading all sorts of rumors about me.”
A beat of silence. Then—
The color drained from Vince’s face as he coughed awkwardly. “Ahem. W-Well—”
“I’ll send you the time and location when I want it to happen,” I said.
Vince swallowed, then flashed a dazzling, utterly insincere smile. “Of course, M’lord! Consider it done!”
I walked off with a satisfied grin.
This is why I liked this guy. He knew when to kneel and when not to…
Kinda reminded me of myself — if he were more handsome and intellectually superior.
Heh.
•••
“You did what?!”
A loud shrilling scream resounded throughout the room, almost clawing out my eardrum.
I flinched, then looked up.
I was currently in the Cadet Council’s room. Those not part of the Council were usually summoned here to get reprimanded.
Before me was a large round table, the kind that screamed ‘authority,’ ‘judgment,’ and ‘we’re not mad, just disappointed.’
At the head of it sat Vereshia Morrigan, the Cadet Council President.
And right now, she looked as dreadfully angry as a queen who had personally executed her last three advisors for incompetence.
Her bright red eyes locked onto me, seething with the weight of a thousand unsaid profanities.
I wasn’t exaggerating.
She actually seemed like she wanted to hurl every insult known to mankind at me — probably invent a few new ones too.
The only thing holding her back was sheer noble decorum.
A high-born maiden of her status couldn’t exactly start swearing in front of so many witnesses. It would be so unladylike.
I leaned back in my chair, rubbing my ear. “Was screaming like that necessary?”
Vereshia visibly started counting reasons for why she couldn’t strangle a fellow Cadet. “You. Set. Your sister’s room. On fire.”
“In my defense,” I began, raising a finger, “it was mostly Thalia’s fault.”
“Mostly?” she hissed.
“Seventy-thirty split, give or take,” I admitted. “Look, you know how it is between siblings, Lady Morrigan. She insulted me, called me a failure, things escalated, and I merely set her designer clothes on fire. I was well within my rights to avenge my honor.”
Vereshia pinched the bridge of her nose. “The fire you started spread and destroyed more than half of the west wing! More than half, Samael! It caused an evacuation!”
“You know what?! You have no proof I did any of what you claimed I did! You’re wrongfully accusing me!” I stood up and slammed my hands on the table.
Every other Cadets Council member looked at me in a mix of absolute horror and disbelief.
Vereshia almost lost her mind and screamed again, “You just admitted you set her clothes on fire! Just now!”
I paused…
Then sat back down.
Damn, she caught me.
“You’re smart,” I nodded to myself.
“Shut up!”
“Yes, ma’am.”
A long, suffering sigh escaped her lips.
She turned to the side, where a few other Cadet Council members sat, looking thoroughly confused as to why they had to be here for this.
One of them, a tired-looking guy with glasses, flipped through some papers with all the enthusiasm of a man stuck in a corporate job he couldn’t resign from.
“Uh, so according to security footage and the investigation conducted by our Council members—” He squinted. “—we have solid evidence that Michael Godswill and Lord Samael broke into Lady Thalia, Prince Willem, and Princess Alice’s apartment and… set it all on fire.”
I winced. “Okay, again! I did not set the entire apartment on fire. Just some of her clothes. And I did it in the bathroom! I don’t even know how the fire spread! There’s water in the bathroom! Why didn’t the fire extinguish on its own?”
“That’s not how it works, you fucking moron!” Vereshia finally snapped, abandoning all pretense of noble etiquettes.
Then her fiery gaze slid to the boy sitting beside me.
It was Michael.
He was hunched over in his chair, looking at the floor with trembling eyes, hands clenched on his knees, face pale and clammy in terror.
He looked like a man waiting for his turn at the guillotine.
I was half expecting him to start whispering his last prayer.
Vereshia narrowed her eyes at Michael, her fingers tapping impatiently against the table.
“And what about you?” she demanded. “Why are you involved in this?”
Michael flinched as if she’d just accused him of high treason. His mouth opened and closed a few times, but no words came out.
I helpfully leaned over and whispered, “Breathe, buddy. You’re turning blue.”
He sucked in a deep breath, his voice shaking. “I—I didn’t do anything! I was just—! I tried to stop him! I swear!”
I gasped, clutching my chest in mock betrayal. “Michael, how could you? I thought we were in this together!”
“We were never in this together!” he practically wailed, gripping his hair. “You said, ‘Hey, Michael, wanna help me get in my room?’ And then five minutes later, we were committing arson!”
I frowned. “Now, hold on. That makes it sound like I planned to commit arson. Which, I must remind everyone, was not the case. I only did it after Thalia provoked me.”
Vereshia rubbed her temples, looking dangerously close to just killing me off and calling it a day.
I leaned forward. “So, what’s the verdict? Suspension? Stripping me of my title as the Ace? Forced community service? Please say no to that last one. I have terrible people skills.”
Her eyes flashed. “Oh, you’re not getting out of this so easily.”
That sounded ominous.
“You have two options. One, you formally apologize to every single person affected by your little revenge show.”
I tilted my head. “Define formally.”
“A full report admitting fault, handwritten apology letters, and a public speech in front of the entire First-year Cadet batch.”
I stared. “You want me to commit character assassination on myself?”
“Option two,” she continued, ignoring me, “you personally fund and oversee the repairs to the rooms damaged by the fire.”
I frowned. “That sounds very close to community service.”
“It is.”
I leaned back, weighing my options. Public humiliation or manual labor. An impossible choice, really.
“Can I get a third option?” I asked. “One that involves neither my dignity nor my time?”
Vereshia smiled. It was not a kind smile. “Oh, you will pay for this, Lord Samael. One way or another.”
I sighed theatrically. “Fine. I’ll take option two. But only because I have bad handwriting.”
She crossed her arms. “And?”
“And because I have a tiny shred of responsibility.”
“And?”
I grumped, “And because you scare me.”
She smirked. “Good choice.”
Then she turned to Michael. “As for you, you’re suspended indefinitely.”
Michael opened his mouth to protest, but I cut in first.
“Alright, jokes aside, you can’t punish him, Lady Vereshia. The poor guy was manipulated by me,” I said, placing a dramatic hand over my heart. “It’s all my fault.”
Vereshia stared at me blankly. “I don’t fucking care. Do you realize what you two have done? You messed with actual royals! Direct heirs of the Central Monarch, Seraphina the Flame Queen! We are in Her Majesty’s domain! In her Safe-Zone! And you two fools decided it’d be a great idea to burn down her children’s belongings?”
I shrugged. “Technically, we’re not in her Safe-Zone. We’re above it. You know, since we’re on a floating island.”
Vereshia didn’t respond. She just looked at me the way one looks at a cockroach they’re too tired to kill.
I sighed. “Alright, fine. But still, you can’t punish Michael.”
“Of course I can!” she snapped. “We haven’t yet told anyone who was behind this, so we need a scapegoat. We can’t suspend you since you’re the Ace, and because of your… regrettably useful contributions to your last mission. So, we need someone else to blame.”
I gasped, turning to Michael. “So you’re punishing him just because he’s a peasant? Because he’s a nobody? A man so insignificant, history itself would struggle to recall his name?”
Michael shot me a flat look. “Yeah, I don’t think she said any of that.”
Vereshia exhaled through her nose. “Regardless. Thalia, Willem, and Alice already suspect you were behind this incident. They’re pressuring us to find the culprit, and once they confirm it’s you, they’ll push for your suspension. We can’t let that happen since it’d be a PR nightmare for the Academy.”
“What if I get them to drop it?” I asked.
Vereshia gave me a look. “And how exactly do you plan to do that?”
I shrugged again. “You tell Thalia to back off in exchange for a title match. She and her friends can fight me for the first-year Ace position.”
Vereshia raised an eyebrow. “You’d put your Ace title on the line for your friend?”
Michael and I both shouted in unison:
“He’s not my friend.”
“He’s not my friend.”
Vereshia blinked, then wisely moved on. “And why do you think your sister will agree?”
“Because,” I scoffed, “that was her motive from the start.”
Vereshia ran a hand through her silver hair, thinking.
After a long pause, she agreed. “Fine. It’s better if we don’t have to suspend either of you since you both are in Top Ten of your batch. But if it doesn’t work, Michael will have to take the fall for your actions.”
“And I’ll try to live with that.” I stood up cheerfully.
Michael looked at me, aghast. “Wait, what?!”
“Okay, time to go,” I said, already heading for the door.
Michael glanced nervously at Vereshia before scrambling after me.
But just as we reached the exit—
“Wait.”
I turned back. “Yes?”
Vereshia steepled her fingers, turning serious now. “The fights between noble and commoner factions in the first-year are getting worse. Our Disciplinary Committee had to physically restrain a few Cadets in their dorm last night before things got bloody.”
She gave me a pointed look. “Last time we spoke, you said you’d handle it.”
I sighed. “I did say that, didn’t I?”
“Yes,” she deadpanned. “So handle it before things get out of hand, causing some serious irreversible damage.”