Paul Avery’s smile faded, replaced by the cautious and shrewd expression of a businessman.
He leaned forward slightly, lowering his voice. "Lord Hornes, I respect your family, but so things shouldn’t be said.
The granting and passing of titles are the foundation of the kingdom, decided by the king and the parliant.
How can sothing like this be traded between individuals? If this gets out, it’ll be a disaster for both of us."
Bruno had expected this reaction.
He stayed calm, pulling out an old-looking parchnt from his pocket.
"What is this?" Paul frowned, not understanding.
Bruno said quietly, "A contract. Once signed, both of us can get what we want."
Paul shook his head and laughed coldly. "Lord Hornes, I don’t an any harm, but I think you might need to see a doctor."
That’s crazy.
Do you really think a contract is enough? Do you think the king and parliant are nothing?
"Avery, I know the kingdom’s laws. What I’m talking about isn’t an official transfer of a title," Bruno said, his voice having a strange, tempting quality.
He slowly unrolled the blank parchnt. "It’s more like an experience, a taste of ’fa and wealth.’ For one month, you, Paul Avery, can use the title ’Sir Avery.’
You can be invited to so unofficial noble salons and feel the honor you’ve longed for.
Of course, it’s not a real hereditary title, but it will let you see the door to that world. You can take a look, then decide."
Paul swallowed hard. The temptation was too strong.
After all, it was just a month. He had nothing to lose.
You see.
The Avery family was a total upstart. They had a desperate need for identity. What he needed most now was a ticket to the upper class.
And Bruno gave it to him. So even if the offer seed ridiculous and impossible, Paul was willing to take a chance.
"How can that be done?" Paul stared at the seemingly ordinary parchnt, his confusion deepening.
Bruno smiled. "Leave it to ."
He took out a quill and wrote on the parchnt. This ti, the words stayed clearly on the parchnt.
The terms of the contract were as follows:
[Party One: Bruno Hornes
Party Two: Paul Avery
Transaction: Party One grants Party Two the right to use the title "Sir Avery" for one month.
Price: Party Two pays Party One one thousand Anlaine gold coins.
Duration: Imdiate effect, lasting one month.
Rules: Everything can be given, everything must be repaid. Both parties agree, the contract is signed, and no one can refuse.]
Paul’s eyes widened in disbelief as he watched this supernatural event.
His mind told him this was strange and he should be careful, but his desire for a title, his need for identity, was like a snake biting into his heart.
He really could try.
Bruno acted mysterious, his voice solemn, like a priest reciting a prayer: "Sign your na, press your handprint. The contract is made."
For so strange reason, Paul Avery stretched out his thick finger and pressed it firmly onto the spot marked "Party Two" on the parchnt.
A bright light flared up, then quickly faded and went dark.
The words on the parchnt slowly disappeared, and it turned back into an old, blank scroll.
The contract was complete!
Bruno felt a surge of joy and put the contract back into his pocket-aning, back into his mind.
Paul, as if guided by a god, went back to his room, took out two 500-coin receipts from the Royal Gold Exchange, and handed them to Bruno.
"Thank you, Mr. Hornes," Paul no longer called Bruno "Baron," because the title now belonged to him.
Bruno bowed slightly and said, "Congratulations, Sir Avery."
At the mont the deal was done, all his mories of being a Baron completely vanished from his mind, replaced by a new mory that Paul Avery was the Baron.
Leaving the Avery estate, Bruno felt the coupons in his hand were heavy. At the sa ti, a clear ssage ca from the contract in his mind:
The next use had to wait a month. It needed ti to "recover," or to gather the energy for the next trick.
Back at ho.
Bruno suddenly beca rich.
Even after paying back 500 coins, he still had 500 coins left.
Fabian was excited. "Master, we finally have money. Maybe we can start tidying up the vineyard?"
"Vineyard?" Bruno murmured to himself, "It doesn’t make sense to grow crops. I couldn’t before because I had no talent. Now I do, so I have to focus on training. In this world, only when your fists are strong enough can you really live well."
Talent?
Fabian stayed silent.
Master, even the old master said your talent was worse than a dog’s.
Bruno’s lack of talent was one of the reasons the Hornes family had fallen.
No matter what, if the master has made up his mind to train, they had to support him completely. No other choice.
Bruno went into the training room and studied two thods.
The Celestial ditation and the Third Basic Breathing thod of Anlaine.
The process was to use the mind to move the spiritual energy to the third eye, ditate to break through the Celestial Light and the rising dawn, while adjusting the breath to use the basic breathing thod to guide the blood and energy through the body.
The ditation went smoothly. The Celestial Light shone on the third eye, and Bruno faintly sensed the "Enchantnt Elent." But the breathing thod, as expected, failed.
The ditation technique relied on insight, but it could also be learned through hard work. Bruno had been learning Celestial ditation since he was six, and after ten years, he finally got the basics down. He could now ditate and see the third eye, and feel the presence of the Enchantnt Elent.
But that’s not enough. You need the breathing techniques to work with it, to move the energy in your body and bring the Enchantnt Elent into your body, sending it regularly to every part of your body.
The problem is here.
The breathing techniques require bone structure, which is talent. If your talent is too weak, no matter how much you practice, you can’t move the energy in your body, and you can’t even take in or move the Enchantnt Elent.
For the next two days,
Bruno trained hard, but got nothing.
His talent was too weak. He couldn’t move the energy in his body to carry the Enchantnt Elent, so he couldn’t produce any Arcane Power.
Bruno sat cross-legged in the training room and sighed deeply.
That day,
A sudden voice woke Bruno up.
"Bruno, co out. Don’t hide."
Bruno opened his eyes and muttered, "Monitz ca?"
He walked out of the training room and into the castle hall. Monitz was unusually arrogant, his face muscles twitching.
"Hey, I thought you, the poor guy, had run away," Monitz laughed, full of mockery.
Bruno’s eyes moved. His title had been "sold" to Paul, but the effect was on everyone. Now, Monitz didn’t even rember that Bruno used to be the Baron of Hornes.
Monitz held out his hand and said in disgust, "Where’s the money? I don’t know what the boss was thinking, lending money to this loser."
Without the title protecting him, Monitz showed no sha in looking down on Bruno.
Bruno found it funny and gave Fabian a look.
Fabian, full of anger, handed Monitz a 500-coin receipt.
"Hey," Monitz was about to take the receipt, but Fabian moved his hand, and the big guy grabbed nothing.
The big guy frowned, "What’s this an?"
Fabian said, "Show the debt note."
Monitz’s eyes moved, and he pulled out the debt note and handed it to the old butler.
"Here, everything is settled," Fabian handed over the receipt.
Monitz snorted, "You guys are smart." Before leaving, he looked around the Hornes family castle. It was true that even a dead cal was bigger than a horse. This cold, empty castle could still squeeze out 500 coins. Not bad, not bad.
This matter was settled.
Bruno went back into the training room and trained hard again.
The ditation technique wasn’t working well.
The breathing techniques were stuck, and physical training took ti.
That day, Bruno opened his eyes, feeling a bit annoyed.
At that mont, Fabian knocked on the training room door and shouted, "Master, the target has been found. His lifelong wish is to learn the basics of Celestial ditation."
Bruno stood up and opened the door, saying, "Take there."
After a month, the contract was finally usable again.
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