Chapter 108: A Fool’s Bargain
Veyron’s mind churned, fury and disbelief wrestling within him.
They think they can fool ...? Lirael, stoic as ice, who rejected even when she had no right to resist—a slave? Ridiculous. That necklace? A collar? Hah! Such a collar would cost a fortune, low ranked nobles can’t even dream of these. And this naless goblin-slayer... this nobody... could afford it? No. He’s bluffing. Putting on a brave face to snatch a chance with her. Let’s see how far he drags this pitiful drama.
A cruel smile curled on his lips as he spoke aloud.
"Do I look like a fool to you?" His voice rang across the tavern. "You dare say that trinket is a collar? A man branded with a pathetic title like Goblin Slayer could never afford such a thing. You expect to believe this?"
The words barely left him before murmurs rippled through the room.
"Oi... The Goblin Slayer?" one adventurer whispered.
"The sa one who overshadowed the B-rankers in Velkarth?" another muttered, eyes wide.
"I thought it was just a drunk’s tale... but if it’s him, then—hell, he used aura, didn’t he? It must be true"
The whispers thickened, the weight of reputation filling the air. Veyron’s expression faltered for the briefest mont—Aura? The word clawed at his thoughts before he could chase it.
And then Ethan’s voice cut through, cold and dismissive.
"Your brain can’t even keep pace with your mouth. Dealing with idiots like you gives a headache." He turned, waving lightly toward Lirael. "Co. We’re leaving."
The shift of boots against soft soil carried their intent to the exit gateway.
But Veyron’s voice snapped like a whip.
"Chickening out already? Did I allow you to leave?"
Ethan paused mid-step. Slowly and deliberately, he turned back. His eyes, calm yet edged with a knife’s glint, locked onto Veyron.
"And since when," he asked softly, dangerously, "did I need permission from you to move?"
The space seed to freeze, tension coiling tight.
Veyron leaned back in his chair, feigning ease though his jaw ticked. He lifted a finger toward Lirael.
"You may leave, for now that is. But she stays, you see..I have sothing to talk"
Ethan’s response ca flat, absolute.
"No. Whether she stays or leaves is my say. And I don’t recall giving permission for her to remain behind."
Veyron chuckled, arrogance dripping as he smirked.
"You speak as though she’s your slave."
He was so certain, so convinced the collar was a cheap fake, a charade. After all, even he had overlooked it at first glance. To him, it was nothing more than a disguise to shield her from unwanted eyes, and protect her dignity unless so unfavourable situation ca...which happens to be now.
Ethan tilted his head, expression shifting into genuine confusion, as though staring at a creature speaking gibberish.
"Are you... slow?" His tone was laced with derision, every word a blade.
The insult struck like a slap, twisting Veyron’s face into fury. Veins rippled at his temple.
Ethan didn’t let him speak. His voice pressed harder, cold and rciless.
"Didn’t I say it clearly enough? She is my slave. Yet you sit there, deaf and blind, spouting nonsense. Now it feels like your entire being is defective."
The words landed with the weight of a hamr, each insult stripping layers of Veyron’s pride.
Veyron’s voice cracked with venom, echoing across the training field.
"You truly plan to drag this farce any longer?" he spat, lips curling. "Then prove it. Show us your contract. If it’s real, you should be able to, right? The so-called master?"
Gasps and murmurs rippled through the gathered adventurers, eager for the spectacle. All eyes shifted to Ethan.
Ethan’s gaze narrowed, the faintest crease forming at his brow. He thought for a mont, silent. To reveal the contract ant revealing its clauses—clauses far too lenient, tailored to protect Lirael’s dignity rather than bind her harshly. A dangerous thing to expose before a crowd.
His pause was enough.
Veyron’s smirk split wide. He barked out a laugh, arrogance dripping with every word.
"See! You can’t. Because there is no contract. You never bound her at all. Just acting brave to curry favor from her, aren’t you? Hahaha!"
A few of the onlookers shifted uncomfortably, unsure if his words held weight.
Ethan tilted his head slightly, eyes cold and blank. His voice was quiet, yet it carried across the field like a blade sliding free of its sheath.
"...This doesn’t sit right with ."
Veyron sneered, stepping forward.
"Excuses. Do I look like a fool?"
Ethan’s lips curled into sothing between a smirk and contempt.
"Showing the contract would an revealing the clauses that bind her to . Do you expect to do that... for nothing? Without so much as compensation?"
The words landed heavily, a strange shift in tone that made the crowd tilt their heads.
Veyron blinked, caught off guard. "..pensation?"
The word rolled in his skull, confusion creasing his brow. Then, like a spark, realization struck. He let out a short laugh, confidence surging back.
"So that’s it. You’re scrambling for an out. Using ’compensation’ as an excuse to run." He stepped closer, chin raised arrogantly. "Do you think I look as poor as you? Everyone here knows the difference between us. Fine—how about I compensate you with ten gold coins?"
Gasps echoed in the crowd. Ten gold was no small sum—it was months of pay for most of the adventurers watching.
Ethan’s expression didn’t flicker, but inwardly his thoughts sharpened, amused.
...Heh. He took the bait. We were running low on coin anyway.
In the quiet link of their minds, Lirael’s laughter bubbled, warm and unrestrained for the first ti since the confrontation began. Her emotions had settled as Ethan took control over the situation.
"You truly are sothing," she whispered ntally. "To bleed money out of this arrogant bastard in broad daylight... Don’t let it stop at ten. Make it hurt."
Ethan’s lips twitched ever so slightly—enough for those watching to mistake it for disdain rather than humor.
And with that, the trap closed tighter around Veyron’s pride.
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A/N: Shoutout to ’pro999’ for sending a gift.
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