"Damn it! Damn those rich bastards!!" cursed a red-haired young woman, followed closely by two adept wizard guards.
"Y-Young Miss Ennya, please don’t curse so much. If anyone hears and recognizes you, your reputation could be tarnished. As the future Magna of Flas and Master Freyra’s successor, you sh–"
"Aihhh! Successor this, successor that! Can’t I even vent about not being able to buy what I want?!"
For the first ti since she was taken in by her master, Freyra Solbrand—the Magna of Flas before the current one—Ennya was granted two months of freedom to gain experience in the outside world.
However, she was restricted to wizard shops, the Imperial Wizard Guild, and the Solbrand Residence.
She wasn’t allowed to visit unnecessary establishnts or the Grand Magic Academy to et with her friends.
Of course, Freyra Solbrand wouldn’t allow her disciple to be assassinated by the Fellkin, so aside from the two adepts guarding her openly, a squad of Elite Wizards also followed her from the shadows, though Ennya had no idea how heavily protected she was.
She was granted permission to join an auction held at Azmarin City, as there were apparently 50 superior-grade common-tier elental staves for sale made by the disciples of Master Arcanists.
To her delight, the champion’s artifact was a Fire Elental Staff, boasting unreal boosts for a re common-tier weapon and the only mastercraft grade among all the staves.
Alas, the money she had earned from the E-ranked hunting missions she just completed wasn’t enough to win her the staff.
Ennya was ruthlessly slapped by the reality that she couldn’t contend against the rich rchants, at least not for now.
She had no choice but to leave empty-handed and resu hunting with the standard-grade common-tier Fire Elental Staff she was using.
Her cheapskate master wanted her to work for everything, saying that being spoiled rotten wouldn’t do her any good.
***
Inside a standard-sized hotel room, a black-haired young man sighed in exhaustion and gave a cross-eyed, black-furred cub a gentle rub on the head before falling onto the bed.
Hal’s victory was a dream.
However, everything that happened after was an utter nightmare.
The broadcasting station representatives assigned to cover the Manaforge Initiate Competition, the scouts, and the crazy young aspirants all sward toward him, despite the warnings from the organizers.
He was fortunately saved by the organizers and was allowed to temporarily take refuge in the appraisal tent until the madness subsided.
Unfortunately, this gave the scouts’ reinforcents ample ti to settle throughout the area.
He would have been followed if not for the understanding and extrely helpful old man, who seed to know all his troubles and was willing to go above and beyond to help him keep his identity hidden.
Perhaps the chief was all too familiar with budding talents being taken out or forced into bad contracts by the aristocracy?
In any case, Hal had nothing but respect for the old man.
The problem was that too many n working for the rich were scattered throughout Azmarin City.
Old man Buster also warned him that these desperate people had probably already taken note of his height and build and would follow anyone even remotely similar in appearance.
They had both the manpower and the finances to do it.
Apparently, the bastards would follow him and anyone who looked like him back to their cities, watching their daily movents until they pinpointed who Joker really was.
They wouldn’t stop until they found him, the old man warned.
’Aihh...what should I do, then?!’ he inwardly raged.
He had prepared himself for the worst, but unfortunately, his limited experiences didn’t allow him to anticipate the maneuvers of the affluent.
’The system...’
Yes, it should at least help increase his chances of slipping through the net.
Even if he couldn’t, it would still expand the quantity and quality of spells in his arsenal, raising his odds of making it out alive if the bastards tried to brute-force him.
Signing a shitty contract was the last thing he would do.
Fortunately, the mory of the competition’s rewards, along with a certain notification ssage, helped lift his mood a little.
[Congratulations! You’ve earned 200 points!]
It seed that stealing the first place from the young arcanist nad Altair was quite the feat, as the system wouldn’t have rewarded him with so many points otherwise.
There were also the arcane cores which he could convert to 110 more Chaos Points through the [Chaos Converter] function.
If he did so, then he would have a whopping total of 998 points.
The question was: should he do it?
’Well, why shouldn’t I?’
Once he was stronger, he could easily collect the cores himself, no?
Besides, wasn’t his true focus the Arcana Primis Cup taking place in four and a half months?
Wasn’t the whole reason he aid to earn Chaos Points in the Manaforge Initiate Competition so he could win the Arcana Primis Cup?
Hal found himself almost sidetracked by the thought of earning more money.
However, what was the point if he couldn’t protect himself and his loved ones?
He had to be strong first, then rich.
’Phew...all in due ti...’
He just had to be patient.
Snapping his fingers, Hal opened the system.
He then selected the [Chaos Converter] function, grabbed the cores one at a ti, and pressed [Convert].
[You have converted a D-ranked Arcane Core for 50 Chaos Points!]
[You have converted an E-ranked Arcane Core for 10 Chaos Points!]
[You have converted...]
A minute later, Hal had 998 points. He allotted 200 to [Common Draw], 300 to [Uncommon Draw], and the remaining to [Rare Draw].
What he needed now was a trump card, the more unexpected the better.
Cracking his fingers, Hal felt his heart begin to race with excitent.
This was the first ti he would draw with such a large number of points available to him.
He was bound to get sothing good...
’Now then, ti to begin!’
[Boohoo! No Cards Drawn!]
...
[Congratulations! You have drawn a...]
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