The Sword Emperor Transmigrates

Chapter 70

Even if they didn’t have enough money, they couldn’t just tear down the Aquamarine and sell its parts when a vessel was the beating heart of an expedition team.

Marianne was capable enough to fulfill solo commissions if she wanted, but she couldn’t take on any because she had to stay close to Frances.

For the past eight years, ever since Aquamarine’s tragedy, Marianne had trained without rest. She had trained with a determination that worked her through blood, sweat, and tears, but alas, she couldn’t produce mana stones or elixirs out of thin air.

But then, Leonard had pulled out a golden fruit from his pocket.

“Eat this fruit.”

“This is... a high-grade—almost the highest-grade mana fruit! I could never afford this, and neither can the lady—”

Leonard cut her off.

“I fed this fruit my own energy while I was ascending to the External Force Tier, so it won’t have much of an effect on me. But it should have major effects on someone with a different energy.”

That was the advice he had given, but Marianne still couldn’t accept it easily.

“Even if you don’t take it yourself, you can sell it to Bermuda or the Magic Tower, no? This should go for about a million gold.

“I do not have the time or energy to sell it. We can figure things out once we finish carrying out the plan. If we want to prevent Conrad from becoming suspicious without revealing my existence, this is the only way.”

Though Marianne felt as if she were taking on a burden, Leonard said that she had to take the golden fruit for Aquamarine and Frances’s sake, not for her own.

In the end, she ate it, and she immediately broke through two Tiers after staying stagnant for so long. After she reached the Eighth Degree External Force Tier, she even mastered a technique that allowed her to intimidate Conrad despite him being much stronger. And to an extent, simple intimidation was the most important part.

Pulling her from her musings, Frances explained, “An opportunist like Conrad will always avoid those who are stronger than themselves. But Conrad is actually quite cunning. Since we’re clearly weaker than him, if we had simply gone up to him with an invitation to fight, he would have very likely tried to figure out our plan and not accept the duel.”

Even before they stepped into the meeting room, Frances was already aware of everything Conrad could do to her, from taunting and demeaning her to driving her into a corner either physically or with his bloodlust. There weren’t many people who could completely hide their inner feelings after having their life threatened, but Frances was one of them.

“It made for a fine scene when I made my face pale and pretended to be scared and you stepped in between us. Of course he would be fooled,” Frances mused.

“But he’s someone who you yourself call cunning, my lady. Would he really be fooled that easily?” Marianne asked.

“Well, being cunning isn’t the same as being smart. When people who think they’re clever feel certain that they’ve read someone correctly, they become an unmatched idiot.”

People who were only somewhat intelligent never doubted their own conclusions. But if Frances had come to the meeting without a plan in mind, Conrad would not have fallen for their trap. If they had offered to hand over the Aquamarine for free rather than the opportunity to buy it, if he wasn’t intimidated by Marianne, if he ever saw Leonard and instinctively felt fear... if even a single tiny factor had raised his suspicion, they would not have been able to set up a duel.

“I win.” Frances grinned. “Marianne?”

“Yes?”

“When there’s a gamble you know you can win, what should you do?”

Marianne pondered Frances’s spontaneous question for a moment, then replied, “You should... bet money?”

“Exactly!” The captain reached into her pocket and tossed her a subspace pouch. Marianne caught it without thinking. It contained all the funds that Aquamarine had left as an expedition team. “Give this to Esther and tell her to bet it all on us. Participants aren’t allowed to bet on their own duels.”

“But isn’t betting through someone else like this also against the rules?”

“Bermuda is flexible enough with things like this. Even if they want to dispute it, they shouldn’t be able to mess with the Chief Elder’s direct apprentice.”

Considering what the public knew about Aquamarine and Santa Maria and the winning chances in a duel between Marianne and Conrade, the betting odds would be extremely disproportionate. Conrad would only have a ten percent payout at most, but ten percent was ten percent. There were few people who would skip an opportunity to make money.

No matter how obvious the outcome seemed, once they were in the ring, there would come a moment when the tides turned.

“This is an opportunity to go back to being Rank A, and it’ll also solve the financial issues we’ve been having all at once!” Frances exclaimed.

The die was cast.

***

Throughout the entire Atlantis Maritime Alliance, the place that had the most thorough security and the greatest difficulty of being infiltrated was neither Bermuda nor the Magic Tower.

It was the Council building.

It was a giant tower that shot through the clouds in the sky, and only the thirteen councilors were allowed to go in as they pleased.

Even outside of their quarterly meetings, the councilors either held conferences on the highest floor of the tower or looked down at the scene of Atlantis City laid out at their feet, basking in their superiority.

But of course, not even the Council of Atlantis was free of partisanship.

“Councilor Pablo.”

Someone’s stiff voice echoed inside the room. There wasn’t a single light in the dark space, indicating that their meeting was not an official one.

“Frances Ler von Okeanos is using the Aquamarine as bait to reel in Conrad. I think they’re betting on a duel between him and Mad Dog Marianne. Did you hear?”

“Of course.”

In the dim room, all one could make out was the outline of a large, heavyset man. His voice was as rugged as his physique. The one who’d replied was Pablo, the captain of Moby Dick. A red tint glistened in his eyes. His gaze was so domineering that most peoples’ hearts would stop if they saw it.

Pablo El Orlando Patterson. He was a powerful fighter in the Transcendence Tier and the leader of Moby Dick, one of the three strongest Rank A expedition teams.

“I was quite proud of them because they haven’t given up and are still struggling, so it’s disappointing that they’re digging their own grave,” he mused.

“Digging their own grave?”

“Indeed.” Pablo didn’t even blink. “Marianne is the only person that child truly trusts. I have no doubt that she invested all of her inheritance and the money from their commissions to raise her Tier.”

“And?”

“Marianne is certainly talented, but not so much that she could have reached the Transcendence Tier by now. At most, she is only around the Ninth Degree External Force Tier. Perhaps the Tenth if you’re being generous. However”—he paused—“Conrad is several times more talented, even though he is a scoundrel. The chances of her winning are below five percent.”

“Is Christopher Conrad truly that impressive? As far as I know, he practically lives in the entertainment district when he’s not fulfilling his job quota.”

“If he actually put in real effort instead of being so lazy, he could have already reached the Transcendence Tier.” Pablo took a sip of his glass of liquor and placed it back on the table. As if ridiculing himself, he intoned, “You can’t fix someone who’s rotten to the core. It’s a meaningless task.”

Someone interrupted him. “Are you talking about your illegitimate son? Lucciano, was it? I heard that he recently almost lost his arm for good.”

“Gordon.” Sinister bloodlust surged like a small storm.

Gordon, the man who’d insulted Pablo, observed Pablo’s rage from the darkness before snapping his fingers. It was a very simple motion, considering that it was meant for a Transcendence Tier fighter brimming with bloodlust, but Pablo couldn’t endure Gordon’s pressure for long. He was overwhelmed, making him recognize the difference in their power.

Gordon Haywood was a Class 8 Archmage; he was a Class higher than even the Magic Tower’s Towermaster. He was also the second in command of the Council. Not even Pablo had enough power to be his opponent.

“I think you’re misunderstanding something. We did not summon you here because we were concerned about the princess’s victory. The problem is that Conrad, that sewer rat, doesn’t know his place and might have an opportunity to climb up the ranks and become our equal,” Gordon said, his gaze as cold as ice. “The Aquamarine is one of the four masterpieces of Atlantis and is difficult to recreate. There’s a chance that it will fall into Conrad’s hands, so I don’t know why you keep grumbling about Aquamarine’s downfall. Even though Aquamarine has fallen, he is not worthy of such a treasure. There will always be a way to take it from him.”

“Don’t make me laugh! There’s no chance that piece of trash is unaware of the Aquamarine’s value. No matter how high of a price we offer, he won’t sell it, and he’ll even ask for a seat on the Council!”

Pablo closed his eyes, not responding to Gordon’s biting remark. In truth, he couldn’t do anything in this situation. Aquamarine was throwing a Hail Mary with their vessel on the line, and with an official contract already signed, the Council couldn’t interfere or nullify it.

Unlike the Magic Tower, the Council and Bermuda were connected, but there were still lines they couldn’t cross.

Pablo put forth his own suggestion. “There’s a way to keep Conrad in check. He should still want to look good in front of us. And he should also be aware that the Council shuns Aquamarine, so we can use that to keep him on a leash.”

Gordon looked displeased. “Keep him on a leash? Even though he’s almost reached Master status? Even if we make a soul oath, that man will never agree to give us the ship.”

“It won’t be a problem. If we use this secret drug, that is.”

Pablo reached into his pocket and pulled out a box. He opened it, revealing a black and red object resembling a marble. All the councilors showed interest, not knowing what it was.

Not even the Class 8 Archmage Gordon recognized the item. “A secret drug? I sense a subtle sinister energy.”

“When someone ingests this, their power will be boosted by several levels. If Conrad takes this, he should be able to become a Swordmaster for a very short period of time. However, he won’t actually reach that level,” Pablo explained.

“Ah, I assume there’s more.”

Pablo curled his lip into a crooked smile, confirming that the drug had side effects. “If a person who is not yet a Master uses this, they are forced to pledge their life to me once they ingest the marble and their power is enhanced. I promise to transfer his right of ownership to the Aquamarine to the Council—no, to our group. I would like to make up for my mishap in this way.”

The councilors murmured in the darkness and soon grew silent as if they had made their decision.

And of course, Gordon was the one who spoke for everyone. “I am very pleased, Pablo. With this secret drug, it will not be long before we fulfill our grand plans. Don’t you think so?”

“I will assist you as much as I can.”

“Yes, I believe you.”

The sound of the two councilors’ dark laughter marked the end of the secret meeting at the top of the tower.

It was not only the highest place in the Atlantis Maritime Alliance but also the darkest.

The Council’s hidden side cast a large shadow across the entire city.