Chapter 277: Mithril

“Waste!”

“Haldan is waste, Amicus is waste too!”

“They’re all waste!”

In the opulent castle, Jesus slammed the letter down, roaring in furious rage, his fury surging like wildfire.

The power he had painstakingly built over years was annihilated in a single day—before he could even react.

Jesus’s heart bled.

His son-in-law, Ramsay, sighed beside him, lamenting, “I heard Amicus barely managed to break through to the Star Level at the very end—but too late. His aura and strength were spent; he couldn’t turn the tide.”

“Don’t speak!”

Jesus gasped for breath. The thought of losing a potential Star Knight—someone who should have been his—made his chest ache with unbearable grief.

“The worst of all is Corien!”

Jesus gnashed his teeth. “I gave him so many precious resources to win his loyalty—how could he be so useless? He couldn’t even hold the castle for a single day!”

At the New Year’s banquet, Corien had been publicly rebuked by Rulans. Jesus had seized that moment, showered him with lavish gifts, and persuaded him to betray the Blackmount Castle.

Now, all his efforts had vanished into thin air.

Ramsay couldn’t understand it either—how could everything collapse so suddenly, in just a few days?

Defeat may be like a mountain falling, but not this fast!

“Father, what will you do next?”

Jesus slowly calmed, sinking heavily onto the nearby sofa, his brow furrowed.

“The kingdom is now stable. My brother is still strengthening his prestige, courting marriage with Blackmount. At this moment, even if I wished to seize Shorehold, I cannot raise an army!”

The King turns a blind eye to the Polent Bandits—but if Moonvale dares to act, the implications are entirely different.

If Moonvale and Blackmount had a generations-old feud, it might be easier to justify—there’d be an excuse, a chance for later mediation.

But the worst part is: Moonvale has no ancestral grudge with Blackmount.

With Amicus dead, it’s as if he lost the iron lever that could pry open Blackmount’s domain. The blow to Jesus was devastating.

“It doesn’t matter. I’ve already backed the Polent Bandits twice. I’ll wait two years and back them a third time!”

Jesus’s eyes gleamed with malice.

A petty valley like Moonvale could never contain a royal bloodline like his. He needed vast lands.

Around him, only Blackmount offered the ideal direction for expansion. He could not abandon it lightly.

“Go to Shorehold Castle. Retrieve every last coin and treasure I bestowed upon Amicus.”

Jesus said, “I need them to hire and train more men.”

“I’ve already sent Idrisa and the others. They should return soon.”

Ramsay paused. “My lord, Brisso is still in the hands of the Noble Alliance. Should we ransom him?”

Jesus couldn’t help but tap his temple in exasperation—this was another thorn in his side.

A Golden Knight—he couldn’t afford to lose him so easily.

“Write a letter to Blackmount. Say Brisso is your brother’s wife’s uncle, and you’re willing to pay five thousand gold coins for his release. See if they’ll agree.”

Ramsay nodded.

Five thousand gold coins were certainly too little—but it was a starting point.

As long as he established this familial connection, they wouldn’t kill Brisso outright. Negotiations could follow.

…

Roning and his companions landed gracefully upon the square of Shorehold Castle atop Karllos.

Though guards and knights remained behind, their strength was negligible. Macken dispatched them effortlessly.

Chaos erupted. Servants screamed and scattered, fleeing in all directions.

Roning had no interest in chasing ordinary folk—he seized only the castle steward and ordered him to lead them to Amicus’s private storeroom.

“Lord, it’s right here!”

The middle-aged steward trembled as he pushed aside a row of shelves, revealing a hidden door.

Roning lit a magic crystal lamp, its glow illuminating the path. He gestured for the steward to walk ahead.

It was a small chamber—five men standing inside already felt cramped.

Three wooden crates sat atop planks.

Roning signaled the steward to open one.

Instantly, a dazzling golden radiance blinded them.

“Oh wow—gold coins! How many?” Elron grabbed a handful instinctively. He was desperately short on cash.

Roning smiled. “At least ten thousand.”

He was certain—because in his vision, a line of text appeared:

【“Fortune’s Favor” achievement unlocked. Attribute points +500, Energy Essence +1000】

This tier of “Fortune’s Favor” required him to acquire ten thousand gold coins at once. Clearly, the coins in this chest numbered at least that.

He glanced at his panel. The next tier required thirty thousand gold coins in a single acquisition.

There were three chests. If each held ten thousand… he could unlock two tiers consecutively.

Roning immediately ordered: “Open the other two.”

The second chest opened—again, a blinding cascade of gold. Another full chest of coins.

But when the third chest was pried open, no golden brilliance flashed. Instead, a faint silvery glow shimmered.

His dream of acquiring thirty thousand gold coins shattered.

“What is this?”

Roning stepped forward in surprise.

“I don’t know!”

The steward shook his head frantically.

Roning prodded it with his sword. The silver objects inside were as hard as iron—his blade left not a scratch.

He crouched, lifting one. It looked metallic, yet lighter than iron.

“My lord, if I may venture a guess… this is ‘Mithril,’” Riedal warned.

“Mithril?”

Roning’s eyes lit up. It was entirely possible.

Legend said this rare metal was stronger than steel, yet lighter than iron—an ideal material for crafting high-end weapons, armor, and jewelry.

It also held significant magical properties.

Though he didn’t know Mithril’s exact price, he knew one thing: it was priceless.

The value of this chest of mithril is certainly far greater than that of the other two chests of gold.

“Indeed, this mithril should be enough to forge a set of light armor.”

Roning still possessed dragon scales sufficient to craft a full suit of armor; now, with the addition of mithril, what he lacked was a master smith capable of working such rare materials.

He stowed all three chests within his ring of space, completing his tour of the cramped storeroom.

“Pity the noble alliance will be disappointed—they’ll find nothing left but empty air.”

Roning had initially intended to leave two or three thousand gold coins behind, but upon remembering the considerable wealth hidden in the small castle of Holthan and the others by the shore, he decided against it.

He would not visit those modest castles himself—let the noble alliance enjoy their modest windfall.

After all, he had already revealed his face at the Shore Fortress; to take everything would cast too dark a shadow.

Emerging from the underground vault, Roning felt an immense sense of ease.

His gaze drifted instinctively to his status panel.

His attribute points and energy essences had now reached 1,510 and 3,000 respectively—both poised for a substantial leap.

Huh~

At that moment, a ripple stirred the air.

Carlos, resting on the square below, sent Roning a message—a large bird was approaching.

Roning looked up, and there, in the distance, three dark specks hurtled swiftly across the sky.

Rydar and the others noticed as well.

“Griffins. Heh~”

Roning smiled. “I didn’t expect the folk of Moonlight Valley would actually come.” (End of Chapter)