CHAPTER 731: PRESTIGE OVER PRINCIPLE

"Get the hell out of the way, kid!"

SPLASH

The moment Adam crossed the city gates, a carriage sped past him. The wheels struck the muddy water pooled in a road cavity, causing it to rise in a brown arc, drops shooting at his stylish coat. His brows twitched, and mana burst out in a barrier. Diamond-shaped patterns glistened on its surface like scales, saving his clothes.

Just as he sighed in relief, the driver’s grumbling voice reached him—disrespectful and loud.

"These country bumpkins are all the same. I bet they’ve never seen a carriage before. That’s why they keep crossing streets without looking."

"Really?" Adam pursed his lips, his right hand aiming at the carriage. "Perhaps you almost run them over because you drive like a madman."

Yann gripped Adam’s shoulder from behind. "Don’t!"

But it was too late. A pulse of mana erupted from Adam’s hand. Vines instantly sprouted from the carriage’s polished wood. They slithered across its surface, entangling the wheels and coiling around the driver’s hands.

"W-What?!" the driver yelled as the wheels screeched to a stop. Horses halted, and the inertia did the rest. He flew over the paved road, eyes wide, as if counting every crack before crashing face-first into the pavement.

Passersby, dressed in coarse linen coats, shirts, or long dresses reminiscent of those Alina used to wear back in Belloria, surrounded the carriage, whispering about the accident or the mana they had felt.

"Hehehe." Adam heard the satisfying sound of the man’s nose breaking. He turned in the opposite direction, flinging Yann’s hand off his shoulder.

Yet, it gripped him again, forcefully this time. Before he knew it, Yann dragged him in his scramble, hissing through his teeth. "Run, you fool!"

They rounded a corner, stepping inside an alleyway, then two others before the arcanist felt safe enough.

Veins squirming on his forehead, he slammed his palm against the wall, looming over Adam. "Are you stupid? I’m asking seriously. We’re not on cultivators’ land. Everyone here is a mage. Some passerby traced your mana and were already glaring at us. So, again, are you stupid?"

Adam rolled his eyes, shrugging. "Let them glare then. The bastard almost ran me over and ruined my clothes. He’s in the wrong, not me."

"You are!" Yann exhaled heavily, then massaged his brows. "Remember? We have no Prestige, so no matter what happens, we’ll always be wrong. Wrap your mind around it—your notions of right, wrong, justice have no value here."

Adam crossed his arms over his chest, his voice growing darker. "Are you asking me, by any chance, to let any random person step on my toes without answering?"

"Yes, lad. That’s exactly what I’m asking you." Yann drank from one of the wine bottles. The sweet liquid’s magical properties and its numbing effect soothed him slightly, at least enough not to continue screaming his frustration out. "Listen, lad. You’re powerful; no one doubts it. But power alone isn’t enough in the archipelago. There are rules, enforcers, noble alliances, and underworld associations. And you know the best part? If any of them puts a bounty on your head, they will each hunt you down for the reward."

He stepped back, realising how ridiculous his posturing looked beside Adam’s raw power. But in the archipelago, power and truth rarely walked hand in hand. "So, yes. Let the fools step on your toes until we get enough capital to shut them up without risk."

Adam remained silent for a moment, his face distorted with reluctance. When did he ever let anyone do that? His memories retraced the powerhouses he had faced: Gaston, the Beast Emperor, Selene, Andras’s puppet, and even the two Dao ancestors. He had never let anyone slight him. Yet, he was to allow a mere carriage driver to insult him after nearly running him over? Unthinkable.

He clenched his jaw, a muscle in his cheek twitching. "Lead the way, then."

Yann nodded. "The docks aren’t far. We’d better check the prices first."

"No." Adam patted his coat, his icy voice cutting through the alleyway like a knife. "We get Prestige first—enough so that I won’t have to lower my head to bastards."

Yann’s eyes instantly lit up. He took another gulp from the wine, the sweet fragrance adding to his anticipation. Making money? Excellent.

Without wasting a second, he moved in front of Adam, almost running, then waved his hand. "What are you waiting for? I don’t know this particular city, but the shopping district can’t be far from the docks."

Trailing behind, Adam picked up their unfinished conversation. "Don’t mention half the profits again. Thirty percent is all you’ll get, and I’m already generous." He tilted his head, his lips curling into a smile that wasn’t a smile. "The deal expires in five seconds, and trust me, you won’t like the next one as much."

Yann twisted his lips. Thirty... was cheap compared to his knowledge, efficiency, and background. He would also carry the risks of the sales... His hand met his chin, a pensive frown creasing his brows. What if he flipped the problem? Thirty percent of one sale wasn’t enough, but if Adam produced dozens, hundreds of items... Yes. With his crafting speed, it was likely. By then, the sheer quantity would drown any doubts.

"You’re a harsh business partner, lad." A grin stretched across his face when he turned toward Adam. "I accept."

With the agreement, he led Adam through the city, crossing deserted alleys reeking of alcohol and vomit, or filled with half-broken stalls. Smelly fish and fruits, sold by merchants who almost gripped him by the collar to make him smell the products they shamelessly called fresh, assaulted Adam’s nostrils. Were they trying to poison someone? Still, not everyone could afford better.

Well, he could, so he snorted at the merchants until they were left behind, and he emerged onto the docks. They were built around the river in a circular artificial bay surrounded by stone barricades.

Small fishing ships, barely large enough to allow five men to stand side by side, moored beside larger cargoes, from which sailors unloaded heavy barrels or boxes with wind spells to commercial centers emblazoned with different images. A crowned pouch, a fish leaping over the ocean, two blades crossed over a helmet. He saw even more, but none as active as these three.