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Chapter 303: Master of Manipulation, Herolf the Golden Goat
🕑 Added 2025-03-06 16:03:01 +0000 UTCGolden Goat Herolf felt his vision darken, almost fainting on the spot.
Suppressing the urge to crush Charlot Mecklenburg on the spot, he asked, “You lost the magical contract?”
Charlot nodded honestly, his demeanor as sincere as that of a devoted "teacher" by profession.
Golden Goat Herolf cursed his inability to use Vampiric Secret Arts to drag this despicable scoundrel out and subject him to the cruelest tortures. Restraining his anger, he said, “Do you think magical contracts grow like stones along the roadside? Where do you expect me to find another one?”
Charlot gave an embarrassed chuckle. “Then I’ll go back and look for it.”
Feigning earnestness, he prepared to leave. Herolf hurriedly stopped him, gasping as he said, “I just remembered—long ago, I acquired another copy.”
Charlot’s face lit up with surprise and delight. “Quick, give it to me!”
With a cold snort, Herolf turned away. After some time, he returned with another parchment scroll, vividly decorated and possibly made of leopard skin.
Charlot conjured a Flame Dragon’s Hand to retrieve the scroll, but Herolf pulled it back before handing it over. “You’ll have to sign it here and now. You’re not taking this one.”
Charlot quickly nodded in agreement, saying, “If I don’t sign this today, let the Serpent of Fate banish me to my homeland, never to return.”
Herolf, thinking the vow sincere, handed over the scroll. Charlot glanced at it and remarked, “Golden Goat Herolf, there’s a custom in my homeland: before signing a document, one must pay a fee called ‘ink money.’”
“How about giving me a high-grade Knight’s Lance, preferably a Vampiric Weapon?”
Herolf roared in rage. “Charlot, you’re reneging on your word! Aren’t you afraid the Serpent of Fate will banish you forever?”
Charlot smiled. “My homeland’s quite nice.”
Indeed, Earth was lovely. With his current capabilities, life on Earth would be nearly perfect—except for missing Annie Mecklenburg.
Moreover, Charlot was confident Herolf would relent. The old goat had invested so much in him already, and the principle of sunk costs would compel him to invest even more.
Herolf glared at Charlot. If looks could kill, Charlot Mecklenburg would have been riddled with a thousand wounds, dead beyond recognition. But Herolf, being a Transcendent of the Ocean System, lacked such exotic powers. His chest heaved violently with barely contained fury.
After a long silence, Herolf growled, “I have a Knight’s Lance. Wait here while I fetch it.”
When Herolf left, Charlot carefully examined the parchment in his hand. As expected, it was identical to the previous magical contract. Following the guidance of High Priest Auguslatin, Charlot discreetly altered it, transforming it into a master-servant contract.
Moments later, Herolf returned, carrying a Knight’s Lance. “This is Whale Slayer, one of Ingrima Empire’s renowned weapons. Even Count Lamorak himself sought it in vain.”
Charlot, unfamiliar with Whale Slayer, guessed it had something to do with hunting whales. Using Flame Dragon’s Hand, he seized the lance. Then, feigning dissatisfaction, he made to ask for more, provoking Herolf into a furious outburst.
“Charlot, you vile scoundrel! If you dare make another demand, our collaboration is over!”
“You’ve committed countless wicked deeds—prepare for the Serpent of Fate’s judgment!”
Charlot, unconcerned by Herolf’s accusations of immorality, judged the timing right. Smiling, he made a show of signing the contract but paused to act startled.
“Wait—why isn’t your signature on this?”
“No way. You sign first.”
With a grin, Charlot tossed the contract through the mirror.
Herolf ground his teeth so hard they nearly shattered. “That cunning thief!” he thought. “I can’t change the terms now, but the original clauses are trap enough.” Knowing Charlot would grow suspicious if he altered the terms, Herolf grudgingly signed his name and returned the contract through the mirror.
This time, Charlot didn’t hesitate. His signature flowed across the parchment like a dragon soaring through the skies.
When both signatures appeared on the contract, the parchment transformed into a streak of light, flying out of the mirror world and vanishing into the unknowable distance.
Charlot watched the parchment disappear, hearing faint laughter laced with an unmistakable joy.
The laughter reverberated through his soul, sharpening his instincts. Startled, Charlot silently prayed:
“Oh, Master of the Fate Court, who traverses the River of Time and comprehends all mysteries, do You enjoy this spectacle? If so, I promise to provide more entertainment.”
Charlot could only guess what deities like this might enjoy. Most likely, it wasn’t blood sacrifices or treasure—humans had only amusement to offer gods.
A youthful voice echoed faintly, “I will remember you.”
Cold sweat poured down Charlot’s face as his mind went numb.
To be noticed by the Serpent of Fate... What a terrifying honor.
If given a choice, Charlot would never have wanted any deity to take note of him.
Meanwhile, Herolf, ecstatic, shouted, “Cunning Charlot Mecklenburg, you’ve finally fallen for it! You probably didn’t notice my contract’s clause: the agreement must be witnessed under the same sky.”
“Manipulating words—I, Herolf, am an unrivaled master.”
“Now, join me under the same sky!”
Herolf picked up the mirror, crashing through floors and ceilings until he burst into the open air. Charlot, feeling his body grow lighter, found himself expelled from the mirror world.
Herolf grabbed Charlot’s wrist with a triumphant sneer. “I left out one vital clause: the contracting parties are forbidden from killing each other.”
“Now do you understand what true brilliance looks like?”
“After all your analysis, you still missed these traps.”
Charlot wore a pained expression. “I really didn’t see them.”
Herolf laughed wildly. “Let me teach you a universal truth: Greed is humanity’s greatest enemy.”
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