The room Malaca led me to was one I hadn't seen before, although it was only a few meters from hers. It had a rectangular shape and was dominated by a long rectangular table that could easily accommodate about twenty people. It was clear that this room was used for important meetings — probably where the guild's decisions and discussions took place.
At the head of the table, sitting with an arrogant posture, was a young man with blond hair. Behind him, standing, were five older men speaking in low tones, but they quickly fell silent when they noticed our arrival. The young man was the first to speak, completely ignoring the elders around him.
— Miss Malaca, we've been waiting for some time. Was there a problem?
The coldness in his voice bothered me. The others seemed displeased, but none dared interrupt him.
— I apologize. Your surprise visit coincided with the bard's departure to the city. I had to summon him in a hurry — Malaca replied calmly.
— So this is the famous Bard I've heard so much about? He looks far too young.
There was disdain in every word that boy spoke. The hairs on my arms stood on end, not just because of his arrogance, but because of the way he spoke to Malaca, a respected guild leader. Still, she remained composed.
— I understand your doubts. This by my side is Fly. And despite appearances, I assure you he is the best you'll find in any nearby city.
One of the men behind the boy, visibly older with a thick white beard — and an accent reminiscent of Eastern European peoples — stepped forward.
— Miss Malaca, don't take our skepticism the wrong way, but our young master has already made a deal with a highly skilled team. Honestly, I see no need to incur further costs for this boy.
Malaca, unmoved, responded:
— I imagine you've recruited the strongest from the guilds in the region. But before jumping to conclusions, I think you should take a look at this.
She pulled a parchment from her pocket, similar to those used to record adventurers' stats, and placed it on the table. With a swift motion, she slid the scroll toward the boy, but before he could reach it, Bartolomeu — the elder who had spoken earlier — intercepted it.
— As you can see, the main data is blocked — said Malaca. — However, I left visible the status acquired after Fly's song.
Bartolomeu seemed to read it with disinterest at first, but soon his eyes widened noticeably, drawing everyone's attention in the room.
Divine Phalanx – Supreme (18:58:30)
In moments of danger, summons angels that protect the user and expel evil. Any enemy below level 10 will be expelled or instantly killed.
— Bartolomeu, what does it say? Let me see! — demanded the boy, now with a gleam of excitement in his eyes, like a child asking for candy.
Reluctantly, Bartolomeu handed him the parchment, but not before asking Malaca an intriguing question:
— Is the experience generated attributed to the skill bearer... or is it lost?
It was a valid question. There were defensive abilities, like traps, that did not grant experience to the user.
— The adventurer who requested Fly's service stated she received 100% of the experience, completely bypassing party distribution.
The silence that followed was heavy with astonishment. Everyone there knew: it was impossible to forge a skill parchment. Information could be hidden, but never altered.
— Before, you had my curiosity. Now, you have my attention — said the boy with a hungry smile. — I'm willing to pay whatever it takes. But first, I need to clear up a rumor that came along with your Bard's fame.
Despite the protests of the elders around him, the boy seemed fascinated by the possibility of accessing a Supreme ability, even if through someone else.
— Sir, we are acting hastily — warned one of the elders. — We already have an extremely competent team. We don't need this boy.
The blond turned to the men, now with a hardened gaze.
— Bartolomeu... gentlemen... I think something needs to be made clear.
You work for me — and for my father.
I WANT THAT POWER.
The men accompanying the young man remained silent, visibly irritated by his comment, but said nothing — after all, he had only spoken the truth.
— I see you're a man of vision — said Malaca with a slight smile. — Shall we talk business?
She was about to sit down when the boy raised his hand, stopping her mid-motion.
— As I was saying... there's a rumor that caught my attention: your Bard, despite what he does, has no control over what will happen. Is that true?
The question seemed to unnerve Malaca for a moment. She hesitated, surprised by the level of information that boy — newly arrived in the city — already possessed.
— I suppose your father's spies are even more efficient than I expected — she muttered, trying to hide her irritation.
— How dare you! — barked Bartolomeu, now visibly furious. From inside his robe, he drew a twisted wand, like those seen in tales of magic. The atmosphere in the room grew tense.
But the boy just laughed. A loud, carefree laugh that shattered the silence with ease.
— HAHAHAHAHA! I knew the great leader of the Rhino Guild was bold, but I must admit, I'm starting to like you, Malaca. Yes, my father has eyes and ears all over the region. And your reaction only confirms the rumor is true. Now tell me... how do you expect to do business with my family if what you're offering can't be replicated? What's your plan, Miss Malaca?
That young man, who barely looked eighteen, was revealing himself to be a natural negotiator. With just a few words, he had cornered Malaca — and even I, with all my experience, felt he was playing on another level.
— What you discovered is correct — Malaca admitted, keeping her composure. — This boy at my side still can't choose the power he grants to the contractor.
A visible look of relief spread across the elders' faces. They seemed to believe they had regained the upper hand. But the relief was short-lived.
— However... — Malaca stood tall with authority. — I, Malaca Rhino, leader of the Rhino Guild, first of my name, swear that any power granted by this Bard will be of Supreme level... or higher.
A profound silence took hold of the room. The shock on the old men's faces was immediate. That promise changed everything.
— Miss Rhino — said Bartolomeu, incredulous — do you realize what you're swearing? How can you be so sure a skill of that level will be conjured? You're making too risky a bet.
It was clear that Malaca's move had shaken the balance. The group that had previously seemed in control of the negotiation now found themselves forced to respond to that boldness. The question hanging in the air was the same for all: What did Malaca know? And who, after all, was this boy?
— Very well, Miss Malaca... I like you — declared the young man, still smiling. — My father sent his best negotiators, and yet you managed to surprise them. I accept your deal for a fair price. But know this: if you lose this bet, I'll make sure to use that breach against you. Gentlemen, let's go.
He stood, and the others followed without protest. It was evident that, despite his age, his authority was unquestionable.
Before leaving, however, he stopped in front of me and extended his hand with a curious look.
— I'm looking forward to seeing what you can do.
I must admit: despite his arrogance, there was something imposing about that young man. The same presence I imagined in billionaires and great leaders I'd seen on television.
— Miss Malaca... why did you do that? — I asked, as soon as he left.
— What? Use my name? Hm... I think I like you, kid. — She gave a half-smile. — Besides, what does one of many guild leaders in a small town have to lose? In exchange... what we can gain might be simply invigorating. HAHAHA!
Her words, though spoken lightly, carried weight. For the first time, I realized that behind her rough and direct demeanor, there was strategy and cunning. Malaca wasn't a leader just because of strength — she was smart. Much more than she appeared.
— Well, kid... I made my move. Now it's up to you. We'll probably know the outcome of the negotiation tomorrow. By the way... have you stored the payment you received?
— Stored? You mean... like in a bank?
— Yes, of course. Or do you keep everything under your pillow?
His expression of disbelief was enough to make me blush. It was clear the question had been foolish, but... I had really thought that's how people stored money.
— I guess I'll need help with that... how does a bank work?
Malaca laughed at my question, amused by my ignorance, but soon realized I was serious. Her expression changed, and she took it upon herself to explain as clearly as she could.
The total I had received, including the bonus sent by Cíntia, amounted to 30 gold coins — a considerable amount, but still far from enough to stop working. According to Malaca, the bank charged a maintenance fee of 1 gold coin per cycle — in other words, per season. Since the seasons in this world were quite similar to those in mine, that would mean four coins a year. A steep price, no doubt, but understandable when you considered the risk of walking around with cash in a world where dying in an ambush or robbery was a constant, real possibility.
With a monthly cost of living estimated at 1 gold coin, I had enough to sustain myself, very carefully, for three years — not counting any unexpected expenses. It wasn't much. Barely anything.
— How much do you think we'll make this time? — I asked Malaca.
— I've dealt with a lot of arrogant nobles... and if there's one thing I've learned, it's that the more arrogant a bourgeois is, the more wealth they're hiding. If I had to bet, I'd say we'll get a lot more than we did from that noblewoman... maybe 30 or 40 coins.
That was more than all my savings combined. My first thought was realizing how much money circulated among the rich. But Malaca quickly cut off my train of thought with her usual bluntness.
— Relax, kid. If you think it's easy to squeeze money out of those bastards, you can forget it. As far as I know, the only things these rich folks pay for are rare drops or investments in their own growth. Consider this a very welcome anomaly.
Malaca's words echoed in my mind. I was living through a rare moment, almost an anomaly in this world's system. What I had achieved wasn't the rule — it was the exception. And that rich boy had only shown interest in me because of the level of the ability I provided. If I had been just an ordinary bard, he would never have bothered showing up to that meeting.
I needed to better understand my ability. And more than that, I needed to improve it.
— What are we doing here, Fly? — asked Helena, curiosity sparkling in her eyes.
She wore a rose-patterned dress she had bought from the merchant group that had arrived in town the day before. Her beauty was so striking that passersby couldn't help but turn their heads to watch her walk by.
— Malaca said the bank was here. Let's go in.
— A bank? What's that?
— It's... basically a place where you store money to keep it safe.
Before I could begin a more detailed explanation, a being appeared in front of us. He was smaller than a dwarf, but his body had incredibly harmonious proportions.
— Welcome, folks! My name is Bibo. How can I assist you?
Malaca had already told me about the city's bank, a conglomerate that extended all the way to the capital. It was run by hobbits — creatures with a fragile appearance and an extremely sociable nature. But according to her, that was just a front.
"The smaller the hobbit, the more powerful their magic. Never underestimate one. Bankers are monsters just as dangerous as the strongest adventurers. Never try anything stupid."
— Sorry, Mr. Bibo. My name is Fly, and this is Helena. We came on Malaca's recommendation, and I'd like to open an account.
— Malaca? Ah, the boss from the Rhino Tavern! I always thought she didn't know how to talk to anyone. Who would've thought she had a friend! — he said, smiling warmly. — Pardon me, I got sidetracked. Will this be a joint or individual account? Keep in mind the fees differ.
— Just for me.
— Perfect! The opening fee is 4 gold coins upfront. We also charge a fee of 1 gold coin for deposits under 10 coins. In return, we offer complete security and absolute discretion.
— No problem.
— Wonderful. Welcome to the Goldburrow Bank.
The transaction went surprisingly smoothly. Bibo handled the coins with skill and, in the blink of an eye, they vanished as if they'd been stored in a dimensional space. According to Malaca, in some cities, the presence of bankers was the only thing that saved entire populations during monster attacks. It wasn't hard to believe — bankers were, without a doubt, paid their weight in gold... and for good reason.
— Fly... I want to eat that thing we had the day before yesterday. Is that okay?
Helena's gentle smile and almost childlike curiosity filled me with warmth. She reminded me so much of my daughter. It was both a comfort and a quiet ache.
Maybe quitting drinking had made me weaker... or maybe just more human.