The entire imperial palace was in an uproar when the news of Marquis Grieg’s death was delivered along with the return of the Third Knights.

The story of his death was cleverly twisted and spread by Cantares. The content was as follows:

The knights, ordered to arrest the corrupt Marquis Grieg, pursued him and discovered the mine he had hidden.

The story went that the Marquis, who lost everything, committed suicide in the mine out of frustration.

The materials the Crown Prince had collected so far were enough to prove the Marquis’s corruption. All of Marquis Grieg’s property was confiscated, and all the nobles associated with him were also put in handcuffs.

After the purge, the nobles’ biggest concern was who would manage the magic stone mine in the future.

That question was soon resolved. The manager of the East Safe was replaced, and just two days later, Neumann led his men into the mine.

Although some expressed dissatisfaction with the appointment, the prevailing opinion was that there was no more appropriate choice.

Neumann’s resignation from his position as vault manager was tantamount to a complete severance of ties with the East Top.

All this happened in one week.

Because of this, Cantares, who had been so busy without having even a moment to breathe, was unable to sleep properly for a while. It was strange that Arendt, whom he had met only a few days ago, said these words:

“You look pretty healthy.”

“What the heck, you little brat?”

For a moment, Cantares opened his eyes in anger, but Arendt was not the type to care about such things.

“Honestly, I’ve felt a bit guilty lately. While everyone else is struggling to take care of the aftermath, who could just sit back and do nothing?”

“You really…”

“But it wasn’t so bad. It felt like a happy break.”

“Yeah, thanks to who? This son of a bitch.”

Cantares, who had been glancing at Arendt, soon sighed deeply and sank completely into his chair. His handsome face became rough from lack of sleep for several days.

Jereon came over and brought a cup of tea for both him and Arendt.

“You both worked hard. Who would have thought things would turn out like this?”

“I was the one who suffered.”

“I was the one who went through the trouble.”

When such responses came out from Cantares and Arendt at the same time, Jereon smiled awkwardly.

“So… about Count Stadler? Is he in the mine today?”

“I think it will be like that for the time being. He said that because of the barrier, we can’t take the magic book out.”

Arendt obediently followed the conversation that Jereon tried to change.

“That’s why they had no choice but to leave it behind when they ran away. They said they first studied the barrier and copied the book.”

“The Count’s food, clothing, and shelter will be taken care of by store manager Neumann. It’s fortunate that he’s so quick-witted.”

Cantares also added his words.

“Count Stadler also agreed to analyze the golem fragments that were there.”

“How did you get around this to the Imperial Magician Group?”

“It worked because of the magic stone research. I put a few pieces of magic stone in his pocket and the old man became quiet. I plan to announce the contents of the magic book slowly.”

After finishing speaking, Cantares changed the subject.

“Was there any information about that strange man that appeared in the mine who commanded golems? I thought that the alchemists who made golems died out a long time ago.”

The golems that were occasionally discovered in the wilderness were mostly those that occurred naturally or escaped from ancient tombs where they were placed to prevent grave robbery.

Even those were now almost extinct.

They were not produced separately, and it was difficult for naturally occurring ones to be born, and they were so weak that they were easily destroyed by attacks from wild animals or strong winds and rain.

Jereon continued, “The fragments of the golems were analyzed, and they seem to have been made very recently. It was also said that their sturdiness and strength are incomparable to those of existing golems. The creator is truly an alchemist of incredible skill.”

“I see. And he’s so skilled that he was able to shake off three knights at once and escape… we have to be careful.”

Cantares, who had been muttering quietly, changed the mood and clapped his hands.

“Anyway, you contributed a lot to this, so you should be rewarded accordingly; just like I promised at the beginning.”

Cantares took out a leather pouch the size of a fist and tossed it to him.

Arendt caught it and opened it straight away to look inside. It was full of small pieces of dark purple magic stones.

Arendt asked with a dubious expression, “What? Are you giving me all of this?”

“Yes, the Count processed it himself and sent it to me because I said I would give it to you. It’s probably the best of the best.”

Cantares shrugged his shoulders as Arendt usually did.

“If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have found the mine anyway. It’s yours, so sell it or use it for training, whatever you want. You wouldn’t refuse because it’s burdensome, would you?”

“No way.”

Arendt smiled and stuffed the pouch into his pocket.

“And I have a favor to ask.”

“What?”

“Please help me find some unidentified accessories or jewelry that have a story.”

“Accessories? You’re looking for artifacts?”

Cantares, who had been following his words curiously, frowned slightly.

“You never know. My gloves were also found in the East Safe.”

“Even if you say that… There are more than one or two items with a story. Are there any more detailed conditions?”

“If I knew any, I would go out and look for them myself. If it’s an item with an interesting story attached, the odds are higher for it to be something I’m looking for.”

“Alright.”

When Cantares nodded to Jereon, the aide nodded politely and left the office.

Arendt burst into admiration.

“As expected, he’s fast.”

“Jen is competent and loyal. Unlike someone else.”

“Yes, I suppose so. Then I, an unloyal knight, will be going now. Thank you for your hard work.”

Arendt turned around without waiting for Cantares’ permission.

Cantares grumbled.

“Yes, this prince will have to bury himself in paperwork again.”

Thud.

The door closed firmly.

Cantares muttered, picking up his pen again.

“What a bad kid.”

“If I were looking for an artifact, I wouldn’t have to go through all this trouble.”

Arendt grumbled in annoyance as he flopped down on the bed.

He had just returned to the living quarters after stopping by the Crown Prince’s office, sent a letter to Neumann detailing what he had asked of him, and asked Seton to secretly inquire about it.

What he needed to find now was not a jewel or an artifact, but the place where Vincent first appeared in “The Blue Knight of the Holy Sword”.

‘A rebel group appeared alone at the jewel auction house, massacred everyone there, set fire to the castle, and ran away with the jewels that were up for sale.

The culprit was a masked man.’

This was what Cantares reported in the novel, during the height of the civil war.

First of all, he had to find the auction site. The problem was that it wasn’t easy because the incident was only mentioned in those few lines.

“Hey, man. I don’t know. I guess this is enough.”

He’s done everything he could do now. Now all he could do is wait for the results.

Arendt paused for a moment and opened the pouch the Crown Prince had thrown him.

A large number of magic stones were revealed.

The purple jewels that gave off a soft glow sparkled under the chandelier light, holding their own unique, clean magic.

“How much is this worth…”

Somehow his pockets felt heavy.

Looking down at the thirty or so magic stones, Arendt fell into a slight contemplation.

Selling it off as the Crown Prince said would be one way, but he didn’t really want to do that since he had enough money.

Arendt thought for a moment and then grabbed the sword that had been placed next to the bed.

It was a rather ornate sword, as expected from ‘Arendt’, with several jewels set into the hilt.

Arendt looked back and forth between the magic stones and the sword, then decided on something and abruptly stood up from his seat.

A while later, Arthur, who had barged into the room to look for Arendt, who was not seen in the training grounds unlike usual, was faced with a rather strange sight.

Arendt was struggling, holding onto the hilt of his sword, amidst countless magic stones scattered haphazardly on the bed.

In his hands he held a hammer and a chisel, which he had obtained from who knows who.

Knock, knock.

Arendt, who had been carefully removing the jewels attached to the sword hilt one by one, raised his head belatedly when he felt a presence.

“What? When did you come?”

“…What are you doing?”

“If you’re going to bother me, get out, or just close the door and come in.”

Whether to leave or to enter.

Arthur, who had been staring at that scene, let out a deep sigh and, following Arendt’s words, closed the door and entered the room.

“What are you doing?”

“Just a simple pastime?”

“Does it look simple?”

Arendt’s forehead was covered in beads of sweat.

Still, his effort was worth it, as several large jewels that had originally been attached to the sword were removed and placed on the bed, almost without a scratch.

Arendt placed the magic stone in the empty space. The magic stone fit perfectly into the space where the jewel had fallen.

Arthur spoke in a weary voice.

“…You really are uselessly good with your hands.”

“This is all wisdom that comes from experience, senior.”

“What nonsense are you talking about? Where can you find a noble who does this kind of thing himself?”

Arthur’s prickly question was, of course, ignored.

Arendt, having selected a few magic stones of the right size, began the task of attaching them to his sword again.

Bam, bam, bam.

As he began to carefully hammer the parts that were to be joined together, Arthur, without realizing it, began to focus on each and every movement of Arendt’s hands.

“So, what are you doing?”

“I thought it would be helpful for training.”

And soon after, a sword with three magic stones embedded in it was completed.

“Of course that would be the case… but even so, are you going to put those precious magic stones into your sword?”

“It is valuable because it is useful. Originally, things only show their value when they are used appropriately where they are needed.”

Arendt got up from his seat, swung his sword a few times, and smiled with satisfaction. It seemed like the stones wouldn’t fall out even if the sword was hit with force.

Arthur stared blankly at the sight.

Arendt, who had re-sharpened his sword, glanced at Arthur.

“Jealous?”

“Yeah.”

“…”

Arendt looked momentarily dumbfounded at the response that came out without a moment of hesitation, but soon he shrugged his shoulders and opened his mouth as if he was doing him a favor.

“His Highness the Crown Prince gave them to me… but since we’ve all gone through so much together, wouldn’t it be a bit cruel to keep them all to myself?”

“What? Really?”

Arthur’s eyes widened at the unexpected words. However, his expectations were shattered by the next words.

“How much will you give me?”

“…”

“I’ll give you a price much lower than the market price. If you add a little more, I can put it on the sword too.”

Damn.

Without realizing it, his fist began to tremble as he clenched it, but there wasn’t much Arthur could say here.

“…Will next month’s salary be okay?”

“Two months, and that includes a confidentiality clause.”

What a real scammer.

Arthur nodded, swallowing his tears.

And a few hours later, Arthur was able to trudge out of Arendt’s room, carrying a sword with a single magic stone installed, along with a lighter purse.

In the end, even his emergency fund was completely wiped out, but he couldn’t complain since he had obtained a one-of-a-kind treasure: a sword with a magic stone embedded in it.

That evening, Arthur found Richt walking around the dormitory with a similar expression to his own.

“You too, senior?”

“…”

Instead of answering, Richt let out a short sigh.

A sense of kinship that did not exist before took hold between the two.