Keep it as a trump card, use it when necessary.
As for the exact price...
Let’s just say, under normal circumstances, the "Ruby Dust" needed for the casting materials of a [Force Field Prison] alone is worth 1500 gold.
And once inscribed into a Magic Scroll... well, even a man as wealthy as Cornell felt it was a bleeding of his heart.
The cost completely outweighs the mission rewards.
Even the greatest gain of this adventure, that silver-white apparatus of obvious significance, broke free from the [Force Field Prison] and was teleported away.
"It’s almost drained me dry."
Cornell’s gaze swept over the goblin corpses around him.
Not to mention their ears, which were scorched down to mere charred black, and whether they could still be traded for a bounty as spoils of war.
This sum of money, he didn’t even care for.
He stepped forward and ascended the steps in the center of the cave.
The last ring on the thumb of his left hand flickered with a silver light.
The Black Robe Goblins’ bodies, along with the altar with its dim patterns behind them, vanished from their original place in an instant.
Cornell only hoped that these two could fetch a decent price from the goblin scholar he knew.
His wooden magic wand gently tapped the ground, and magic power began to gather and operate in the air once more.
The space around him distorted.
The corpse of the golden-haired Elf, with its broken neck, disappeared as well.
For a Mage, or rather, a wealthy Mage, resurrection was never an issue.
Once back in Huancai City, they could begin preparing the necessary resurrection arrangements.
Unfortunately, the fallen body of another teammate, the Half orc Volga, was already in tatters under the pull of the silver-white iron ball’s gravity.
To resurrect him... would cost several times more than that of the Elf.
And given his personality, even if he were reborn, he probably wouldn’t have any intention of repaying the debt.
Cornell’s gaze shifted away from the Half orc’s body, having already made a decision in his heart.
The fellow had only joined midway, completely different from the golden-haired Elf who had been his companion since the team’s inception.
Dead is dead. He could find another one later if needed.
However, he should remember the lesson: next time, he should find someone with at least ordinary intelligence levels.
Along the way, the traps destroyed by the Half orc alone could probably buy a small house with a garden in Neum City.
"Beastman bloodline, barbarian profession... tsk tsk."
Cornell couldn’t help but recall those vile jokes often told leisurely in the lab and shook his head.
Behind him, suddenly a hoarse, deep voice echoed.
"So why doesn’t the Association directly hire a large battalion army for a once-and-for-all solution then?"
"Instead of sending these little guys, who have yet to earn their professional levels, to risk their lives against goblins?"
Cornell raised an eyebrow, surprised that the usually reticent human warrior would ask such a question.
He suddenly recalled that this doubt was initially raised by the golden-haired Elf, but at that time, close to their destination, he hadn’t elaborated much.
He only half-heartedly said they’d discuss it after the mission ended.
Unexpectedly, it stayed in their mind, leading to a question now that the mission had ended.
Cornell, in response, merely gestured towards the ground.
There, the shattered remains of the Half orc Volga had merged with the dismembered goblin bodies around it.
"It’s Hunting Day; with so many goblins around, they must be cleared."
"But... the number of adventurers is not exactly low, either."