"What’s wrong?" Charles asked in confusion.
"Charles, you have to read it yourself. It’s from the Holy Star Kingdom," Leo replied, handing the letter to him.
Charles quickly took it and began to read.
At first, his expression showed mild interest as he went through the first few lines. But as his eyes moved to the second half of the letter, his face twisted in rage. He abruptly stood up and hurled the cup in his hand to the ground.
The cup shattered into countless pieces.
"That damned brat—he actually turned me into his enemy!" he roared furiously.
He kicked his own chair, sending it flying. The letter slipped from his hand and fell to the floor, allowing the others to grab and read it.
In an instant, they understood the reason behind Charles’s sudden outburst.
A boy who looked no older than fourteen, still somewhat naïve, asked, "Charles, did you really make this bounty? But the reward is a Tier 7 Weapon! Even for you, you’d have to step into the Grimoire Realm first before being granted one. There’s no way you’d actually use something like that as a reward for killing that kid, right?"
The others froze at the boy’s words, while Charles’s eyes widened with barely restrained fury.
Yet, despite how insulting those words were, he didn’t dare lash out—because that boy happened to be the youngest grandson of one of the Great Ancestors of the Order of the Crimson Veil.
For now, his anger was entirely focused on Richard.
"Charles, you need to deny this rumor immediately," someone warned. "Otherwise, your reputation will be ruined."
Richard, of course, had no idea about Charles’s reaction—and he didn’t care.
To him, blaming Charles was only natural, since the latter was his enemy.
Who else would he accuse if not his own enemy?
He continued waiting. After what felt like two hours past midnight, he finally saw Arthur return—accompanied by a group of towering, muscular men.
Even among the people of the Duke of the Frozen Mountain’s Territory, who were known for their large builds, these men were extraordinary.
Their average height easily surpassed three meters, with pale reddish skin and thick body hair. Despite the cold, they wore only thin garments, as though the freezing air didn’t bother them at all.
They pulled along a massive wagon—by hand, without horses.
Richard’s eyes naturally went to the largest among them, a bearded man standing at least three and a half meters tall.
In Richard’s view, the man looked more like a bear than a human.
He must be the Chief of the Red Bear Tribe.
"City lord, these are the ones..." Arthur said respectfully, while the barbarian men stared down at Richard with intense gazes.
Because of the size difference, they had to tilt their heads downward just to meet his eyes.
"Arthur, is this boy truly your city’s new lord?" the chieftain asked.
His voice rumbled like thunder, and Richard could feel the very air tremble from the sound.
That was pure voice—no power infused in it at all.
"Chief of the Red Bear Tribe," Arthur replied. "He is indeed our new City Lord. Don’t underestimate his age—he’s already capable of defeating a World Realm Magus. He’s a miracle in the history of our Holy Star Kingdom, perhaps even the entire world. You need not worry, our City Lord possesses methods beyond your comprehension."
Richard blinked in mild surprise. He hadn’t expected someone as stiff as Arthur to speak so highly of him.
A faint smile appeared on his lips.
Despite the immense pressure radiating from the barbarian chief, Richard remained calm.
"Chief," Richard began evenly, "removing the poison from your wife’s body is a simple matter. But first, we need to discuss the payment."
The chieftain frowned at the sudden mention of payment.
"What do you want?" he asked, his voice still booming like thunder. The most update n0vels are published on novel·fıre·net
He didn’t sound friendly in the slightest—perhaps because being polite was never his habit, even when asking for help.
"I heard your tribe possesses an artifact that can gather Aether, much like the Star Wheels used in the Holy Star Kingdom," Richard said without hesitation. "I want that artifact."
The barbarians around him froze in disbelief.
"What an outrageous demand! Does he think our artifact’s value equals a mere antidote?"
"Right! At most, he can ask for the Aether we’ve gathered."
"Let’s just seize him and force him to cure the Lady!"
"Yes, let’s do that!"
They were already bracing themselves for battle.
"Stop!" Arthur shouted sharply, drawing his sword in the process.
He glared at the chieftain. "Chief, didn’t you promise not to cause trouble within our city?"
Judging from his expression, even the chieftain was angry at Richard’s demand—but he didn’t speak like the others.
When Arthur intervened, the chief raised a massive hand, signaling his men to stand down. They instantly obeyed, clearly too afraid to defy him.
"Boy," the chieftain said at last, his voice rumbling low.
"That artifact will not be given to you. I’d rather see my wife die than hand over our tribe’s sacred relic. If it’s something else, whatever you ask of us, I’ll give it."
Are these people insane? he thought to himself.
He wanted the artifact, but apparently, this chieftain would rather lose his wife than lose it.
There was no point insisting. He had to compromise.
"I need 6,500 Tier-3 Aether. Can you provide that?" Richard asked.
"What? That much?" one of the barbarians blurted out. "Our artifact can only gather 3,000 Tier-3 Aether—and that already takes time!"
"If I recall correctly, we only have about 2,000 left," another added.
"6,500 Tier-3 Aether—and there’s something else I want," Richard cut them off loudly, shocking them yet again.
He knew that each barbarian tribe maintained small alliances with others, many of which possessed similar artifacts. The Red Bear Tribe could easily borrow Aether from them.
Since he couldn’t obtain the artifact itself, Richard naturally had to demand more compensation.
"What else do you want?" the chieftain asked before anyone else could speak again.
"I want your tribe," Richard said calmly, "to assist me in attacking another tribe."