The Developer Reborn As Archmage

Drakva’s eyes were fixed on Darya’s hand after she took the glove off. Despite not being afraid of intruders, the man seemed to anticipate what she could pull out.

There must be a few things that he’s worried about.

His flat mouth curled into a grin when he saw the ring.

“Soulstone?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “Only twenty-eight thousand? It’s worth more than that these days.”

“Really?” Darya asked. “You could’ve not told me that, though.”

“One thing I don’t do is slight anyone out of money. A princess of a kingdom, definitely not. Bad for my reputation, see.”

“Wh-what is it really worth then, master?” Seris asked, gaining the courage for the first time.

“Depends on the rarity. There’s supposed to be twenty-two soulstones. It comes down to if it has a soul charge or not, if the charge is full or partial, if the color and pattern are pretty, and where the soul came from.” Drakva stared carefully at the ring. “The lowest soulstone could be anywhere upwards of thirty thousand. Since this is the ninth, that should be eighty thousand at least. I see it has a soul charge. Black clouds, purple. Not everyone’s taste. It should be worth more than a hundred and twenty thousand in any case.”

Darya beamed at the orc. If Sarka was revealed, this was a national treasure. “You know a lot about these things,” she remarked.

“Indeed. Knowing about expensive things keeps my business running,” he said with a confident smirk. “So, what do you want to do, princess? Today’s items are decided. I can make space for your ring two weeks from now.”

“Oh, this ring’s not for sale yet, master Drakva. I just wanted to show you I’m not poor,” Darya said with a smile. “I simply wanted to be invited to your auction today.”

Drakva narrowed his eyes. “You could’ve just knocked on the door. A princess is more than welcome.”

“Well, I wanted to be sure. Since Karossa is not friends with Galtea,” Darya said politely.

Drakva laughed. “I see. Sounds like you must’ve run into some trouble with the baron.”

I didn’t actually. Sounds like it is something that could’ve happened. I’ll play along.

“You’re rather open. I appreciate that.”

Drakva slammed his palm on the table. “Money is money for me, blood, black or otherwise. Whatever troubles you have in Galtea, you won’t have trouble in my colosseum, princess.”

Darya smiled with a nod. “That’s reassuring to hear. I was worried about nothing.”

“I didn’t even verify you’re who you say you are. Don’t you think that’s a bit odd?” Drakva asked, leaning back on his chair.

“Indeed. A ring doesn’t prove my status. Do you need more?”

“No. A ring is enough. Doesn’t matter to me if you’re who you say you are. If you’re a princess, good. If you’re not a princess, not my business. I’m better off not knowing.”

He just doesn’t give a damn beyond money. That’s more principled than I thought. Maybe this is why he gets all the things he does. He doesn’t care where those things come from.

“I’ll see you in the auction then. Below the arena, right?”

“There’s a red staircase near the fourth entrance. Can’t miss it.”

“I wonder what’s on sale today?” Darya asked.

Drakva grinned. “You already know what you want to buy, don’t you? Why would a princess or a pretender go to all this trouble if they didn’t have a reason?”

“You’re clever,” Darya admitted with a grin that matched the orc.

Drakva pulled out a red book from which he tore off a red page with black lettering. “This is your formal invite. Seventy-nine bidders invited, including you.”

Darya smiled politely as she took the piece of paper. “Thank you, master Drakva.”

“Good luck, princess of Karossa.”

Drakva raised his voice again as they were halfway across the room. “That elf from Rhakali is worth half as much as the ring, princess. Let me know if you want to sell her. Or if you have more.”

Seris jolted in place. Darya caught a glimpse of her rosy face turning pink. She stared wide-eyed at Darya.

He figured out that much with just her face?!

Darya didn’t even bother asking how he knew. “This one’s not for sale either, master Drakva. I’ll come to you if I ever change my mind.”

Drakva laughed even louder.

The red-dressed woman gave the wand back to Seris on their exit. She grabbed it with a trembling hand and walked away without another word.

Their seats were unoccupied. Roden and Seha had kept others from taking them. Seris sat down as soon as they got there, fanning herself with her hand.

“Talked with bossman Drakva?” Roden asked curiously.

“Yes, we have an invitation,” Darya said.

“I almost wet myself! What was that about selling me!” Seris said dismally.

“It’s nothing. I think he wanted to poke at you because you’re covering your ears,” Darya said, letting Seris lean on her.

“Ears?” Roden narrowed his eyes at Seris. “She has expensive earrings, or what?”

“Well, something like that,” Darya scoffed.

“Ehhm.” The deep voice of Sarka came from the ring. “It took all of my willpower to stay quiet. I couldn’t see well! Who exactly did you try to sell me to, princess!”

“Princess?” Roden raised an eyebrow. He was getting more confused. Darya had lied to him about being a pirate captain.

“Appreciate you not talking. It would’ve ruined things. What do you mean you couldn’t see well? I thought you couldn’t see at all?” Darya asked.

Sarka cleared his throat again, but didn’t answer.

“Hey!”

“It’s the oil,” Seris said, raising her head. “The coating wears off after a while.”

Darya looked at Seris blankly. She had forgotten about this oil coating thing. She had only been allowed to wear the ring after Seris checked it for curses. She had dunked it in some sort of oil.

Ah, right! It’s the mana transference thing. Sarka said he couldn’t see when he was on his corpse because his senses were wired differently by Dreagans.

“Sarka, you might be more useful now if you can see. Can you keep an eye out for me?” Darya asked.

“Forgive me. I was about to lie to you and keep you believing I could only hear,” Sarka said with a tone of regret. Darya had already figured that out.

By lying about his senses, Sarka could’ve caught Darya if she ever lied to him about a situation. There wasn’t much else he could do besides disrupt something at a critical moment. Lying about this was innocent self-preservation. She didn’t want any apologies over that.

“I’m not worried you lied. You still need to stay on my finger for mana, unless you want to be on someone else’s finger, of course,” Darya said.

“I-I would not dare such betrayal of my savior!”

“What are you talking about?” Roden asked, interrupting them.

“Pirate business,” Darya said casually.

“Your glove just called you a princess?”

“So what? Is there a rule about princesses not being allowed to be pirates?!”

Roden swallowed, looking at her wide-eyed. “I guess not.”

“I have a question,” Darya said, leaning in. “Drakva said there are only five items today, but he didn’t tell me what they were. Do you have any information on this?”

“What are you looking for, lady?” Roden asked.

“Can’t tell you. What do you know?”

“Rumors say he got some crazy stuff gathered in the last three weeks. Folks at the port said his men loaded a big seawater tank. I thought it was some sort of sea creature. Sea beast hatchlings sell for a lot of money, see. But the tank was small for a sea beast. Fit inside one carriage.” He paused to catch his breath. “Heard some people say they saw a mermaid.”

“What! There’s a mermaid here?!” Darya hadn’t expected that.

“Not confirmed, but that’s what I heard,” Roden said with a nod.

Seris stared at her in disbelief. “By the light! c-could that be the—”

Darya knew what she wanted to say. They were looking for a merfolk girl. A mermaid was slightly different. The same thought rang in her head. No one in colony 981 had told her what the girl was. She was rare and expensive. She could breathe underwater.

Wait a goddamn minute. Could she really be a mermaid?!

“Hm. A mermaid. Interesting.” Darya said, tapping her chin.

Seris leaned in with a puzzled look. “What’s next then?”

“I have to get to the auction to figure out the rest. You can stay with these two.”

“There’s no way I’m letting you go on your own!” Seris said shakily.

The announcer screamed the start of the final fight. The colosseum burst with the roars of the audience.

“Here comes…! Arten the hunter!” The announcer yelled over the sound of the roars. A man wearing an oversized black fur coat emerged from one end of the arena. He was thinner than other fighters but at least three heads taller than anyone Darya had seen so far. He wore a blank white mask with one hole for an eye.

“…and! I…ka…ro!” the announcer’s voice cracked.

A shirtless old man emerged from the other end of the arena. He was twice as muscular as Korm, the fighter that they saw at the start. His mane was gathered back with a black band. He had gray skin and twisting antlers with three iron rings on each.

He’s built like a bison. What even is he?

The antler-like horns reminded her of the seven-foot-tall corpse that she fought.

“Sarka, this one might be one of your people. He has horns,” Darya said, leaning forward.

The last fight was intense to say the least. The way they fought blurred the line between using skills and just doing things. Both fighters were at the peak of their physical form, regardless of their ages. This made their skills a marginal advantage on top of already devastating capabilities. Both had signature moves that made them popular.

Ikaro, the old druid, had a charge that worked similarly to Wind Step. For some reason, it had an odd status effect that froze the opponent, probably one of the mental state-altering ones, like bloodlust or terror.

Arten, the lanky masked fighter, had a way to make himself ‘slippery’ in a way. His movements became erratic and unpredictable, bending at unnatural angles. He fought like a fencer rather than a brawler. Most of his movements were too fast to see with the naked eye.

The fight ended in a draw after both fighters spilled a lot of blood in the arena. Arten seemed to deteriorate even as the result was announced. He had to be carried out on a stretcher while Ikaro solemnly walked back through the same gate he came in, leaving a trail of blood behind him.

The crowd turned into a riot over the referee's decision. Ikaro’s supporters started fighting everyone. A few minutes later, Drakva himself announced that Arten was in critical condition and the winner of the fight was Ikaro. This didn’t make the riot any better. Arten’s supporters went insane, crashing with Ikaro’s supporters in the arena.

Half the audience remained to watch this battle of supporters unfold. A few minutes later, Drakva’s soldiers started cleaning up the colosseum, beating anyone in their path as they pushed the arena invaders towards the exits.

“Time to leave,” Darya said when the riots worsened with three factions beating the crap out of each other. “I don’t know if we’ll meet again. Here’s your money,” she said to Roden, handing him ten gold coins.

Roden swallowed hard, eyes wide in disbelief.

“Th-this much?!”

“I told you I’d pay for information. Put that money to good use,” Darya said.

They parted as everyone rushed out of the colosseum. Roden promised to meet them somewhere again and disappeared into the crowd with his daughter.

Darya showed the red invitation paper to the guards at the red staircase near the fourth exit. They descended the staircase and walked down a long underground corridor that twisted back towards the arena.

“Feels like we’re walking into the lion’s den,” Seris said apprehensively as they turned a corner.

“There better be a mermaid in here somewhere. I have high hopes now!” Darya said, briskly hurrying along.