"Thank you!" Gerald quickly ran to the little house and knocked on the door.
"Who is it?" A voice came from inside and a middle-aged man opened the door. "Who are you, what do you want?"
"Sir Saff Bezir? I have a letter here for you…" Gerald handed him the sealed paper scroll.
Glancing at the young man standing before him, the headmaster snatched the scroll with a swift motion and broke the seal.
Giving the content a quick look he immediately understood what was going on, "Ah, a letter of recommendation from my friend over at the Golden Pouch!"
Looking with a piercing gaze he asked, "So I assume you are this 'Gerald' in the letter?"
Gerald nodded.
"Hm, very well, step inside," headmaster Saff invited him.
"So what's the deal, boy? Why have you come to me?" the man asked after they both sat down.
Gerald took a deep breath, "It's like this, my companions and I arrived at the capital recently and we are opening up a small potion-making facility. I was hoping we could establish some sort of partnership…"
Before he could continue, however, he was interrupted, "Small? How small are we talking about? If it's less than fifty potions per week don't even bother wasting your breath! For such a small quantity you can talk to the supervisors outside."
Saff Bezir frowned, how could a small production facility be worth his time? He was currently in a bad mood because of it.
"No, no, of course not! I wouldn't waste sir's precious time with that! We plan on producing at least one hundred Healing Potions per week and we were hoping we could sell them here, as well as order the necessary ingredients at the same time…" Gerald quickly explained further.
Taking out a small vial he placed it on the table, "I brought this potion so you could examine it and get a better feeling for our product."
"One hundred, you say?" The boss took the glass bottle and his mood lightened somewhat. That many potions were worth at least twenty-five gold, it was just barely worth his time.
He uncorked the bottle and took a sniff before taking a drop of the potion inside and tasting it.
"Oh!" His eyes enlarged in surprise and he stared at the bottle in disbelief, "It's so pure! I have never tasted such good quality Healing Potion before!" Murmuring to himself he continued, "I can feel the medicine is much stronger than usual, at least by a third!"
But quickly he got his emotions back under control and he stared at Gerald with a skeptical gaze, "Is this potion specifically made to impress me or are you able to mass-produce it? I've had a few people that tried to jack up the price by doing such stuff before, and it didn't end well for them!"
Gerald smiled and shook his head, "Of course not! I guarantee that every potion we produce will be comparable to this one! We might be just opening up, but we have some pride in our ability, you know?"
"Hmm, alright then! I'll buy them off of you for twenty-one silver coins per vial! But if it turns out that you lied, then…" He didn't continue his words, but the meaning was clear. They better not try to scam him or the consequences would be severe.
"Twenty-one?" Gerald shook his head, "This is probably the highest quality product in the capital, at least twenty-three silver!"
Now it was the time for the headmaster to furiously shakes his head, "twenty-one is already more than the usual twenty silver price! I'm giving you a bonus in consideration for my friend who recommended you! Twenty-one and a half!"
"Come on! Let's meet in the middle, twenty-two and a half! It's a fair price! I bet some rich people would love to have a better product than the masses, you could easily raise the price for at least five silver!" Gerald wasn't going to let himself be taken advantage of.
Saff Bezir's mustache danced on his face as various expressions flashed across his face. Eventually, he came to a decision. He struck the table and loudly said, "Tell you what? Bring me your potions next time, and if they are really comparable to this one… I'll buy them for 22 silver coins! That's my final offer, take it or leave it!"
A small smile flashed across Gerald's face, "Deal!" He extended his hand.
"Excellent! The documents will be ready in a few days! Just bring the goods next time and we can put it down in ink!" The headmaster shook his hand happily. It was a good deal for him.
Even though he agreed to pay a bit more, just as Gerald said, rich people liked to stand out, even if it was the most mundane thing, they preferred to have the best! Paying a few coins more wasn't something they were concerned about.
***
Roar!
In the underground chambers of the Magic Academy, a large humanoid beast was roaring and banging on the thick iron bars of its cage.
With each body slam, the ground lightly shook and dust fell from the ceiling, but to no avail. The cage was designed to hold even those at the Silver 3-Rank.
The Orc Shaman inside was barely Iron 4, meaning he could exert strength in the range of 400 kg. He was strong, that much was true, but the main source of power lay in the ability to cast magic spells and not its muscles.
The door of the dungeon opened among creaking sounds. Three people dressed in long dark-blue robes entered and surrounded the cage.
"Gah! Humans! Finally, someone to kill!" The Orc Shaman roared and his Mana surged, producing flames around his body.
"Silence beast!" An old man standing in front of the cage shouted and then made a few moves with his hands, "Water Prison!"
Shaaaa!
A surge of water came from the barrels in the room and completely covered the Orc. Struggling for air, the Orc tried to shake it off, but to no avail.
"Fould beast, don't even think about escaping from here!" The old man's words carried a sort of authority and his face had an angry frown as he controlled his magic.
"What are you waiting for Vurra? Get him that muzzle you brought!" the old man shouted.
"Yes, master!" The young man by the name of Vurra quickly opened his pouch and took out a metal muzzle. Grabbing the Orc through the metal bars he fastened it on his head and closed the lock.
The Orc was now incapable of speaking any longer.
After the old man released his magic, the Orc Shaman collapsed on the ground, gasping for air. But because of the muzzle, he could barely breathe and so all his arrogance and aggression were gone. In fear, he moved to the corner of the cage and angrily observed his captors.
"Headmaster Errgan, this is the Orc Shaman I told you about! We received it from the Phoenix Knights yesterday. It cost us quite a hefty sum, but we managed to gather quite a bit of information." This time it was a middle-aged man that spoke to the old headmaster.
"Mn," the old man nodded, "Tell me all you know!"
"Yes!" The man straightened his back and spoke, "A week ago, during a training exercise in the south, the Phoenix Knights stumbled upon some remnants of a merchant caravan. At first, they thought it was bandits who did it, but then they found tracks belonging to Goblins!"
"After a bit of investigation, they found a nest in the nearby forest. The amount of those filthy beasts was massive! From what they told me, it was at least two-hundred Goblins, ten Hobgoblins, and even five Black Goblins! A chaotic battle ensued!"
The headmaster's eyes enlarged in shock, "So many? How is this possible?"
Shaking his head, the middle-aged man spoke, "I have no idea! That part is frequently traveled so it should be impossible for a nest of that size to remain undiscovered for so long… Anyway, since the Phoenix Knights are the elites, they have slain the beasts without difficulty but…"