After the green-haired Teresa introduced herself with a graceful curtsy, Christina clumsily returned the gesture with a commoner's bow. It was a rare sight—a noble lowering themselves to a commoner, especially in a world where status was immutable. Nobles were nobles, and peasants were peasants, as dictated by the rigid hierarchy upheld by swords and magic. This gesture from Teresa, though small, lessened Ander's disdain for her, if only a little.
"I'm Christina Vissey," Christina said, her voice trembling slightly. "I issued the request to propose a deal with your family."
Christina's awkwardness was understandable—this was her first time negotiating. Ander, sensing her nerves, whispered guidance through their shared link. **"Stay calm. Remember, this is about getting your grandfather's relic back. Speak confidently."**
Taking a deep breath, Christina looked Teresa in the eye. "Would your family be interested in profiting significantly from this year's Boeing Magic Tournament?"
Teresa's polite smile didn't falter. "Oh, my dear, the tournament is a respected event. Even noble families like ours wouldn't dream of exploiting it for personal gain."
Christina interrupted, her voice steadying. "Please, Teresa. Everyone knows the Oaken family's involvement in the tournament. Let's not waste time with formalities. Will you answer my question?"
Teresa raised an eyebrow, intrigued by the girl's audacity. After a pause, she admitted with a sly grin, "Alright. Yes, our family does profit from the tournament's betting pools, which are perfectly legal under Duke Gruel XIII's laws. Even the Duke himself enjoys a wager now and then." She paused. "But what exactly are you proposing?"
"Simple," Christina replied. "Your family provides me with information about my opponents. In return, I win the tournament. You make a fortune."
Teresa blinked, then laughed softly. "You're confident, little one. But do you know the risks? The death rate for magic apprentices in this tournament is thirty percent. Of those deaths, seventy percent are apprentices like you. And this year's competitors include prodigies like David Tepofir, a wind magic genius; Benjamin Nadar, the 'Fire Sprite'; and the elven earth druid, Ora-gon Noyuski. They are leagues ahead of a novice like you."
Undeterred, Christina replied, "As my mentor says: *Anything is possible.* Are you not brave enough to take a risk, Miss Teresa?"
Teresa hesitated, caught off guard by Christina's calm defiance. She turned to leave but stopped midway. Her voice softened, carrying a hint of curiosity. "Your mentor sounds... optimistic. But fine. I'll provide you with all the information on your first opponent. If—and only if—you win, I'll give you data on the next. Consider it an investment. But a word of advice—when you encounter an opponent you can't defeat, surrender quickly. Survival is more valuable than pride."
With that, Teresa and her bodyguard melted into the night.
As the sound of her footsteps faded, Ander seethed. **"My ideas are *wrong*? Oh, you foolish woman... I'll prove you wrong. Just you wait."**