“The same?”
These two words struck a nerve with Sylvie.
Repeating the phrase, her body slowly straightened, and the pressure that nearly crushed everything faded away.
“It’s said that countless epochs ago, men too ruled this land, yet now they’re reduced to vassals.”
“Just like the Dragon Clan once covered the sky and blocked out the sun, but now hides away in a corner of the world.”
“Thinking of it that way, your perspective is actually rather interesting.”
The air in the room began to flow again.
Lomio could finally breathe smoothly.
Sylvie stepped back two paces, putting distance between them, then sat back down on her single armchair.
She no longer looked at him, instead casting her gaze out the window, where the Academy’s vast scenery stretched on.
Lomio could see the flicker of displeasure in Sylvie’s profile:
“Even so, what do you plan to use to compare yourself with me?”
“I am bound by blood, born to carry the glory and curse of Valentine.”
“And you, my dear junior, are nothing but a cunning little cheat, a bit clever perhaps, but still a fraud.”
She still wore a smile, as if she had everything under control, but her breath was unsteady, her words laced with arrogance rooted deep in her blood.
“Fraud?” Lomio laughed.
He liked that title.
“That’s right, I’m a fraud. Just an ordinary cheat who wants to live a little better at the Academy.”
He leaned back on the sofa, relaxed, not taking the dragon’s might just now to heart:
“Isn’t that the nature of a merchant, to be a fraud?”
“I just wonder, senior, are you interested in the intel I have, or is it me, this ‘fraud’, you’re more curious about?”
That provocation, Lomio delivered at just the right moment.
He could feel Sylvie’s defenses wavering.
She was curious—about his secrets, about him as a person—in a way she couldn’t ignore.
A dragon’s curiosity.
Once ignited, it was nearly impossible to extinguish.
With the charm aura disturbing her, she would be all the more impulsive.
“Of course, your intel. Your secrets.” Sylvie finally turned her gaze back, those golden slit-pupiled eyes pure scrutiny. “Name your price.”
“I don’t like beating around the bush.”
“Nor do I.” Lomio replied openly. “But the value of intel can’t be measured. Naming a price directly is too crude.”
He wasn’t after a one-off deal.
He wanted a big fish that could keep laying golden eggs.
“I have a better proposal.” Lomio leaned forward ever so slightly, seizing back the initiative in this match.
“Let’s play a game.”
“Game?” Sylvie clearly disliked that word.
“That’s right. A game to prove which of us is more valuable.” Lomio’s smile was one Sylvie couldn’t quite read.
“Let’s set the term at two weeks.”
“We’ll each rely on our own means to earn Academy credits.”
“After two weeks, we’ll compare results. Whoever earns less must transfer all their credits earned in this period, free of charge, to the winner.”
“Of course, no matter the outcome, I’ll share all I know about the Dragonkin bloodline with you, as a sign of good faith.”
Sylvie didn’t reply immediately.
She merely watched Lomio, as if analyzing the true intent behind his words.
This was a trap.
She was certain.
From the moment he’d appeared, every step this man took was calculated.
He deliberately lured her in, and now tossed out a wager that seemed fair.
Behind this wager, there must be a killing move he’d already prepared.
But so what?
A border count’s son might have some alluring traits, but then what?
How many deals had he done?
How much power had he handled?
“That’s it?” Sylvie let out a disdainful snort. “A few hundred, maybe a thousand credits? That’s nothing to me.”
To someone who’d only just learned about credits, Sylvie found it hard to muster interest.
“Of course not.”
Lomio knew she’d say that.
“That’s just the basic stake.”
“The real wager is, if after two weeks, our earnings are separated by an overwhelming margin.”
His gaze locked onto Sylvie.
“For example, nine to one.”
“If that happens, then the loser…”
Lomio paused, savoring the change in her expression.
“…will become the winner’s property for a full year.”
“Obeying the winner’s every command unconditionally, surrendering everything but the right to life.”
“That includes your body, your will, your dignity.”
Every trace of expression vanished from Sylvie’s face. Those golden slit-pupiled eyes shrank to their limits in an instant, cold and devoid of any living warmth.
She wasn’t angry.
She was assessing.
Weighing the risks of this wager, gauging this man’s madness.
“Impressive.” She finally spat out the words.
“Man, you’re playing with fire.”
This wager was already beyond a mere game—it was a gamble for one’s future.
“Perhaps.” Lomio shrugged indifferently. “But what, you don’t dare?”
His tone was light, yet struck right at her sore spot.
“Heir of the Valentine family, descendant of dragon blood, the future guardian of the duchy.”
“Could it be you’re afraid to lose to a ‘man’ from the border, someone with nothing?”
“Or are you really afraid of the knowledge I possess—afraid that your pride might shatter before me?”
A classic goad.
Old as time, but always effective against a proud dragon.
Lomio could even feel the “charm” aura quietly working, turning every word of his into a hook tugging at her heartstrings.
He didn’t want her to fall for him.
He just wanted to throw her off balance.
Make her waver between impulse and reason, and finally make the choice that benefited him the most.
“You’re interesting, Lomio.”
Sylvie’s smile was faint, slit-pupiled eyes fixed on Lomio, laced with danger.
“I accept the wager.”
“No wonder you’re senior—you decide so quickly.”
Lomio finished the ice water in his cup.
“However, a verbal agreement means nothing.”
Sylvie rose and walked to one side of the room.
She stretched out her hand and tapped a rhythm on the smooth wall.
The wall slid open soundlessly, revealing a hidden compartment.
Inside, two ancient-looking scrolls lay quietly.
Sylvie took one and returned to Lomio.
“This is a ‘Witness Contract’.” She unfurled the scroll on the coffee table.
On the old parchment, intricate golden magical patterns instantly appeared.
“Repeat the terms of your wager. It will record our agreement. Once established, neither side can break it, or suffer a backlash from the magic.”
Well, well.
Playing for keeps?
Lomio looked at the scroll, faintly pulsing with magic, and felt his heart skip a beat.
He had prepared a contract too, but… this was a Witness Contract! It bound souls, could never be torn up, and needed no third-party arbitration!
Now, the wager had changed completely.
This was no longer a game where you could renege—it was a sacred pact, one with binding force.
“What, lost your nerve?” Sylvie caught his brief hesitation.
“Of course not.” Lomio came back to himself and met her gaze. “I was just wondering, senior, if you’re already eager to become my property?”
“After all, a whole year.”
He deliberately made his words ambiguous.
Sylvie’s cheeks seemed to flush the faintest red, so quick it might have been imagined. The fine scales on her cheeks also stood out a bit more.
“Enough nonsense.” She said coldly. “Begin.”
Lomio stopped provoking.
He cleared his throat and repeated every word of the wager exactly as before.
As he spoke, golden magical patterns flowed on the parchment, finally gathering into rows of clear common script.
[Contractors: Sylvie Valentine, Lomio]
[Contract Term: Fourteen days from the moment of signing]
[Contract Content: During the contract period, both parties will use legal means to earn Academy credits. At the end of the period, earnings will be tallied.]
[Clause 1: The party with lower earnings must transfer all earnings during the contract period to the party with higher earnings.]
[Clause 2: If the ratio of earnings reaches nine to one or higher, the lower earner will become the property of the higher earner for one year. During this period, the loser must unconditionally obey all commands of the winner and surrender all rights except for the right to life.]
The text took form.
Sylvie extended a slender index finger, slashed the tip, and let a drop of crimson blood fall on the scroll.
The blood was swiftly absorbed by the magic pattern, and her name shone with a dazzling light.
“Your turn.” She looked at Lomio.
Lomio didn’t hesitate.
He too pricked his finger and let his blood drip onto the scroll.
The instant his blood touched the parchment, the entire scroll burst with blinding golden light.
Amid the glow, Lomio seemed to hear an ancient, majestic dragon’s roar.
The contract was sealed.
When the light faded, the parchment scroll rolled up on its own, then split into two beams of light, shooting into the Academy badges on Lomio and Sylvie’s chests.
Lomio felt his badge grow slightly warm.
A message floated into his mind.
[Witness Contract has taken effect]
[Opponent: Sylvie Valentine]
[Countdown: 13 days, 23 hours, 59 minutes]
Perfect.
Everything was proceeding as planned.
No—better than planned.
With this magic contract, he no longer had to worry about Sylvie, heir of the Valentine family, relying on her status to renege.
“How interesting.”
Sylvie sat down once more, her posture graceful, as if the heart-pounding wager just now had never happened.
“Now, hand over the deposit.”
“Tell me your intel—everything about the Dragonkin.”