Pain…Loss…Grief — Words were not enough to describe Sylvester's mood. Yes, he was overjoyed by the effects of the beam as he doubted any Bloodling could survive being hit by it unless they were above Grand Wizard rank. But at the same time, Sylvester painstakingly collected the Skygems in the hopes of one day meeting the Dwarves and getting himself a nice armor forged from it.
Now, he had one less rock of Skygem. But there was someone even sadder than him, a certain furry lad who was promised that his shiny pebble would be safe.
Depressed, Sylvester shook Cardinal Robert's hand. "Excellent work, Cardinal. Please construct nine more units like this one, and I will bring the Pope, the Sanctum Council, and especially the Inquisitor High Lord to witness the demonstration once again. I believe this should be more than enough to exterminate those vile creatures."
"I will put the men to work, Lord Bard. Is there anything else you would like to have built?" The Cardinal inquired.
'Well, I know of many things that could be constructed, but regrettably, now is not the time,' Sylvester told himself and denied it.
"Not at the moment, Cardinal. I must depart now, as I have much work to do. Take care, and remember to visit your sister from time to time," Sylvester reminded the man, as he always did, to focus on his personal responsibilities too.
Sylvester then left and rode his horse back to the port. This time, he made his way to the Guild Peninsula as he desired to purchase a few items before nightfall. He had a particular place in mind that he wished to visit.
"Cheer up, Miraj. I will find you another nice pebble," Sylvester consoled the unresponsive cat slumped on his shoulder. "We will be meeting someone special this evening, and you will adore that place. So prepare yourself."
"Oh, my pebble…"
Sylvester knew Miraj would not perk up until they reached their destination. Hence, he ceased speaking and focused on shopping. His first stop was a stuffed toy shop.
"How much for this?" he inquired, selecting a small pig-like plushie.
The shop owner recognized Sylvester by his eyes and hair instantly. "Y-You are the!"
"Shh… Do not cause a commotion, my friend. Now, how much for this toy?"
"T-Thirty Bronze Muds, Your Grace—Should I pack it?"
Sylvester closed his eyes and pondered. "Hmmm… It's better to be safe. Please pack all of your stock."
"Understood, Your Grace, I wil… All of them?" The man realized the reality slowly. "There are more than five hundred."
Sylvester nodded. "Yes, I want all of them as gifts for the children at the orphanage. Those little ones may not have families left, but the church is their family. We are their family. And it's customary for the family to give gifts."
The man beamed with a big smile. "In that case, I will give you a ten percent discount on all of them. But I will need to call my wife and daughter to help me pack all this. If you have anything else to purchase in the market, then you may do that instead of waiting here, Your Grace."
Sylvester showed his thumb and moved ahead. His next destination was a shop that sold sweet dumplings and other snacks. Once again, he ordered six hundred items, as the orphanage staff also deserved some love.
Then, he went to a clothing store and instructed the owner to measure each child and staff at the orphanage and sew two sets of clothing for them. Furthermore, he repeated the same process with the cobbler.
He then went to the carpenter and asked him to inspect the orphanage and fix any structural or visual problems. Finally, he also purchased many books, coloring sticks, and other stationery supplies.
'I bought so much, and yet this will still only cost me a little over ten thousand Gold Graces. Money well spent, I suppose.'
Sylvester waited for some of the gifts to be prepared, with the toys and sweets being the most important ones. Then, once he had everything loaded onto long lines of carts, he headed to the vast orphanage on the same Guild Peninsula.
The orphanage was named the First Child Orphanage, as it implied all children were equal. It was erected by the twenty-fourth Pope, Brayden Octavian Brook, the Builder. It housed nearly five hundred children and was situated within a secured, high compound wall.
It was an expansive open area with gardens, ponds, and many buildings, so the children didn't feel trapped. They studied, played, and slowly grew into fine individuals.
Sylvester had sent Amy from the Sorrow Kingdom to reside there. Even a few more children he knew lived there, such as the boy and girl with golden eyes who tried to kill him years ago.
"Shiny big brother!" The children exclaimed as soon as Sylvester came into sight.
He let the children surround him and embrace him, as if they were little puppies. They shouted, jumped, and rejoiced upon seeing him.
But when carts filled with sweets rolled in, their noses were activated. Their stomachs growled, and excitement grew stronger.
'Who said money can't buy happiness? If not for oneself, it can certainly make these little ones happy.' Sylvester thought and entered the main building.
…
Sylvester spent the entire night at the orphanage, singing melodies for the children, telling them stories of the world, and uplifting their spirits to excel in their studies. Later, they indulged in a nighttime barbecue and enjoyed ice cream before retiring for the night.
The following morning, Sylvester taught the children the benefits of light exercise and meditation, which they followed attentively, cherishing every moment.
However, the time for farewell had arrived, and many saddened faces and teary eyes met him. Nevertheless, Sylvester promised to return and meet them soon and even arranged a monthly ice cream night for them, believing it was the least he could do. After all, he saw his own reflection in their plight.
"Where to now, Maxy? Home?"
"First, to Bard's. I need to evaluate if Darius managed everything well," replied Sylvester as he rode out of the Holy Land.
Darius Vulcan Marcellus was a slave nobleman whom Sylvester purchased and freed. Banished by his father, Darius possessed an exceptional memory, making him the ideal executive assistant to manage all of Sylvester's financial affairs under a Blood Contract.
Pa!
Pa!
As Sylvester approached the last corner, he heard a loud explosion of noise coming from his restaurant, causing him to hurry.
"You can do it, Borlak! You are the champion!"
"Not today! Mobin shall win today!"
To Sylvester's shock, he witnessed a large crowd gathered around a long table, where five people were competing to devour the most chicken wings, evident by the stacks of plates before them.
Pa!
Firecrackers were also being lit every few minutes to excite the crowd's enthusiasm. Even the spectators were gobbling down food, holding plates in one hand and drinks in the other.
"Ten!"
"Nine!"
A countdown began, and the competitors went berserk, devouring chicken wings as fast as possible.
Ting! Ting!
The bell rang loudly, prompting all five to cease eating. Darius then approached the table to evaluate the contenders' progress.
"Neither Borlak nor Mobin! Today's winner is… Lady Bell!"
The crowd erupted into cheers, hailing the sole female participant in the eating competition. In due time, Darius presented the victorious woman with a golden trophy and a monetary prize of five Gold Graces.
Sylvester was taken aback by the spectacle since he had not planned nor suggested any of it. He rode his horse closer to the establishment, dismounted, and entered. The people and Darius noticed him, causing him to hurry inside.
Inside the building, Sylvester noticed that all the seats were full and tables were huddled with plates and food; clearly, the people were letting themselves go. He also saw a few new faces among those serving the food and cleaning the floor. Meanwhile, the Kitchen also had a bigger staff of ten cooks.
"Your Grace! You're back!" Darius saluted in church style.
Sylvester nodded and headed to the stairs. On the way to his office on the second floor, he noticed the first floor's seating reserved for nobles and the rich was also full. The business was booming quite evidently.
'Did I just find my diamond in the rough?'
"What was happening outside?" Sylvester demanded sternly upon sitting behind his office desk.
Darius stood before the desk, nervous. "Your Grace… I thought it would be beneficial to host special competitions once a month to promote our establishment and offer small discounts to attract crowds. F-Forgive me. I did this without asking… I will stop it."
"..."
Sylvester was silent for a few seconds, increasing the poor man's anxiety. Then Sylvester suddenly stood up and walked over to him. "You will stop it now, will you?"
"I'm sorry, Your G…"
Pat!
"Haha! I'm extremely proud of you, Darius! You're a brilliant mind, my friend!" Sylvester bellowed in praise. "The lively atmosphere outside was exactly what I envisioned for the Bard's. Happy faces mean happy coffers! You're a marketing genius, Darius! Tell me, what else did you do? I truly wish to know."
Darius was unsure if Sylvester was genuinely pleased or sarcastically furious. "Are you really happy, Your Grace?"
"Happy? I'm ecstatic!"
Darius felt the weight lift off from his shoulder, and he informed everything. "Your Grace, two new branches of Bard's have opened in Green City, and it's the most popular food destination in there. I have already ordered two more branches to be opened, as the crowd is too big. I have created a standardized contract and training method for all our employees. The cooks, however, are forced to sign a magical contract that would inform us if they broke the secrecy vow of the recipes."
Sylvester felt content. "How much total revenue have we generated from all our income streams? Including the royalties I received from the nobility and the money-lending business in the Rosewood Barony?"
"In the past eight months, we've amassed three million Gold Graces. Presently, our monthly income stands at six hundred thousand. Given that the continent is relatively peaceful and business is thriving, it will increase."
Sylvester sucked in a cold breath. It was an astronomical sum of money, but it still wasn't enough for his grand ambitions.
"Open two branches in Sand City, three in the Trade Corridor of Riveria, one in Gravel City, one in Fort Sunflower, one in each School of Magic and Knighthood, and finally, one branch inside the Holy Land, right in the Pope's Peninsula," Sylvester commanded.
It was too much, Darius thought. "So many, Your Grace? Shouldn't we focus on gradual growth?"
Sylvester shook his head. "No, exponential growth is the path to true wealth. I want our monthly revenue to reach at least one million. But, even then, we must continue expanding throughout the Sol — maybe even try Masan."
Darius felt a bit dizzy, unable to comprehend the scale already. Being an ex-son of a simple Viscount, he had never seen so much money. But again, he was arrogant and ignorant before, much different from now.
"What will you do with all this money, Your Grace? More business?" he asked.
Sylvester agreed. "Yes, business, of course."
'Along with raising an army and toppling a few governments — good old CIA style,'
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