Mastery Is Earned

We’re rich! We’re rich!

Those were the only words in Raymond’s mind, and his pace quickened with every step toward the inn. Before long, he and Henk broke into a run.

The sight of two tall men sprinting down the street sent townspeople moving aside. They turned to stare as the pair rushed past, assuming something serious had happened.

Once they reached their room, they locked the door, shut the windows, and checked that no one was hiding inside and nothing had been disturbed. Only then did Raymond place the three gold coins and the large handful of silver from their earlier sales on the table.

Even the usually stern-faced Henk could not help swallowing at the sight of the gleaming gold and the mound of silver.

These were real gold coins—and there were three of them!

Their previous shared expenses had already been settled, leaving them with a total of three gold and ninety-six silver to divide. If they split it evenly for now, they would each receive one gold and ninety-eight silver.

“This is yours. It doesn’t belong to me.” Henk pushed ten silver toward Raymond.

“It’s part of the payment. We agreed to split everything fifty-fifty,” Raymond said firmly.

“That split didn’t include your body. I could tell that woman was interested in you.” Henk grinned. “But be careful. Beautiful women are often dangerous.”

“You think a man who can call a half-orc his brother is afraid of danger?” Raymond joked. “Fine, I’ll take it. But three gold coins aren’t easy to divide.”

Henk glanced at the coins. “Let me take two gold. I’ll make up the difference. How about it?”

Raymond did the calculation in his head, then nodded. “All right.”

After setting aside the twenty silver Tessa had given Raymond personally, their joint earnings were two gold and eighty silver from the ore, plus ninety-six silver from their other sales—a total of three gold and seventy-six silver. That meant one gold and eighty-eight silver for each of them. If Henk took two gold, he would owe Raymond another twelve silver.

“Just give me twelve silver,” Raymond said.

“Twelve?” Henk was still counting on his fingers and looked surprised when Raymond gave him the exact figure.

Raymond shrugged. “You can check it yourself.”

Henk sat down and started counting on his fingers again. After quite some time, he finally dug a handful of silver from his bag and set it on the table.

Raymond counted the coins carefully, then frowned. “There are thirteen. Did you miscount?”

“The extra one’s for you. Gold coins are valuable,” Henk said with a chuckle.

Raymond had no reason to refuse the kind gesture. Smiling, he pocketed the coins.

His share came to one gold and one hundred and nine silver. Together with the twenty silver he had already saved, he now had one gold, one hundred and twenty-nine silver, and a large pile of copper.

More than a hundred silver and a large handful of copper stuffed his small cloth purse until it bulged absurdly. The coins were not especially heavy, but carrying them around like this was practically an invitation to every thief in the city.

After briefly explaining his plans to Henk, Raymond went out into the streets of Brightwater and spent thirty-two copper on a concealed money pouch and a cowhide belt pouch.

He placed the gold coin and one hundred silver in the concealed pouch and hid it beneath his arming coat. Five silver and a handful of copper went into the belt pouch, while the rest remained in his old cloth purse.

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Once everything was put away, Raymond checked the concealed pouch again. Without a permanent home, he had no choice but to carry all his money with him. Even if he did have one, he would never leave all his money in his room. There was no telling when a thief might pay a visit.

“What now? Want to celebrate with a good meal?” Raymond asked Henk, who had been lost in thought.

“Let’s hold off on eating. I want to visit the Church first.” Henk stood.

“The Church? All right.”

...

Unlike the church in Blackstone, Brightwater’s cathedral was far grander and surrounded by a dense cluster of adjoining buildings. The entire complex stood above the harbor, overlooking all of Brightwater. The cathedral’s soaring bell tower, which housed a massive bell, could be seen from miles away.

Raymond had a fairly favorable view of the Church. Before he found work with Sophie, he had often accepted its charity, occasionally receiving a little food at the church. It never tasted particularly good, but it filled his stomach.

The institution’s full name was the Church of the Holy Light. Its followers did not worship a god, but a divine force known as the Holy Light. Raymond knew little about its specific teachings. He only knew that it was a vast religious organization spanning the human nations and officially recognized by every human kingdom.

“You’re religious?” At the cathedral entrance, Raymond looked from the imposing building to Henk in disbelief.

Henk did not answer. He simply walked straight toward the doors. Though puzzled, Raymond followed.

“Sir, weapons are not permitted inside. Please leave yours here. We’ll have someone watch over it,” a young man in clerical robes politely told Henk outside the entrance.

Henk removed his weapon and solemnly placed it on the nearby rack. Raymond had no objection and did the same before following him into the cathedral.

“Sir, have you come to pray or to eat? If you’re here for a meal, it won’t be ready for a while. You may listen to the bishop’s sermon in the cathedral as you wait,” another young cleric said as he approached them and addressed Raymond.

Raymond tilted his head toward Henk instead of answering.

“Send money,” Henk said.

“I see. My apologies. This way, please.” The cleric smiled kindly and led them onward.

After passing through several large buildings in the cathedral complex, they entered a much smaller room.

Five clerics sat behind desks, sorting documents and writing reports. If not for their robes, Raymond would have taken them for scribes rather than clerics.

“Over here, sir.” The young cleric led Raymond and Henk to one of the desks, then departed.

A man of about fifty sat behind it, methodically reading through a file. He did not look up when they approached. “Where are you sending it, and how much?”

“Whitebirch Village, under the jurisdiction of Frostwind Fortress in the Duchy of Nightraven. Two gold,” Henk said.

“The Duchy of Nightraven? Frostwind Fortress? Two gold?” The cleric stopped what he was doing and looked up at the towering Henk. After a pause, he said, “Nightraven is an unusual destination. I’ll have to check our records first.”

He rose and walked over to the cabinets lining the room, all of them packed with carefully sorted documents and files.

Raymond looked from the older cleric to the others working around the room, then began studying his surroundings.

He had thought he knew a fair amount about the Church, but he had never imagined that it could send money on people’s behalf. Others might not understand the significance, but Raymond did. It meant the Church possessed a powerful local network capable of coordinating across every human kingdom.

He doubted the Church would actually send someone north carrying Henk’s two gold coins. Instead, it would send the appropriate remittance documents to a local church. Once those arrived, the local church would take two gold from its own reserves and either deliver the money to Henk’s hometown or notify the recipient to collect it. The two churches could settle their accounts afterward. The Church had already developed the beginnings of a banking system.

After quite some time, the older cleric spoke while consulting a thick volume. “Ah, Frostwind Fortress, in the far north of the Duchy of Nightraven. That won’t be cheap. Thirty percent of the amount will be deducted as a service fee.”

Thirty percent?

Raymond had not expected the fee to be so high. Henk also fell silent.

The older cleric did not rush him. He simply watched Henk in silence.

“How long will it take?” Henk finally asked. Raymond noticed that his voice had grown hoarse.

“Under normal circumstances, we receive confirmation within six weeks. But the northern roads are difficult at present. Two months without word would not be unusual.”

“Big Borg, in Whitebirch Village under Frostwind Fortress in the Duchy of Nightraven,” Henk said. “There’s only one Big Borg in the village. He’s tall. Tell him it’s from Henk.” He handed over the two gold coins.

The older cleric took the coins and carefully verified them. Once satisfied, he asked about Big Borg’s age, relatives, appearance, and the details of Whitebirch Village. He recorded Henk’s answers one by one so the recipient’s identity could be confirmed before the money was handed over.

When he finished, the cleric reminded him, “After the fee is deducted, the church at Frostwind Fortress will pay Big Borg only one gold and forty silver.”

“I know.” Henk took the receipt the cleric offered him and turned to leave.

“One moment. Have you eaten?” the older cleric asked. “If not, you’re welcome to wait here and have lunch before you go.”

Lunch?

Raymond and Henk looked at each other and smiled.