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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Cyno
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“W-where on earth did you get this outfit?”
“I won it in a gamble.”
“That’s absurd! Who would gamble away an imperial gift from the Emperor?”
“Well, believe it or not, such people do exist. Hehehe.”
It was me. In my past life, I had lost this ceremonial robe in a gamble.
Bouton glanced at the knight accompanying him and shook his head repeatedly. He seemed eager to strip me bare like some country bumpkin, but since I was with a knight responsible for the castle’s security, he had to hold back.
What a shame. If he could sell this robe to a wealthy Blood Clan member, he’d make enough money to change his fortunes. Those Blood Clan kids go crazy for rare fashion items like this.
“I can’t buy this. You should try the royal capital.”
“I don’t have time to go all the way to the royal capital… Do you think anyone in Kara would buy it?”
Kara could definitely handle this robe. Kara is a massive desert city along the great trade routes, amassing unimaginable wealth through intermediary trade and abundant mineral resources. How rich is it? A century ago, the Emir’s palace in Kara caught fire, and the melted gold and silver formed rivers.
There’s even a saying about Kara: Even beggars there wear silk.
“Yes, they’d be far more suitable than our royal capital.”
“I should’ve gone to Kara from the start. Tch, what a waste of time.”
As I clicked my tongue, the knight hurried over and grabbed Bouton by the collar.
“He said he’ll buy it!”
“Look, this robe is beyond my means.”
“Buy it anyway! The magistrate will cover the cost.”
“Well, in that case… Alright.”
Bouton nodded immediately. With the local magistrate promising financial backing, even a small clothing store like his could afford expensive items.
Bouton began meticulously examining the robe. Given its high value, he had to be thorough.
“First, considering the base material cost, craftsmanship, and its secondhand condition… Hmm. It’s worth around 350 leafs of gold.”
“Really?”
“Yes. The issue is whether this robe is truly an imperial gift crafted by Lord Rolfrain for the Yosrahim Emperor. If it is, its value skyrockets. Why? Because it’s a masterpiece by the greatest artisan—something nearly impossible to obtain in the Kingdom of Kalligo. Gifts from an enemy emperor can’t be acquired unless taken in war.”
“Oh? Is that so?”
Ignoring my indifferent response, Bouton focused intently on the unusually large essence embedded in the robe.
“Is this robe enchanted with magic?”
“Hmm. I heard it has spells to regulate body temperature and prevent wrinkles.”
“Then it has just the right enchantments for clothing. But why? These spells could’ve been achieved with a single low-grade essence, yet this robe uses a high-grade one. I don’t understand.”
“Oh, that? The original owner said it was for the ‘look.’ The style, you know.”
I relayed what Lord Rolfrain himself had told me.
He insisted that only a high-grade essence could perfectly preserve the robe’s silhouette, so he accepted the massive cost and added an unnecessarily high-grade essence. Someone like Bouton, a regular tailor, might not get it, but my past self understood completely. If you want the best look, you pay for the best materials. Besides, it was a gift from my uncle, so it wasn’t my money anyway.
But now that I think about it, this is outrageous. Normally, people try to minimize essence size to cut costs, not increase it for aesthetics.
“Are you serious?”
“Yeah.”
Bouton scanned the various gems and patterns before nodding slowly. As an expert, he seemed to grasp Lord Rolfrain’s artistic vision just from the brief explanation and the robe’s appearance.
“The gem placements and sizes are perfectly balanced. This definitely isn’t something a counterfeiter could replicate.”
“So, how much is it worth now?”
“Currently, 710 leafs of gold.”
My eyes widened. In my past life, I had gambled this robe away for a mere 5 leafs of gold, and now it was worth 710? It really showed how carelessly I’d lived back then.
The knight anxiously stepped forward and poked Bouton’s side.
“Hey, isn’t that too expensive?”
“Wait, I’m not done yet.”
“Huh?”
“It could go even higher. We still have to consider its historical significance.”
Bouton looked at me seriously.
“If this is an imperial gift, the original owner must’ve been someone extraordinary. The price varies depending on who that was.”
“For example?”
“Take Grand Duke Cloud, for instance. If this robe belonged to him, its value would multiply. It’d become a historical relic.”
Grand Duke Cloud is a revered elder of the Yosrahim Imperial Family, well over 190 years old. In terms of lineage, he’s something like my great-great-great-great-granduncle.
And this old man’s influence is no joke. He’s the legendary general who elevated the small central kingdom of Yosrahim into an empire and the continent’s strongest swordsman, having reached the pinnacle of Mind Mastery.
When this geezer moves, the world trembles. Countless nations have fallen to him.
My own family, the Karl Ducal House—once the dark kingdom of Karl—was wiped out because of him. And that’s not all. The Grand Duke forced the Lupet Kingdom in the south to surrender and annexed it, then completely annihilated the Oland and Witten Kingdoms to the west, claiming their lands for the empire.
I wiped my face regretfully. Had I known, I’d have worn this robe for the old man during the year-end imperial gathering. What a waste.
Bouton’s sharp eyes scanned the robe’s fabric, where the imperial crest and an inscription read: “To my dear nephew, as a graduation gift.”
“Especially this inscription. If this robe belonged to one of the Yosrahim Emperor’s nephews—say, the Karl Ducal heir—I’d pay several times more than even Grand Duke Cloud’s relics. It’d be a historical artifact.”
His sudden claim made my eyes widen. Me, more valuable than Grand Duke Cloud? Unthinkable.
“Why?”
“Haven’t you heard? The recent incident where the Karl Ducal heir caused a rampage at the Divinum Grand Temple and died?”
Heard of it? I was the one who did it.
“I’ve heard.”
“Right. No one would dare commit such sacrilege in the holy Divinum Grand Temple. But the Karl Ducal heir went further—he took the reincarnated Great Saintess of Light hostage and turned the Divinum sanctuary into ruins. Now, the Karl Ducal heir will be remembered as the epitome of heresy. No greater villain will ever emerge.”
“Oh, really?”
“Yes. So, if this robe’s owner really was the Karl Ducal heir, it’d become the most valuable garment in history. Relics left by great villains always fetch higher prices than those of heroes. Just think—the cursed ceremonial robe of the heretical ducal heir. Doesn’t it just scream storytelling potential?”
My eyes rolled. If I left my unmistakable mark on this robe, it’d be worth thousands of gold leafs. Selling it now would be idiotic.
I quickly began repacking the bundle.
“Unwrap that bundle.”
A crisp female voice suddenly spoke from behind. As I tied the bundle, I slowly turned to look.
“Who are you…?”
The woman appeared to be in her late twenties, tall and striking, with her hair pinned high in an elaborate updo. She wore a short black dress that revealed her slender neckline—and far more. The dress dipped scandalously low, exposing everything from her full chest down to just below her navel. Black stockings, embroidered with golden patterns, hugged her hips, and the dress’s peacock-like hem flared behind her, paired with towering high heels.
‘Hooh. Art.’
Her overwhelming, provocative allure was breathtaking. A different kind of perfection compared to Shura.
Her slightly raised, jet-black hair gleamed sharply, her skin was snow-white, and her figure rivaled Shura’s in flawless symmetry. Her mesmerizing black eyes were accentuated by deep purple eyeshadow, and her crimson lips stood stark against her pale complexion. A perfect beauty. But what truly caught my attention was her voluptuous body. Every step she took was a seductive dance, her curves shifting so dramatically it was hard to believe she was human.
But something was off. Resting on her shoulder was a massive black double-bladed axe, held effortlessly in one hand. I worried her high heels might snap under its weight.
With an elegant motion, she placed a hand on the bundle.
“Hey. How likely is it that this robe belonged to the Karl Ducal heir?”
Bouton stroked his chin before answering.
“Eight or nine out of ten.”
“Why?”
“The owner of this robe had a well-trained physique. And the Karl Ducal heir was an exceptional swordsman.”
“Is that all?”
“There’s more. The golden threading is knotted in a lightning pattern.”
“So what?”
“This is the Year of Manubis, the Lightning Goddess, isn’t it? And the Karl Ducal heir graduated this spring.”
The woman undid the bundle and examined the contents, then smirked. Right—the golden knots formed lightning bolts, symbolizing Goddess Manubis.
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