Chapter 479 - 481: Traget

Damon could understand the silence. Honestly, he had expected it.

But he was strapped for cash—and he had a lot of junk he’d picked up from Lysithara that wasn’t working or was just half-broken. Still, due to the fact that they originated from the Path of Kings, their market value was insanely high.

Lysithara, back in the First Epoch, was a hotbed of innovation, knowledge, and magic. It had shaped the world—training heroes, kings, and legends alike.

Out of all the buried gems in history, objects from Lysithara had the highest value.

Too bad almost no one could enter Lysithara.

And those who did?

Never came back.

It was a death zone.

Damon had survived there for months—though that was mostly because of luck. And because they had Valerie, one of the last rulers of the fallen city.

He had seen the fate of those who didn’t make it out.

Even the greedy didn’t dare venture into Lysithara.

Not that they could—the gates leading there from Valtheron were guarded by two behemoths at fifth class.

And that was just the beginning.

Damon could hear the whispers from the adventurers around him. Most were higher ranked than him. He didn’t care.

Some of them were probably greedy, sure.

But that just meant some of them might die.

"Lysithara? You think she meant that same Lysithara?"

He heard a sneer.

"How many Lysitharas do you know, Oakland? It’s the Path of Kings..."

Others joined in, voices low.

"He must’ve found it somewhere else. No way he went to the Lysithara..."

"Some ancient probably took it from there before it fell. Ended up in another ruin."

A gruff voice from a one-armed man muttered, "I wonder what kind of ruin this lucky bastard got into. Probably swimming in zeni..."

Damon ignored them all.

He calmly pushed down his hood, shooing away the curious red squirrel trying to peek out.

The receptionist bowed her head, her tone becoming formal.

"Sorry, this is just routine, but could you share where you obtained this artifact? I’ll have to submit a guild report..."

Damon nodded slowly. He didn’t mind.

"I got it in the Forbidden Library."

She blinked, reaching under the desk and pulling out a crystal orb.

"I’m sorry, where exactly is that? Do you mean the Aramanic Library?"

"No," Damon replied coldly. "I mean the library in Lysithara."

Silence swept the guild hall.

Then came the murmurs.

"...Is he serious?"

"No way. He’s obviously lying."

"If he went to Lysithara, I’ll eat my own balls."

Damon didn’t care about them. His attention was only on the receptionist. She looked doubtful at first, but then—

As if recalling something, she glanced back at his hooded face, then quickly reached beneath the counter and pulled out a newspaper.

Her face palmed.

The same hood. A young man standing beside the Grand Duke in a photograph.

"Y-You’re the Ascendant..."

Damon frowned.

"I don’t like to call myself that. The last Ascendant was a great person. I’d only disgrace the name."

Her eyes flickered.

"So humble..."

She glanced toward the peanut gallery of adventurers, then took the artifact and gestured to a side door.

"Please follow me, sir."

Damon noticed the cold sweat forming on her brow.

’Being a celebrity has its perks...’

Though that wasn’t why she was sweating.

It was because recently, the Brightwater family had put immense political clout behind the Ascendant title—and pressure on organizations across Valerion.

As long as he claimed the title, Damon was bound to get preferential treatment.

She nearly sniffled, holding her tears back.

’I almost got in trouble... thank the goddess I didn’t doubt him too quickly...’

As he walked away, he heard the whispers follow him.

"So that’s the Ascendant..."

"I heard he killed a rank four Beldam with a single strike."

"That’s nothing. He faced Ashergon the dragon—and lived."

"Bullshit. Just noble propaganda."

"I even heard he trained with the ghost of a First Epoch Ascendant..."

"He’s gotta be loaded... full of treasures..."

"Easy pickings... jejejeje..."

Damon ignored them and followed her inside.

The room was softly lit and cooled by magic—a sharp contrast to the noisy hall.

He sat on a plush sofa.

The receptionist gave a respectful bow.

"I shall fetch the appraiser. He’ll be with you shortly."

She left, and soon after, a maid entered with a trolley of refreshments, setting it down silently before leaving.

As soon as the door shut—

The red squirrel burst out of his hood and jumped on the table.

Right behind it came a raven, wings flaring as it tried to knock the squirrel off its perch.

Damon sighed.

"That’s enough, you two. Be on your best behavior."

The raven cawed in disdain. The squirrel tried to cozy up to him.

Damon shook his head.

Until—

The squirrel muttered something about the people outside having hostile intent.

"...Can we steal their nuts?"

Damon stared at the testicle-obsessed squirrel and sighed again.

"Not yet."

The raven cawed louder in disgust.

The fool knew nothing.

Unlike him, the raven had known Damon longer. He could tell just from the look in his eyes.

A bloodbath was coming.

While the two familiars bickered, Damon waited.

He was curious.

He wanted to see how this appraiser would stack up against his own skill.

His ability already told him this artifact was junk. Broken. Worthless.

"I wonder what he’ll say. Maybe they’re buying it just for its historical value..."

Sure enough, the door opened.

A short, bearded man walked in. His vibrant green outfit and shifty eyes gave him away instantly.

A leprechaun.

Damon recognized the race at once.

’Great. A Trickster.’

Greedy, no-good swindlers with strange magical abilities.

They were infamous for ripping people off, but they had a keen eye for treasures.

Which was why they were often made treasurers, appraisers, and guild financiers.

The leprechaun sat across from him, stroking his beard with a sly grin.

"Welcome, welcome, young hero. I am... Kudi Kudi."

Damon nodded slowly.

’He’s already trying to butter me up...’