Step.
Seven wandered through the plaza with his hoodie pulled low over his head just to be safe, though not that anyone actually knew what he looked like in person.
'Where is it again…?'
He thought as he glanced around.
He barely escaped the room earlier, given that two knights were guarding the door.
But to his convenience, though the room was on the second floor yet the wall had those old jagged ledges.
It took some effort but he managed to climb down without anyone noticing.
Step.
The plaza of Othrelis Kingdom was vast.
After a minute of walking, he stopped in front of a building.
It was not as grand compared to the buildings beside it with gold trims and fancy banners, but it stood out on its own way since the shape was circular from base to roof like a giant coin placed upright in the middle of the street.
The paint was green though, and a simple banner hung loose on the door with a symbol of Zevi (basically a dollar symbol, but instead of letter S, it is Z) and a name written in plain letters:
[ Ael Merchanty ]
He looked up at it.
"Found it."
***
Inside the Ael Merchanty
A young man with green eyes and matching green hair stood stiffly in front of someone who looked just like him but only older and looked more annoyed.
"You're saying… you wagered our profits in a competition?"
"..."
"Lieke Neven Ael!"
The older man snapped and yelled at his son.
"Look at me. You wagered our profits in—"
"Yes, …Father."
The older man did not say a word.
And neither did his son, Lieke.
Lieke just lowered his head to avoid his father's scrutinizing gaze. After all, in their family, gambling was almost like a curse word.
For generations, the Aels made their name through fair trade and sharp deals and not through bets and uncertain risks. His father had drilled that into Lieke since he was old enough to count coins.
'Profits should come from trade, not chance, and every Zevi we earn must come from value not from luck.'
…Is what his father always used to say.
And here he was… betting their savings on something that had no guaranteed return.
He clenched his fists behind his back.
"But Father, I—"
Creak.
The front door of Ael Merchanty opened and cut Lieke off mid-sentence.
Step.
A frail figure walked in like he owned the place while he casually walked past the doorway and sat on the nearest sofa without saying a word.
The older man's brows twitched. His eyes subtly widened as they landed on the boy with espresso-brown hair and different-colored eyes.
Lieke, however, was not surprised. He just stepped forward and introduced the young man.
"Ah, right. Father, this is—"
"Seven Hart."
But Seven introduced himself instead.
"I was the one who told your son to place that bet."
He let out a soft breath and closed his eyes for a moment.
Revealing his identity this early was not ideal. But with how hot-tempered the old man seemed, the name Hart was probably the only thing that could keep this conversation from exploding.
Besides, this was a merchant household.
They cared more about profit than politics, thus he doubted they would go shouting his name to the streets.
"...?!"
"...!!"
Both Lieki and his father froze while looking confused and stunned at the same time.
Seven did not explain.
He had no intention of getting caught up in a family drama or giving some long-winded backstory.
There was a faster and a lot simpler way to settle this.
Sigh.
He looked straight at the old man.
"Lend me 7,00 Zevi."
Seven said.
"I'll join the wager myself."
"HUHHH?!!"
***
In the Othrelis Kingdom
Step. Step.
Two figures walked amidst a growing crowd on the pathway of the plaza.
Lieke walked slightly behind who was carrying a pouch strapped to his side.
Seven walked ahead with his hoodie still on and hands inside his pockets.
They were headed toward the largest structure in the district.
The Jousting Stadium.
It was the place made for the Kingdom's competitions, or specifically, a colosseum-like building towered over the surrounding rooftops with a massive circular structure made of bricks and blackstone beams.
Crowds swarmed outside.
Merchants shouted prices.
Kids ran around waving wooden swords.
Knights in uniform directed the flow of people into separate entrances: one for nobles, one for competitors, and another for the common spectators.
Most of all, wager booths surrounded the area with lines of people placing bets and shouting predictions.
It was a clash between two Zenith alumni and the top graduates from the continent's only Academy.
Eden Hart, Batch 71.
Theondr Zchwarzdgzielt, Batch 69.
Normally, most would bet for Theondr to win. He was older, more experienced, and had actually fought on the frontlines during the last war against the sixth continent.
His combat record was not just theory, but it was blood-soaked reality.
But Eden… was Eden.
The second greatest talent of the century.
A name that echoed even beyond the continent's borders.
So despite the odds, despite the logic of who graduated first… people flocked to Eden's betting booth.
Step.
But instead of following the line to Eden Hart's booth, Seven turned left towards the one marked with Theondr's banner.
Lieke glanced at him.
"Is it… really okay? You're Eden's brother, right? Shouldn't you be betting on her?"
"That's exactly why I'm betting against her."
"Huh?"
"Because she's my older sister."
Nonsense.
That was not the real reason, of course. He was betting against Eden because he already knew the result. After all, he had read this scene once before as a reader.
This entire match would be just like history repeating itself.
Step.
They reached the booth.
A woman in a dark teal uniform with her hair tied in a neat bun greeted them. Her expression was a bit tired, and it was evident that she was clearly not expecting any customers on this side.
"Welcome. This is the booth for Sir Theondr."
She gave a polite nod, then glanced at the board beside her where only one name was written under Theondr's bettors.
"Are you sure you're placing your bet here? Most are going for Lady Eden, and—"
"Seven hundred Zevi."
Seven cut her off mid-sentence.
He looked her in the eye.
"...Pardon?"
"Seven hundred for Theondr."
"Six… Six hundred for me. Also for Theondr."
Lieke added.
The woman blinked as it was evident that she was taken aback by the two unhealthy looking young men, no older than fifteen, placing such huge amounts for the losing participant.
But it was not like the bet was restricted for childrens.
And given their attire, they also seemed to originate from a wealthy family within the Kingdom.
"A-alright then. Please fill these out."
She handed them each a small parchment sheet. It was basic as it was just a simple form asking for name, age, and your chosen competitor. More like a survey than a transaction record.
Seven filled the form.
Name: Seven
He did not write his last name.
But before handing it back, he flipped the form over and scribbled something quietly on the back.
If I win, please put the payout to the Zevi card instead.
There was not even a field for that, but he did not care. He wrote it anyway and slid it across the desk.
"Sir, there's no guarantee of payouts through Zevi cards. We usually—"
"You'll make an exception."
She opened her mouth to argue, but closed it instead.
"Very well. I'll make a note."
After all, it was highly unlikely for Theondr to win the match against the renowned second greatest talent and a prodigy.
Thump!
The transaction was finalized and stamped.
"Let's go."
"Okay."
Seven and Lieke turned and walked away.
But instead of heading inside the stadium to watch the match, they both walked towards the entry gate to leave.
"We're not going to watch?"
"Watch?"
Seven ran a rand through his hair.
"The winner's already decided. What's the point?"
"...I see."