I Killed The Main Characters

Chapter 215 Marionette [2]

The bell above the door of the Resource Emporium chimed as Noah stepped inside, his boots clicking against the polished wooden floor. The shop was a peculiar mix of cluttered and organized, its shelves lined with everything from rare potions to enchanted trinkets. The faint scent of aged parchment and herbal tinctures filled the air, and behind the counter stood Old Man Wilfred, hunched but alert, as though he'd been expecting him.

"Noah," Wilfred grunted, barely looking up as he scribbled something into a thick ledger. "Took you long enough. What brings you to my shop today?"

Noah strode forward, his hands stuffed into his coat pockets, his usual arrogant smirk firmly in place. "Our shop, Wilfred. Or have you forgotten I'm a shareholder now?"

Wilfred snorted, finally glancing up, his sharp eyes gleaming with something between amusement and irritation. "Shareholder, sure. But don't think that gives you the right to come in here like you own the place."

"I do own part of it," Noah shot back, leaning casually against the counter. "And I'm here to discuss business."

"Business?" Wilfred set down his quill and crossed his arms. "Fine, then. What do you want to know?"

"The past few months," Noah began, his tone brisk, "how has the shop been performing? Any notable increases in revenue? Customer feedback?"

Wilfred raised an eyebrow. "What is this, a board meeting? The shop's doing fine. Better than fine, actually. Sales have been steady, especially with those enchanted scrolls we started stocking. Students and professors alike have been buying them like hotcakes."

Noah nodded, tapping his chin thoughtfully. "Good. But steady isn't enough. We need exponential growth. Expansion, Wilfred."

"Expansion?" Wilfred barked out a laugh. "Boy, this is a little shop, not some empire. Where exactly do you think we'd expand to?"

"Outside the academy, of course," Noah replied, his eyes gleaming. "There are towns nearby, villages that could use supplies like the ones we offer. Even cities. Imagine Resource Emporium branches in the capital!"

Wilfred's laughter died, replaced by a scowl. "Branches? Are you mad? Do you have any idea how much work that would take? How much risk?"

Noah shrugged nonchalantly. "I'll figure it out. I always do."

Inwardly, he was less confident. He'd been toying with the idea of borrowing money from his father, but that was a delicate situation. His relationship with his family was strained, to say the least. Almost being disowned didn't exactly leave the door open for financial favors.

The two men stared at each other, the silence stretching between them like a taut rope. Finally, Wilfred sighed, rubbing his temple. "Fine. We'll revisit the idea next year. But don't think I'm making any promises."

"That's all I ask," Noah said smoothly, though his mind was already racing with plans.

Wilfred leaned against the counter, his sharp gaze softening slightly. "How've you been, boy? And I don't mean business-wise. I mean... you."

Noah blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in tone. "I'm... surviving," he said after a pause. "The academy's been taking it easy on me lately. I don't know if it's out of sympathy or fear. Probably both."

"And the curse?" Wilfred pressed, his voice low.

Noah's lips thinned. "It's not contagious, if that's what you're worried about. My life is... moving on as normal. Or as normal as it can with this thing hanging over me."

Wilfred studied him for a moment before nodding. "You ever wonder why she cursed you? The Witch of Envy, I mean."

Noah stiffened, his gaze narrowing. "Not particularly. What's there to wonder about? She's insane."

Noah tilted his head, intrigued. "And why's that? Isn't this supposed to be one of the top academies in the world?"

"Sure, it is," Wilfred said, leaning forward on the counter, "but swordsmen here are more like... generalists. They're good at a lot of things, but not truly exceptional at any one thing. If you're serious about learning the sword, you'll want to seek out the real masters."

"And where would I find them?" Noah asked, his curiosity piqued.

Wilfred leaned back, stroking his beard thoughtfully. "Great families, boy. Families that've dedicated generations to honing their swordsmanship. They don't just teach you how to swing a blade—they teach you the philosophy, the discipline, the art."

"Alright," Noah said, sitting up straighter. "Let's hear it. Which families are worth my time?"

Wilfred grinned, clearly enjoying the chance to lecture. "Well, for starters, there's the Ashenwalds. They're from the Western Continent, known for their dual-blade techniques. Swift, precise, deadly. Problem is, they're too rigid. If you don't fit into their mold, they'll discard you."

Noah nodded, filing the information away. "Next?"

"The Drakemores from the Southern Continent," Wilfred continued. "They're famous for their heavy swords and brute strength. Their style's all about overpowering your opponent, but it's not exactly subtle. Great if you want to smash things. Not so great if you're looking for finesse."

"I'm not a barbarian," Noah said dryly.

Wilfred chuckled. "Didn't think you were. Now, the Velmiris from the Eastern Continent—they're all about speed and agility. Their swordsmanship is almost like a dance. Beautiful to watch, but their techniques rely heavily on innate talent. If you're not naturally quick, don't bother."

"Let me guess," Noah said, smirking. "You're saving the best for last?"

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Wilfred's eyes gleamed. "Damn right I am. The Winterhearts, boy. From the Northern Continent. They're the pinnacle of swordsmanship across all four continents. Their techniques are as precise as they are devastating, and they teach not just the physical aspects of combat, but the mental and spiritual ones as well."

Noah leaned forward, intrigued. "What makes them so special?"

"Their lineage," Wilfred said, his voice dropping slightly, as if revealing a sacred secret. "For centuries, they've trained only the best. Their family estate in the Northern Continent is practically a fortress, and every member of the Winterheart family is a warrior to be reckoned with. They're said to carry the blood of ancient heroes."

"And they're open to outsiders?" Noah asked.

"Not easily," Wilfred admitted. "But with enough persistence—and the right connections—you might be able to convince them."

Noah sat back, his mind already racing with possibilities. The Northern Continent wasn't a place he'd considered visiting before, but now...

"After winter break," he said decisively, "I'll make the trip to the Northern Continent. If the Winterhearts are as good as you say, it'll be worth it."

Wilfred nodded approvingly. "Good choice, boy. Just remember, they won't be easy to impress."

Noah smirked. "I don't need to impress them. I just need them to teach me."

As the old man chuckled, Noah's thoughts turned inward. If he could secure training with the Winterhearts, it would be a significant step toward redeeming himself in his father's eyes.