NOVPUB“A bet... that sounds interesting.”
Claude, now wearing a relaxed smile, paused dramatically. Ghislain raised an eyebrow and asked again.
“So? Are you in or not?”
“Of course... How could I miss such a wager? After all, the blood of a gambler flows in my veins.”
“Do you even have anything left to wager? I’m not accepting the rest of your lifespan, just so you know.”
“I’m well aware.”
Though others didn’t know, Claude was already out of years to wager. Through countless reckless bets, he had lost his remaining lifespan so many times that he now owed 278 years of servitude. He’d even lost 10 years over a silly water-drinking contest. This was simply the result of betting on anything and everything.
Claude was keenly aware that his remaining lifespan held less value than the flour lying around the domain’s mills.
So, this time, he decided to wager something else.
“What about Alfoy and the mages? Heh heh.”
The mages, unlike Claude, still operated under their original contracts. Though they too occasionally indulged in gambling, they had never bet with Ghislain before.
Claude’s suggestion meant putting the mages’ lives on the line instead of his own.
Ghislain nodded without hesitation.
“The mages, huh? That works. Their long lifespans make them valuable, and their power increases with each circle. I’ll accept that.”
“That’s not all,” Claude added, his grin widening.
“There’s more?”
“Of course! You know there are people preparing to leave, right?”
“Oh... Do you think you can convince them to join in?”
“I’ll persuade them to take part in this wager. Leave it to me.”
“They’re a decent addition, I suppose. Alright, what do you want out of this? If you’re upping the stakes this much, it must be something big.”
Claude squirmed theatrically, his voice dripping with false modesty.
“Oh, should I even say this aloud?”
“Just spit it out. What is it you want?”
“Well, freedom would be obvious, right? You can erase all 278 years in one go.”
“That much I can grant. Is that all? Do you want to return home as a free man?”
“No, no. Give me a domain. I want to be a lord too.”
“Pfft!”
“...”
Ghislain barely stifled a laugh, earning a glare from Claude.
“Ahem. You’re serious? You want your own piece of land?”
“Not from you, though,” Claude said firmly.
“Why not?”
“Do you think I want to take land from you, knowing it’ll drag me into your wars?”
The future was clear: Ghislain would inevitably clash with the Dukedom. Receiving a domain from Ghislain would mean becoming his vassal and being forced into the conflict. Even if he managed to avoid fighting, the Dukedom’s victory would ensure his death for siding with Ghislain.
Ghislain tilted his head in curiosity.
“Then how do you expect me to give you land? Should I snatch some for you?”
“No, no. Buy me a small domain in the Turian Kingdom. Nothing fancy, just something far from the Shadow Mountains. I want to live in peace, after all.”
In the Turian Kingdom, domains could be bought and sold legally as long as the local laws and agreements with existing lords were observed.
Claude had no intention of simply taking money and retiring. He’d tasted the power of authority and knew money alone wasn’t enough.
He dreamed of living out his days as a minor lord, enjoying a comfortable life without worries. Unlike Ghislain, Claude had no ambition to expand his territory or wage wars. He just wanted a quiet life, free from fear and strife.
Ghislain nodded, acknowledging Claude’s unusual ambition.
“Fine. If you win, I’ll get you a small domain in Turian. Not that it’ll happen, of course.”
“Ah, my lord, don’t go back on your word later. Let’s set the terms: a one-month trial. The new ration must sustain its users for a month, leaving them combat-ready at the end.”
“Agreed. Now, go gather the people willing to join the wager.”
“Understood. Just give me a moment—I’ll convince them in no time.”
With a gleeful expression, Claude darted off. While he personally had nothing left to wager, he was now betting other people’s lives. The thought of walking away unscathed, pocketing the rewards, and leaving this domain forever made his steps lighter.
Watching Claude’s retreating back, Ghislain let out a small chuckle.
“Lifelong slave mages... now that’s a bet worth taking.”
Alfoy was in a corner of the construction site, gambling. Surprisingly, his opponent was none other than Piote, the domain’s famously kind-hearted man.
Piote didn’t actually enjoy gambling. He often donated all the money he received to help the domain’s less fortunate residents.
While food shortages were no longer a problem thanks to the domain’s abundant supplies, there were still many who couldn’t afford basic necessities or medicine. Piote often spent his own funds to assist such people.
Unfortunately, his earnings weren’t enough to help everyone. So, he occasionally sought support from others, even those like Alfoy.
“What? You want me to donate? You’re asking the great ‘Blazing Alfoy’ to hand over his hard-earned money?”
“No, not taking. I’m just asking if you could help some of the struggling residents...”
“I am the one struggling the most! Do you think it’s easy being an unpaid slave? A future successor to the Tower, working for nothing!”
Alfoy flailed his arms dramatically, though everyone knew he had been quietly hoarding money. He earned small amounts by helping residents with tasks or winning bets from others.
Still, Piote knew better than to push. Charity should be voluntary, not forced.
“I see. I’ll ask someone else, then.”
As Piote turned to leave, looking dejected, Alfoy stopped him.
“There’s... a way to make it happen.”
“What is it?”
“I can’t just give you money for free. There’s no reason to.”
Piote tilted his head in confusion. Why would anyone need a reason to help those in need?
Alfoy straightened up and declared with a stern expression,
“A mage doesn’t hand out money without reason. We are rational, logical beings. So, I’ll give you a chance to earn it.”
“And how would I do that?”
“Through gambling. Win, and the money’s yours.”
Piote immediately shook his head.
“While the scriptures don’t explicitly forbid gambling, its roots lie in greed. Thus, it’s inherently sinful.”
“...You’re hopelessly naive.”
“Excuse me?”
“You’re not gambling for personal greed, are you? You’re doing it to help others in need.”
“...Fine.”
“Then it’s not greed—it’s a noble challenge, right? You’re doing this to help those in need. Isn’t it a greater sin to ignore a way to help them just because you’re hesitant?”
“....”
Something about this logic felt off, but it was oddly convincing. After a moment of contemplation, Piote clenched his small fists and nodded firmly.
“Alright, I’ll try.”
Helping others wasn’t about whether the method was right or wrong—it was about being true to oneself.
Alfoy smirked slyly.
“Good choice. Since you’re not familiar with gambling, let’s keep it simple: we’ll play odd or even. All you have to do is guess whether the number of coins in my hand is odd or even. Easy, right?” 𝘯𝑜𝘷𝘱𝘶𝘣.𝘤𝘰𝑚
“Yes.”
Piote nodded innocently. However, the onlookers watching the scene from the sidelines shook their heads in dismay.
Odd-or-even was a game Piote had no chance of winning.
Even Cain, one of the gambling regulars, and the mages avoided playing odd-or-even against Alfoy. In this game, Alfoy was the undisputed champion of the entire domain.
Unaware of this, Piote began the game with his usual earnest expression.
Alfoy clicked his tongue as Piote pulled out his meager savings.
“Tsk, look at how little he has. The lord must give him a fair amount, but he probably handed it all to those struggling folks. Poor guy. He’s going to end up in tears when he loses it all.”
Piote’s pile consisted of only a few silver coins and even fewer copper ones.
But Alfoy, the self-proclaimed Blazing Gambler, wasn’t one to show mercy, even to such a pitiful opponent.
Piote, cautious by nature, wagered only a single coin at a time.
“Odd!”
“Even!”
“Odd!”
“Even!”
No matter how many times Piote guessed, he lost every single round.
Of course, he couldn’t win. Alfoy was cheating using magic.
“Heh heh, there isn’t a soul in this domain who can break my spell.”
After being introduced to gambling by Claude, Alfoy had quickly risen to become a skilled cheat. His dedication had led him to develop a unique spell tailored specifically for odd-or-even games.
By combining teleportation magic, light-weighting spells, and gravity manipulation, Alfoy had created a foolproof cheating technique. Though it was cobbled together from existing magic, it was effective nonetheless.
Every time he played odd-or-even, Alfoy secretly enchanted the small coins in his hand. If his opponent guessed correctly, he could discreetly open his hand just enough to let the coins vanish into his sleeve before showing the result. The speed was almost instantaneous, akin to teleportation.
This was why Alfoy always wore long-sleeved robes, even in summer.
Unaware of the deception, Piote continued to lose every single round.
“Why... Why can’t I win even once?”
No matter how many times he guessed the same outcome, it never worked. It defied all common sense.
Cain, who had been watching from the sidelines, clicked his tongue and whispered,
“He’s cheating. Using magic. You’ll never beat him.”
“Ch-cheating? Give me back my money!” Piote exclaimed, his voice trembling with frustration.
Alfoy’s voice thundered in response.
“Cheating? How dare you accuse me of such a thing! Where’s your proof? I don’t cheat! How can you, a priest, mistrust people so easily? Do you think it’s right for a priest to go around accusing others without evidence?”
“N-no, it’s just... it doesn’t make sense...”
“What doesn’t make sense? You just suck at it, that’s all! Did I hold a knife to your throat and force you to guess wrong?”
Alfoy’s indignant response left Piote speechless. He lacked the ability to expose Alfoy’s trickery, leaving him powerless to refute the accusations.
“I... I’ll stop here.”
Piote couldn’t afford to lose the rest of his meager savings. But Alfoy, with a mockingly disappointed expression, sneered,
“Giving up so easily? How can you call yourself a man? Aren’t you going to help those in need? Guess you lack determination. Is that really the will of your goddess?”
The taunt struck a nerve. Piote had already endured endless teasing about being too feminine. Losing his money and now being called weak was too much to bear.
And giving up now? He only had a little money left, which wouldn’t be enough to help anyone. If he was going to lose it all anyway, why not take one last shot?
“Let’s go again!”
“Heh heh, that’s how you get hooked.”
Alfoy smirked.
“Got myself a new sucker.”
He was determined to strip Piote of every last coin. Though it wasn’t much money, it was enough to lift Alfoy’s spirits for the day.
“Odd!”
“Even!”
“Odd!”
Piote kept losing. He didn’t win a single round. Alfoy didn’t even bother hiding his cheating anymore.
“Ugh... Ugh...”
As Piote lost nearly all his remaining money, his eyes began to well up with tears.
It wasn’t just losing the money—it was the sense of injustice. He felt powerless, unable to expose the obvious fraud, and ashamed of his own naivety.
He wished he had spent the little money he had left helping others instead of falling into this trap. Now he understood why people warned against gambling.
“Goddess... please...”
With only a single silver coin left, Piote closed his eyes tightly and began to pray.
“Please... let me win this one.”
Piote wasn’t praying for himself, nor was he praying to punish the cheater. His only wish was to help the struggling people who depended on him, even just a little.
With his eyes shut tight, Piote poured all his energy into his prayer.
“Goddess... please... and I’m sorry for calling him... uh, that jerk. Forgive me for such thoughts.”
For the first time in his life, Piote prayed with such fervor. Regret over his choices, repentance for indulging in gambling, and his burning desire to help others—all of it swirled together, igniting his spirit.
Then, suddenly—
Whhoooom!
An intense wave of divine energy erupted from Piote, radiating outward.
Alfoy, watching with mild amusement, let out a scoffing laugh.
“Oh, come on. All the praying in the world won’t save you. Want to know why?”
Smirking, Alfoy began releasing his magic to counter the divine energy emanating from Piote.
Boom!
The divine and magical energies clashed, sending powerful ripples through the air. Alfoy raised his head arrogantly and declared,
“I am the god of odd-or-even. Not even your goddess can beat me!”
The audacity to claim divinity in front of a priest was staggering. Alfoy’s blasphemous words, something even a dark mage might hesitate to say, would have angered anyone else.
But Piote didn’t react. He simply continued his prayer, pouring all his pure and untainted faith into it.
That faith, unyielding and radiant, began to resonate with something.
“Oh, are you going to make your bet or... wait, what?”
Rrrruuuummmbbllle!
Out of nowhere, dark clouds gathered in the previously clear sky, casting an ominous shadow over the area.
A beam of light suddenly burst forth from Piote’s head, shooting straight into the heavens.
Fwooosh!
The clouds split apart, revealing a brilliant golden radiance that seemed to connect Piote to the heavens themselves.
Everyone froze in place. Alfoy and the mages stared, their mouths agape.
This phenomenon wasn’t just extraordinary—it was legendary.
“C-Ch-Channeling?”
The term tumbled out of Alfoy’s lips, barely audible.
Channeling.
A sacred phenomenon in which a chosen saint connects directly with the divine will, borrowing a fraction of the goddess’s power to enact her will on earth. It was said that only saints selected by the goddess herself could channel. Through this connection, the saint could receive divine revelations.
Unlike the fabricated miracles spread by Ghislain and Porisco, this was the real thing—a genuine act of divinity.
For most, witnessing a true channeling was a once-in-a-lifetime event, even for scholars who had dedicated their lives to studying such phenomena.
Yet here it was, unfolding over something as trivial as odd-or-even.
Whhhooooooom!
Piote, still with his eyes shut, began to rise into the air, his body radiating immense holy power. His pink hair shimmered, slowly transforming into a luminous silver.
The sight left Alfoy stammering in disbelief.
“W-W-Why... why would the goddess... interfere in something as stupid as odd-or-even?”
He muttered under his breath, his arrogant facade crumbling as he stared at Piote, who now seemed like a figure from legend.
One thing was clear: nothing about this domain was normal.
