Chapter 70: Bet (2)

Michael walked back towards the end of the line, trying not to limp from the jarring sensation in his right leg. He pat Rudy on the shoulder on the way past and wished him luck—though he felt like the guy didn’t need it.

Not after he’d shown how strong he was during the gravity punishment dished out by the professor earlier.

As Rudy walked up to the training dummy, the clamor died down as everyone turned their attention towards him. Even Professor Quinn quietly watched from the side, her eyes gleaming with interest.

Since Rudy was the only one able to properly withstand the gravity spell—many were interested in how he would perform against the training dummy.

Would he break the current record of the black-haired boy?

Seemingly unaware of the many sets of eyes on him, Rudy casually walked up to the training dummy and inspected it closely, poking it with a finger.

“Can this thing really take a hit from an Azure mage?” he muttered.

“Mr. Graves, was it?” Professor Quinn spoke up, seemingly getting impatient by his lack of initiative. “If you wouldn’t mind, please strike the training dummy as hard as you can.”

“Eh? As hard as I can?” he asked, showing a look of hesitation. “Is that really a good idea?”

“You need not worry about breaking the dummy, Mr. Graves. I can assure you that nothing you do will be enough to damage it.” Professor Quinn explained patiently.

“Hah, this kid thinks he can break something that can withstand the attack of an Azure mage?” Braydon called out, bursting into laughter.

“How absurd.”

A few of his lackeys joined in, using the opportunity to poke fun.

“I bet his strike won’t even cause a yellow color to appear,” another chimed in.

Rudy frowned at the jeers thrown his way, his fists clenching as a result. On his own at the front of the pack with all eyes on him, he looked rather pitiful—stirring something within Michael.

“I’ll take that bet,” Michael stepped out of his line, his gaze on Randolph who had just spouted nonsense. The guy was taken aback before his eyes burned with anger.

“What could you possibly bet with?” he spat, his curls bouncing. “I’ve already done my research on you—you are not part of a noble family.”

“Do I need to be part of a noble family to possess money?” Michael replied, raising his eyebrow. “Are you saying that commoners cannot possibly have gold?”

His words caused a ripple to flow throughout the class, leading to a lot of murmurs and whispers among the first-years.

Sensing his words being twisted, Randolph stammered. “Y-you know that’s not what I meant… I was just worried that your paltry possessions would not even warrant a worthwhile bet.”

Michael grinned in response, he was about to take out his gold coins when he saw movement in one of the other lines. Melody’s blue hair caught his eye—she was going to intervene.

However, he raised his hand, stopping her in place.

No, I won’t let her intervene in this, he said in his heart.

If Randolph were to lose money to him—a commoner—it would be far worse than losing to the Winterborne house. By keeping Melody out of this, he was setting up a situation where Randolph’s pride would not allow him to back down.

He saw Melody’s expression falter before she crossed her arms, letting out a harrumph—as if to say ’do whatever you want.’

Michael’s grin grew even wider as he flipped his hand, producing a heavy bag of coins from his storage ring. The jingle filtered through the group of students, causing the murmurs to become louder in response.

“I sure hope you won’t embarrass yourself by trying to bet with silver coins,” Braydon spoke up, wearing a sneer. “Silver is all but useless to us nobles.”

“Three hundred gold pieces,” Michael announced, his grin widening.

“H-how did a commoner get that much gold…?” Randolph stammered, his face turning pale.

The currency on the continent was made up of bronze, silver and gold coins. A hundred bronze made up a silver coin and a hundred silver made a gold coin.

Which mean three-hundred gold coins was thirty-thousand silver. For a young noble, this amount was not something that they could easily ignore.

This was Michael’s savings over the past three years working in the Winterborne manor. During this time, he’d remained frugal, not spending anything more than a few bronze coins on some essentials that the Lord didn’t provide.

“Michael, what are you doing?” Rudy hissed, clearly surprised at the amount he was willing to bet.

However, he ignored him—taking a few steps towards Randolph. “Well? Are you ready to put your money where your mouth is? Or were you just all talk before?”

Randolph’s expression turned grave, his face turning redder every second.

“I… I don’t have—”

“We’ll take the bet,” Braydon cut him off. He stepped forward, placing a firm hand upon the curly-haired Randolph’s shoulder. “But I wish to change the terms,” he continued.

Michael frowned, but he did not reject right away, waiting to hear what the guy had in store. If it was unfavorable, he wouldn’t hesitate to walk away.

“The commoner will face off directly against Jakob here,” Braydon turned, pointing to the black-haired teen with the forgettable face. This was the guy who held the current record—producing a deep yellow glow from the shield during his attempt.

“If you’re changing the terms, you’ll have to put up more capital,” Michael said, shaking his head. “Throw in a storage ring, and you’ve got yourself a deal.”

“Heh, done.”

“Is my class so boring that you need to resort to betting matches to keep yourselves entertained?” Professor Quinn’s icy tone came from nearby, causing everyone to freeze on the spot.

Shit, I completely forgot about this sadist! Michael cursed in his heart.

Her eyes shined as she stood merely a few feet away—her presence bearing down on the youths.

Just when it seemed she was going to unleash hell, her smile widened. “Hand me your wagers, I’ll be the intermediary for this bet.”

Eh?

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