Chapter Twelve: Crimson Gold

Sheets of rough parchment lay flat on the table, covered in unfamiliar hieroglyphs—twelve in total.
Count Dainab said, “Here is all my extraordinary knowledge: ten scrolls of magic, one of martial cultivation, and one with the recipe for the Spirit Awakening Pill.”
Compared to magic, martial knowledge was even more precious. Martial techniques refined the physical body, theoretically accessible to anyone, unlike magic, which demanded innate talent from the outset. However, the resources required to begin were higher than for magic.
Of course, martial arts also required talent; in essence, there was little difference from magic—one’s barrier lay at the starting threshold, the other at more advanced stages.
Qin Le casually selected several scrolls, tossed them to Aimoia and Orina, and, after confirming their authenticity, nodded slightly and signaled Iron Hammer to collect all the scrolls.
Just then, Aimoia suddenly spoke. “Wait, I think there’s a problem with this deal.”
Everyone paused and turned their focus to Aimoia.
Were these extraordinary secrets fake?
Qin Le was puzzled, and Count Dainab’s expression turned tense. Though he was certain his knowledge was genuine, facing a suspected high human of legend still left him uneasy.
Count Dainab asked, “Miss Aimoia, is there an issue? Is something wrong with my knowledge?”
“No, your knowledge is quite good. The martial scroll is even sufficient for the third tier,” Aimoia shook her head slightly, then changed tack. “The problem is the price. These scrolls aren’t worth so much gold.”
“According to world-accepted rates, first-tier knowledge is one gold coin, second-tier is one hundred, third-tier is one thousand. And this is martial knowledge—the price should be doubled,” Count Dainab retorted, his face darkening.
He had intended to show goodwill and repair relations by offering genuine secrets, but these country bumpkins didn’t recognize their value and even found them too expensive.
The accepted rate was an average, but such knowledge was rare, so prices often doubled or even tripled.
Count Dainab was considering whether to ask them to leave. The gold was impressive but not beyond refusal—barely tempting enough.
He even began to suspect these black-haired people weren’t high humans at all, but wildlings from some forest pretending to be.
Besides, high humans didn’t exist! Either they were frauds, or some undiscovered human breed.
They couldn’t even speak the common tongue—proof enough they were wildlings from some remote mountain forest!
“You’re right—if this were ordinary gold,” Aimoia said, raising her slender hand.
A heavy gold bar appeared in her palm as if from nowhere.
“Gold is the most precious currency in this world—across every nation and race. Not just for trade, but as the foundation for creating Relic-grade artifacts.”
“There’s also another gold—red gold. This gold makes the aura around it exceptionally active, the essential material for crafting kingly treasures and utterly irreplaceable.”
As she spoke, the gold bar in Aimoia’s hand began to glow, and pure aura gathered around it, encircling it.
Seeing this, everyone except the exploration team was left dumbstruck.
In this world, only red gold naturally gathered aura in this way.
Aimoia looked mockingly at Count Dainab. “Twelve bars of red gold, each longer than a palm, all for these few scrolls—you think that’s fair? Surely you don’t believe your extraordinary knowledge compares with the Dawn King’s Sword of Dawn, or the Twelve Royal Relics of the Lofel Empire?”
At first, Aimoia herself had assumed the gold was ordinary—after all, red gold was so precious it was never stored by the crate, let alone used to buy lower-tier secrets.
It was like using gold to buy dung!
She’d only meant to haggle, maybe reclaim a few bars, but after a simple test—damn, it really was red gold!
Had she not traveled widely in her youth, visited major cathedrals, and seen much of the world, she might have lost her composure.
Red gold! A whole crate of it! And they were offering it for low-tier secrets!?
Aimoia turned, emerald eyes fixed on Qin Le.
Such profligacy!

Qin Le was baffled. Why was she glaring at him all of a sudden?
Bang!
Count Dainab leapt to his feet, both hands trembling as he clutched the gold in the chest, eyes brimming with disbelief. “This is red gold?!”
He injected a trace of his aura into the metal; at once, pure aura converged upon it.
“Red gold, red gold! With this, I could become a grand duke—even a king! My… my…” Count Dainab was nearly deranged with glee.
Qin Le watched his wild expression, perplexed. Even if the gold was as precious as Aimoia claimed, wasn’t this reaction a bit much?
The next moment, Count Dainab abruptly punched himself in the face, so hard a tooth flew out.
He toppled back into his chair, and the butler rushed over in concern. “Are you alright, my lord?”
“It’s nothing.” Count Dainab waved him off, then looked up. The madness was gone from his face, though his eyes were still bloodshot.
“My apologies, everyone. I lost my composure. Miss Aimoia is right—there’s a problem with this deal. I only need one bar; please take the rest back.”
With trembling hands, Count Dainab extracted a single bar, then slowly pushed the case back, his entire face twisted in pain, movements so slow it was as if he were cutting flesh from his own body.
The scene was almost comical, but no one laughed. Even Aimoia had to concede—the count had some measure of integrity.
He knew what to take, and what to leave.
With Aimoia’s translation and explanation, Qin Le finally understood what was going on.
Simply put, the gold they had brought was unimaginably precious in this world—far beyond their expectations. Exaggerating only a little, a single crate of red gold could support a high-tier powerhouse in founding a nation.
Of course, it wasn’t truly enough—founding a country required more than strength, but also popular support and recognition from neighboring realms. Yet red gold was the foundation for kingly artifacts, the bedrock of new nations.
From the twelve royal relics of the mightiest human empire, to the Dawn Sword of the Dawn Kingdom—all were forged from red gold.
Is our gold so precious because of its purity?
After all, setting aside supernatural power, the technology of this era could hardly refine gold to their standard—99.99% purity.
“Count Dainab, I’d like to propose another deal,” Qin Le said, with Aimoia translating.
The previously dejected count snapped his head up eagerly. “Please, anything within my power, I shall do my utmost for you.”
Now his tone was filled with honorifics, more humble than he’d ever been before a king.
No matter what anyone said, he was now convinced: these were the legendary high humans, the proud race sung of in human legend for eons.
Who else could so casually offer a crate of red gold—treating it as if it were nothing more than common coin?
“I need you to help us gather materials for Spirit Awakening Pills, and as much extraordinary knowledge as possible. Once collected, deliver them to Orina’s domain.” As he spoke, Qin Le placed a gold bar on the table and pushed it toward Count Dainab.
“This is a deposit.”
Count Dainab caught the bar, and after Aimoia translated, stared at Qin Le in a daze.
Red gold as a deposit—to buy entry-level potion ingredients used only by novices? Who would do such a thing?!
Before he could recover, Qin Le shut the case and handed it to Iron Fist, then walked out of the dining hall.
The rest of the vanguard, their transaction complete, quickly followed, leaving Count Dainab behind, his worldview in shambles.
No one knew how long passed before Count Dainab, clutching two bars of gold, burst into wild laughter, then wept.
“High humans… ha ha ha! So this is what they’re like?! Ha ha ha!”
He laughed and cried, teetering on the edge of madness.

All his life, he had never obtained what he now held in his arms—how could he not laugh?
All his life, he had never possessed something so precious, yet to high humans it was worthless—how could he not weep?
…
Leaving the dim, damp castle behind, everyone felt a sense of relief.
The fortress had sacrificed all comfort for defense—living there was torment for the unaccustomed.
“At least we gained something.” Qin Le looked at the case full of extraordinary secrets in his hand and smiled sincerely.
Their gold was priceless here; their knowledge, in turn, was invaluable to the laws of this world.
“Aimoia, can you explain the ranks of extraordinary beings to me?”
Qin Le turned to the elven woman, but she didn’t answer. Instead, she stepped forward to block his path.
“Miss Aimoia?” Qin Le was puzzled.
Suddenly, Aimoia grabbed Qin Le’s collar and yanked him close—their faces nearly collided, their noses all but touching.
“Qin Le! Do you have any idea how wasteful you are?!” Aimoia gritted her teeth, her delicate features twisted in anguish.
Two enormous bars of red gold, squandered on such useless things.
“That’s red gold—two bars longer than a palm! Enough to buy the entire count’s domain! I could live in unimaginable luxury for the rest of my life, with dozens, even hundreds of servants attending me! It’s such a loss—an utter, bloody loss!”
“No, I’m going to steal it back tonight.” The beautiful elf inadvertently revealed her old profession.
Qin Le took a step back and pressed his right hand to Aimoia’s face, forcibly pushing her away, and motioned to the vanguard to lower their weapons. “Isn’t it just two big yellow fish? Even if it’s precious, it’s not even enough to buy an apartment in the imperial capital back home.”
“And what are you, a slave owner? To even say something like that.”
“Just two? Who talks like that?” Aimoia was completely shaken, waving her arms and shouting, “I’ll fight you for this!”
“Is it really necessary?” Qin Le pinned down the flailing elf, exasperated.
Even though Aimoia had explained the value of red gold, he couldn’t truly feel it. Gold was valuable in their world too, but to Qin Le, it was just a possession.
“If you want, I can make a request for you.”
Aimoia had helped them so much, and with the language barrier, they needed her to communicate in this new world. Giving her a bar or two seemed only fair—and a good way to win over their translator.
At his words, Aimoia instantly quieted, stepped back, and gave a deep bow. “Thank you.”
Qin Le tugged at the corner of his mouth. “You’re really not one for restraint, are you?”
“Restraint doesn’t fill my belly—what’s it worth, a few coppers?”
The group climbed into their carriage, and, escorted by a hundred knights, headed out of the city. Along the way, Orina stopped at the Hunter’s Guild and, as usual, took on a few high-paying tasks.
Once outside the city, the count’s butler thoughtfully provided five freight wagons for their journey, knowing the road to the princess’s domain would take at least half a day.
He even offered a hundred knights as escorts, though they declined.
And so, the group left Dainab City in grand procession, bound for the princess’s realm.