Devourer's Legacy: I Regressed With The Primordial Crest
Chapter 74: The Silent Monastery(1)

Chapter 74: The Silent Monastery(1)

In Lord Augustus’s office, three people sat around the heavy wooden table.

One was Lord Augustus himself, looking stern and serious as always. The second was Renard, who seemed perfectly relaxed despite the tension in the room. The third person was the old man, who still hadn’t found the time to cut his long, wild beard.

"You look like a drunken bum, old man," Renard said with a grin. "Please get a haircut. I’ll pay for it."

Hobbren stroked his beard thoughtfully. "I’m keeping the beard because my daughter likes it. She used to pull on it all the time when she was little. What if she doesn’t remember me anymore without it?"

"I’m more worried about whether she’ll be able to recognize you with all that hair covering your face," Renard shot back.

While the two of them were bickering like old friends, Lord Augustus was staring at the leather pouch placed on his table with wide, shocked eyes.

"You!" he called out loudly, making both of them stop their argument.

"Did you really extort 20,000 gold from your fiancée? Are you completely out of your mind, Renard?"

He had just learned what Renard had done at Gia’s Castle, and he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. The sheer amount of money was staggering, but more than that, he was worried about the consequences of such actions.

"Don’t worry, Grandpa," Renard said casually. "She just wants to cancel our engagement. You don’t need to worry about it."

"What?!"

That seemed to make Lord Augustus even angrier than before. His face turned red, and his hands clenched into fists.

"Renard, do you understand what you’ve done? House Grace isn’t some minor family you can just insult! And breaking an engagement... the political consequences alone could..."

"Grandpa, calm down," Renard interrupted. "Trust me, this is actually the best outcome for everyone involved. Elenor and I were never going to work out anyway."

Augustus rubbed his temples, feeling a headache coming on. "Explain to me exactly what happened. And don’t leave out any details."

Renard gave him a simplified version of events—how Elenor had tried to have him killed, how the old man had dealt with her hired mercenaries, and how the money was basically compensation for the trouble.

"She hired assassins to kill you?" Augustus’s voice was dangerously quiet.

"Twenty-eight of them, actually," Renard said. "But Hobbren here handled it pretty easily."

The old man just shrugged like killing nearly thirty people was no big deal.

Augustus was quiet for a long moment, processing this information. Finally, he sighed heavily.

"Well, if she tried to kill you first, then I suppose the engagement was already over anyway. But 20,000 gold... that’s an enormous amount of money, Renard. What do you plan to do with it?"

This was the moment Renard had been waiting for.

"I want to invest it," he said confidently.

"Invest it? In what?"

"There’s an organization called the Sentients. I want to put the money there."

Augustus frowned. "The Sentients? Aren’t they the ones working on golem research? That’s a waste of time and money, Renard. Everyone knows golem magic is useless."

Renard knew his grandfather would react this way. Currently, mages could summon golems using magic, but maintaining and controlling them used extreme amounts of essence. And even then, the golems were slow, weak, and inefficient. Most people thought it wasn’t worth the effort.

But Renard knew that was going to change. The Sentients were working on a way to use beast cores to power golems instead of pure essence. If they succeeded—and he knew they would—golems could become incredibly useful for construction, defense, even warfare.

If he remembered correctly, they were going to successfully discover this method soon. Their breakthrough would be so important that they’d grow into a full magic tower within five years, becoming a powerful organization with influence across the continent.

"Trust me, Grandpa," Renard said simply. "This is a good investment."

"Trust you? Based on what?" Augustus stared at his grandson suspiciously. "What makes you think some golem researchers are worth 20,000 gold?"

Renard had already prepared for such questions. "I’ve been doing research, and I think they’re going to make a breakthrough soon. It’s a calculated risk, grandpa."

"You want to throw 20,000 gold at some researchers who might discover something useful?" Augustus shook his head. "That sounds like gambling to me."

"It’s an investment," Renard corrected. "If I’m right, this money will return several times over. Plus, having connections with a new magic tower would be incredibly valuable for our family."

"And if you’re wrong?"

"Then I lose money that I got from someone who tried to kill me. It’s not like it’s coming out of the family treasury."

Augustus was quiet for a long time, thinking it over. Finally, he sighed again.

"You can’t make this kind of investment yourself. You’re too young, and you don’t have the legal authority. If you really want to do this, I’ll have to make the investment on your behalf."

"That’s fine," Renard said quickly. "I just need you to trust me on this."

"Trust you? Renard, lately you seem to know about everything before it happens. First you knew where to find the Martial King, then you knew about these poachers with the Keth’mor, now you’re talking about magical research like you’ve been studying it for years. What’s going on?"

Renard met his grandfather’s suspicious gaze steadily, trying not to avert his eyes. "I’ve been doing a lot of reading and thinking since my awakening. Maybe almost dying changed my perspective on things."

It wasn’t technically a lie, even if it wasn’t the whole truth.

Augustus studied his face for another long moment, then nodded slowly. "Fine. I’ll make the investment. But if this fails, you’re going to owe me an explanation for all these lucky guesses of yours."

"Deal," Renard said with relief.

With that settled, the room fell into silence. The attention obviously turned to the Martial King, who had been listening to their conversation with patient interest.

It was time to talk about his daughter.

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