Chapter 17: The Price of Arrogance

"Fool, how could you do such a thing?"

In the Bonaparte family, the Great Elder was furious, scolding Desmond. Desmond, in turn, remained silent, his head bowed in fear. The Great Elder’s face turned purple with anger, his eyes wide and his beard bristling fiercely. He pointed a finger at Desmond and shouted.

"You fool! Remember, Franz is the son of the head of the Bonaparte family, not to mention that he is now the family’s genius. And you, you think you're clever, sending someone to assassinate the family's genius? Do you think Duss doesn’t know? Fool!"

Desmond, used to being arrogant, couldn't bear the fact that Franz had surpassed him. He resented Franz, feeling humiliated, so in his rage, Desmond hired an assassin to kill Franz. However, once his anger subsided, he remembered Franz's status and hurried to plead with the Great Elder. Desmond knelt down, clinging to the elder's legs.

"Grandfather, please save me. I acted out of anger. No, it was Franz who humiliated me! I don’t want to die. I still want to repay you!"

The Great Elder, massaging his temples, sat down. His son had died in battle, and now his only remaining family was this grandson. He had spoiled Desmond excessively, and though Desmond was arrogant and fond of play, he had always been filial towards his grandfather. That had been a small comfort. Watching Franz defeat Desmond so humiliatingly had made the elder want to crush Franz himself. But after the family’s assessments, he knew he couldn’t touch the boy anymore. Little did he expect that his grandson would dare to send an assassin after him. The elder sighed.

"Fine. I’ll use my old body to beg the head of the family. Hopefully, he’ll spare you for my sake. As for you, stay inside and train. Don’t cause me any more trouble."

With that, the elder swept out of the room, heading to find Duss. After all, Desmond was his only grandson—he couldn’t ignore the situation, even though he knew this was going to cost him dearly. Duss was just like his father—a cunning old fox.

"Oh, Elder, what brings you here today?"

Duss sat in his study, a smile playing on his lips as he looked at the Great Elder. For some reason, that smile sent a shiver down the elder’s spine. He bowed slightly.

"I’ve come to ask for forgiveness today. I hope the family head will show me mercy and forgive Desmond for his youthful foolishness."

"Forgiveness? What could Desmond have done wrong?"

Duss feigned surprise. The elder inwardly cursed the fox in front of him. Surprise? There wasn’t a shred of it on his face. Bitterly, the elder continued.

"Let’s not play games. Desmond sent someone to attack Franz—I’m sure the head of the family already knows. This was my grandson’s mistake. I’m willing to compensate the young master fully."

The elder carefully worded his statement, turning Desmond's assassination attempt into merely an attack. Duss, however, did not bother exposing the cover-up. Both sides knew what had really happened. Duss smiled coolly.

"So, how does the Great Elder plan to compensate?"

The elder’s heart bled. Bitterly, he replied.

"I’m willing to hand over the Medicine Hall as compensation for the young master. What do you think?"

The Medicine Hall was a family asset, but it had been under the Great Elder's control. Agreeing to hand it over was no small sacrifice, and surely it hurt deeply. But Duss shook his head.

"That won’t do. At the very least, it should be the Armory Hall and a million gold coins."

Duss was going for the kill. The Armory Hall, which produced weapons for the family, raked in huge profits annually. The Great Elder held a significant share of those profits. His face paled.

"Impossible! At most, I can offer the Medicine Hall and four hundred thousand gold coins."

…

Stepping out of the family head’s room, the Great Elder looked as though he had aged several years, his face lined with resignation. After much haggling, he had ended up handing over the Armory Hall and three hundred thousand gold coins. He sighed deeply as he walked away, his thoughts known only to himself.

Franz observed the seven bandits, searching for an opening to strike. Although he could see all seven, any attack would reveal his position, leaving him vulnerable to their counterattack. Having made his decision, Franz formed a hand sign.

"Shadow Clone Jutsu."

His shadow clone rushed at one of the bandits, while Franz formed another sign, bringing his thumb and forefinger to his lips.

"Fire Style: Fireball Jutsu!"

Boom!

The fireball struck the bandit head-on, turning him into a living torch.

"Ding, congratulations to the host for killing Bandit No. 7. You have been awarded 500 experience points and 70 silver coins."

"Number 7!"

The bandit beside him wasn’t slow to react, stabbing his dagger into the clone. With a pop, the clone dissipated into smoke. Franz, descending from above, struck the back of the bandit’s neck with the hilt of his dagger.

"Blunt Strike!"

"Ding, successful blunt strike."

Without pausing, Franz twisted the dagger and slashed across the bandit’s abdomen.

"Backstab!"