The Usurer
Upon entering the main castle building, Rocher handed Noah over to a maid.
"Please take care of him; he's a guest to see the Count," Rocher said, bowing to the maid.
"It's my honor," the maid curtsied.
Noah appraised the maid. She was young, dressed in a black dress with a white apron to keep the dust at bay, and her hair tied neatly at the back of her head. Though a servant, her demeanor mirrored the nobles she served, her movements meticulous and formal.
Once Rocher departed, the maid gestured dismissively as if to sweep away Noah's gaze.
"Follow me," she commanded.
Noah paced swiftly after her through castle corridors constructed from roughly hewn stone, while the walls were polished with care. Half a dozen copper sconces hung with barely lit candles. Display stands meant for marble busts stood forgotten, and the walls were stripped of art, leaving the castle seeming sparse and barren, a stark contrast to Noah's expectations.
"Has it always been like this here?" Noah observed the diamond-shaped windows casting a milky light that made the drifting dust dance.
"Always been how?" The maid was puzzled.
"I thought it would be more... lavish."
"You don't understand; our Count is a very frugal man. If you had his wealth, with an annual annuity of 750 gold coins, what would you do?"
750 gold coins! With one gold coin enough for a piglet, that's over seven hundred piglets. And in a year, their numbers would double, endless pork for frying, roasting, curing...
"Buy pigs," Noah blurted out.
The maid chuckled. "My goodness, which countryside did you hail from?"
"Is there a problem?"
"If it were Lord René, the money would go straight into the treasury."
"That doesn't sound any wiser than my plan."
"These funds are vital reserves. Useless ornaments sold for gold mean more to lend."
"Lend? As in giving money to others?"
"Exactly, at five percent interest per month, then you simply collect," the maid explained.
Five percent monthly meant a hundred gold could earn five more each month; within two years, the loan would pay for itself. Noah mulled it over; it did sound lucrative.
As they spoke, Noah pondered the Count's wealth stashed away while the castle lay unadorned.
"Why not refurbish the castle with all that wealth?"
"Aye, as I said, we save to lend more," the maid insisted.
"So, we just pile up gold in the treasury? What's the point if it's never used?"
"Not used? Think! With such wealth, the Count's lineage needn't worry about money. They could do anything—buy lands, raise armies, build manors, arrange marriages, without the burden of coin. See, the Count is that considerate. He takes good care of us too, with tailored clothes and jewelry," the maid replied with pride.
"I see," Noah contemplated with a nod.
They arrived at the bathhouse—a spacious room dimly lit. At the center stood a stone hearth with a large cauldron boiling water above fierce flames. Below was a wooden tub large enough for several to stand.
The maid ascended a ladder, tipping the cauldron with a long pole, pouring steaming water into the tub. Noah winced at the thought of the scalding bath, but, thankfully, she balanced the temperature with cool water from a smaller bucket.
After showing him the bathing supplies, she warned, "Touch nothing."
Once alone, Noah slipped into the tub. The warmth was exquisite, his pores opened, dissolving grime, ash, and blood from his skin.
If I earned 750 gold coins a year, I could live without piglets, Noah mused. A mansion with a constant warm bath, daily comfort—what could be better?
"Get up! Out of the softening waters," Gladius growled.
"Let me enjoy the warmth," Noah murmured, dismissing Gladius's reminder of the water's inevitable chill.
The reminder, however, was effective. Noah dressed quickly after the bath, not wishing to experience the cold.
"Just as long as you can move, go find some demons to kill," Gladius urged.
"Why become stronger if not to enjoy it?" Noah retorted.
"I will enjoy; I'll be mighty, crushing worlds with my blade, far more pleasurable than your hot soak," Gladius scoffed.
"Is it, though?" Noah questioned as he dressed in the maid's provided clothing—woolen undershirts, felt trousers, a leather vest, a black leather jacket, and straw-colored boots.
"Do you reside in the castle town?" the maid asked as she collected his old clothes.
"I'll stay at the Hunter's Sanctum if things go as planned," Noah informed her.
"A cursed place," she remarked with a hint of awe.
"As long as I'm there, curses are trivial," Noah asserted confidently.
"We shall see," the maid said, leading him to meet the Count.
They climbed the castle's spiral staircase, guarded at strategic points for defense. Through arrow slits, Noah glimpsed children playing on the lawns, watched over by nannies and knights.
The maid swung open a mahogany door revealing a room with several occupants.
Count René de Alberta, a middle-aged noble with a bald head and bristly beard, sat at the head of the room, radiating displeasure.
A young man with chestnut hair, looking both confident and proud, sat beside him.
Rocher, holding his helmet, conversed with them on the red carpet. Armored guards wielded axes and swords, eyes fixed on Noah's dagger.
Being watched by the guards unnerved Noah.
"Overpower them," Gladius whispered viciously. "Chaos is our playground."
"Quiet," Noah mumbled inwardly. "I have to collect a bounty."
"As I've mentioned, this is the demon hunter, Mister Noah," Rocher announced.
Noah bowed slightly to the Count.
"Noah," Count René rasped, taking a sip of wine, "I hear Frederick is dead."
"Yes, Master Frederick perished in action."
"And you've inherited his key... the local Hunters' Sanctum?" René inquired.
"I'm the only hunter left, so I suppose I have," Noah shrugged.
"Then you also inherit their debts... Noah, by the end of this month, your Hunters' Guild owes me 205 gold coins, plus 12 silver and 23 coppers," the Count tapped his fingers lightly on the table, "with five percent monthly interest, don't forget to pay."