Chapter 23 Making Puppet

"But I need a lot. Can you give it to me at this price?" Gavin asked, a little embarrassed.

"I don't know how much you want, sir. If it's a large quantity, I'm afraid I can't make that decision," the steward replied, looking uneasy.

After a moment's thought, Gavin answered, "I want 50 copies of these materials."

"Well, sir, 50 copies isn't a problem, but I'm afraid our current stock won't cover it. I can only provide 7 copies right now. If there are any missing, we can send them to you. We have a treasury in the Old Town, and we'll ensure the rest is delivered before the end of the martial arts competition," the steward explained quickly.

Once Gavin agreed, the steward called a servant, gave him a few instructions, and then turned to Gavin. "Please sit down, sir. The goods will be delivered soon, and I'll arrange the gold dragons for you right away."

Gavin and Tommen led a caravan back to their camp. As soon as they arrived, a group of soldiers who had been waiting eagerly helped unload the boxes. Soon, two large boxes were placed carefully in Gavin's tent.

This time, Gavin had secured 100,000 gold dragons. After setting aside the 30,000 gold dragons for Tommen and the other soldiers, Gavin was left with an astonishing 70,000 gold dragons—a sum that would make anyone stop and stare.

After placing the box containing 30,000 gold dragons in front of the tent, Gavin called upon a few well-respected veteran soldiers to oversee the money distribution.

Many of the soldiers who had won bets quickly gathered, their faces flushed with excitement. Their smiles were wide and bright, and they eagerly praised Gavin.

Gavin, however, was already thinking ahead. With eager anticipation in his eyes, he couldn't wait to experiment with the blood witch puppet. It just so happened that a gladiator who had fought him earlier had died from serious injuries and bled to death.

Recalling the information he had asked Tommen to gather, Gavin pulled him aside and, with a solemn expression, asked, "What did the others say about the question I asked you to ask?"

"I've already spoken to the two captains. They said the gladiator wasn't part of their group, and they won't be taking his body. They asked us to help bury him," Tommen replied quickly.

Upon hearing this, Gavin let out a long sigh of relief and said slowly, "You'll need to find a carriage later. We fought side by side, so it's better if I bury him personally."

Tommen's face lit up with surprise. "Captain, just let me handle this. There's no need for you to do it yourself."

Gavin shook his head slightly, offering no further explanation, but his tone was firm as he said, "Do as I say. Tell me immediately when you're ready, and make sure it's done tonight."

Though Tommen was puzzled, he didn't question Gavin's decision. He bowed and immediately turned to prepare.

As Tommen walked away, Gavin turned and strode into his tent, determined to prepare the necessary materials for the ceremony.

Later that night, everything was quiet. Gavin drove a carriage alone through the uninhabited forest, guided by the faint moonlight and the flickering torch in his hand. He had refused Tommen's help, choosing to come alone with the body.

The gladiator who had died was named Dasio. He was the one who had fought Gavin with a scimitar earlier in the competition. Dasio was agile, fast, and flexible, but he had tragically died for a large reward and bonus.

Gavin undressed Dasio and examined the deep wound in his abdomen—its appearance was hideous and gory, clearly the fatal injury that caused his death.

With the torchlight flickering, Gavin began to carefully draw runes on the body. Fully focused, he worked with precision, sweat beading on his forehead as he made sure every rune was perfect. Any mistake would ruin the ritual.

After two tense hours, Gavin finished carving the runes. He checked them thoroughly, ensuring no mistakes, and breathed a sigh of relief. He wiped the sweat from his forehead, ready for the next step.

From the carriage, he retrieved a simple blood transfusion device. It was crude—a flexible cowhide water bag filled with liquid medicine and a thick cow blood vessel. Compared to the infusion tubes from his previous life, it was extremely primitive. However, in this world of magic, it would suffice to temporarily replace the blood wizard's control over blood, helping Gavin achieve the blood transfusion he needed.

As the sky began to lighten, Gavin, who had not slept all night, felt more energized than ever. Once the medicine was almost fully infused, he pulled out a dagger and cut his wrist. Blood flowed into the water bag like a river. Gavin silently counted the dosage, enduring the dizziness from his rapid blood loss.

Once he felt the blood amount was sufficient, Gavin quickly retrieved a small bottle of liquid medicine from his pocket. He dripped his own blood into it, shook it briefly, and drank it all.

In a miraculous moment, the wound on his wrist healed before his eyes. In less than a minute, the cut vanished, leaving no trace behind.

Watching the blood transfusion work, Gavin couldn't help but feel a sense of wonder. It was a pity the magical properties of the potion only lasted for 30 minutes, or he would have made more for later use.

Gavin focused on the slow infusion of blood, silently praying in his heart. Given the current state of magic, and the method he was using, he wasn't entirely confident this ritual would succeed.

Suddenly, a large amount of black blood surged from Dasio's wound—an unmistakable sign that the blood exchange was working. Gavin quickly placed his hand over the corpse's chest, concentrating as he awaited the moment when the black blood finally stopped flowing.