The hunt family's dining room was usually reserved for entertaining visitors. Maybe, it was due to it being closer to the exit. Perhaps, the massive hard wood table and chairs were more difficult to break. Either way, it was here that Oliver and his father chose to host their guest.

“What do you mean you can’t sell them!? They’re just peasants!” An angry teen in fancy clothes was spitting demands while smashing his fists on the dining table.

“Young Charles, please calm yourself.” said the old man sitting in the head seat. “If you put a hole in our furniture, I’ll have to send your father the bill.”

Though Charles maintained an angry mug, his fists came loose and he placed them on his lap.

“This meat is delicious.” noted Oliver without a care. “We should give the chef a raise.”

“If it’s from your own pocket, then be my guest.” laughed Simon. Unlike Arthur who was a stick in the mud about honor and fairness, his second son had inherited his father’s best ‘qualities.’ If he couldn’t see a way to make profit, the boy wouldn’t even leave his bed.

“I don’t understand…” complained Charles half defeated. “What is it for you to part with a couple of servants? Just, name your price. Surely, I can make it worth your while.”

- Munch… munch… -

After finishing the wing on his plate, Oliver cleaned himself with a napkin and answered calmly.

“It’s quite simple, Dear Charles. It’s not that I won’t sell them to you. It’s just that you can’t afford them.”

“What!?” Charles stood up while slamming the table.

“Calm down please.” Oliver gestured him to sit before continuing. “The boy took out 10 of your men like they were idiotic thugs. As for the girl… I’m sure you know what she’s capable of even better than I do.”

Charles’ fists clenched once more, but he sat down nonetheless. Through gritted teeth, he spoke slowly as if making a threat.

“Dear Brother Oliver, even if you ask for 10 times the price of each one, I’m sure I can procure the funds. I’ll just need a little bit of time...”

By now, Simon Hunt was listening closely. He knew little about the situation, but his son seemed to have struck gold.

“10 times?” Oliver scoffed at the idea while completely ignoring the boy’s tone. “Surely, you jest Brother. We’re not talking about potatoes that increase their value based on weight or numbers. These are mages with potentials yet untapped. If they are this powerful now, how strong do you think they’ll be in 5 years’ time?”

“But…”

“AND…” Oliver cut him off. “Just for the record, I have not taught those 2 a single thing since I met them. When they joined my house, their abilities were already developed.” Oliver leaned in towards Charles before continuing slowly.

“Which begs the question: Who is their master? What mage would be so bold as to teach commoners magic, yet so capable as to have created such monsters?”

Across the table, Charles’ fury was slowly subsiding. In its place, another emotion was starting to take root. Oliver picked up on this and decided to go for the kill. With a somber face and in his most serious voice, the boy delivered his closing lines.

“Dear Brother Charles… While I’ve been doing my best to appease the being that’s backing those two, you seem to be hell bent on pissing it off.

Of course, your business is none of mine, but out of concern for my… 'brother,' I’ll just say this: The price that comes with such a venture… I dearly hope you can afford it.”