The City of Alchemy was gone—a shock that reverberated through everyone across the entire continent.
Winds of change blew fiercely and the political landscape shifted. The Dwarf Kingdom cast covetous eyes upon the City of Alchemy, to the point where anyone arriving from the city became subject to rigorous scrutiny, with hefty bounties even posted for their capture.
That unlucky devil Harvey had been seized before he could even set foot inside the city by a band of orcs who were half-mercenaries, half-bandits.
This clan of orcs passed down through a matrilineal tradition had ambushed Harvey outside Sweetdew City, swarming forward to bind him tight.
And so Harvey met the female orc beside him—or rather, a half-orc, half-elf.
This female orc, who called herself "Serrated Blade," had extracted his confession using the simplest, most primitive methods, leaving Harvey in his current battered state.
Harvey was beginning to suspect that luck was a conserved quantity; having ridden high for so long, his turn for misfortune had finally arrived.
After enduring a savage beating, Harvey barely managed to persuade the orcs and prove he knew nothing about the disappearance of the City of Alchemy. But Serrated Blade was not pleased. After working so hard to drag him back and putting so much effort into torturing a confession out of him, they had come away with nothing?
Just as Serrated Blade was preparing to butcher Harvey and sell him off to black-market necromancers, Harvey shouted at the top of his lungs that he could earn her a fortune.
"I'm very good at gambling!" Harvey declared through swollen, tooth-leaking lips.
Naturally, the orcs didn't believe him. Someone produced a few dice to play the simplest high-low betting game with him.
They declared that every loss would cost Harvey a finger, yet Harvey won thirty times in a row—until the orc couldn't take it anymore and resorted to cheating.
Yet the cheat was seen through by Harvey at a single glance, leaving the orc utterly defeated.
At the threshold of life and death, a divination wizard could always trust his own intuition.
Seeing Harvey possess such a talent, Serrated Blade immediately decided to keep this human in captivity.
No sooner had she sloppily bandaged Harvey up than she hauled him into Sweetdew City, hoping to make a killing.
Black and blue, bruised all over, and with a broken arm, Harvey cut an utterly miserable figure. Anbaixiu had nearly been unable to resist stepping in to help. But on second thought, when he had seen Harvey again in the future, the young man had borne no injuries whatsoever. Reason dictated he had resolved the problem through his own ability, so Anbaixiu stayed his hand.
After deciding to save Harvey, Anbaixiu had acknowledged him as his student, so he was quite curious to see how Harvey would resolve this predicament.
Harvey had no idea his pathetic state was being watched by Anbaixiu. He was dragged forcefully by Serrated Blade over to sit at a gambling table.
It was a dice table, but the dealer wasn't the tavern owner; rather, it was run by several relatively renowned local mercenary corps. Taverns across this continent seemed to share an unwritten rule: the tavernkeeper sold only drinks and acted as an intermediary broker for commissions, washing their hands of everything else.
The tavern served more as a platform for adventurers to do as they pleased.
The moment Harvey sat down, the adventurers engaged in gambling stared at him and erupted in mocking laughter.
The drow elf, dice cup clenched between his teeth, called out loudly, "I've seen plenty of degenerates, but this is the first time I've seen one beaten into such a pulp still coming back to gamble. Did you lose your entire life's fortune and come for one final gamble on your life? Want me to introduce you to a moneylender? I know plenty of bosses who give out loans."
Harvey merely tossed out a gold coin casually and said, "Just roll your dice. You're not a bard making a living off your mouth, so what's with all the pointless chatter?"
"Ha! The pig-face has a temper? Fine, today I'll have you losing even your bandages!"
The drow elf glanced at the position of Harvey's gold coin, resting on "High," and instantly broke into a grin.
Anyone who could work as a dealer naturally had their tricks. As a veteran rogue, rolling a low number was a walk in the park for him.
With a slap of the dice cup, the drow elf confidently lifted it. Sure enough: one, two, three—six points, Low.
Just as he smugly swept in Harvey's gold coin, the drow elf noticed something amiss. Piled atop the "High" space on the other side was a heap of small change, which collectively added up to more than the value of one gold coin.
Though he had won against Harvey this round, he had made his boss lose money.
He knitted his brows. How could he have made such an amateur mistake? Letting petty spite cause his boss to lose money—if word got out, he'd be in deep trouble. Still, such chump change didn't matter, as long as he didn't repeat it next time.
Harvey expressionlessly tossed down a second gold coin, again on High. This time the drow elf looked carefully—more people were betting on High, so he'd better open Low.
The dice were precisely controlled by the drow elf, rolling a four, five, and six—fifteen points, High.
This time, the other gamblers groaned in frustration, having lost quite a bit as well.
At that moment, someone called out that this kid Harvey was a reverse oracle, and people began betting strictly against him.
Now the drow elf was in trouble. He couldn't let his boss lose money, so he had to roll a number that would let Harvey win.
Yet to his shock, the drow elf discovered he couldn't roll it.
No matter what Harvey bet on, he kept losing, while those who bet against Harvey made out like bandits.
Cold sweat beaded on the drow elf's forehead. Over several consecutive rounds, he had already caused his boss to lose over a thousand gold coins. Slapping down the dice cup, the drow elf barked at Harvey, "You brat, you dare cheat in this place?!"
Harvey looked utterly innocent. "I've been losing money the whole time, and you're saying I'm cheating? Where's the logic in that? Besides, you're the one rolling the dice. I haven't even touched them, so how could I cheat?"
The drow elf was at a loss for words, but he was certain this bandage-wrapped fellow had pulled a trick.
Otherwise, the dice couldn't possibly refuse to obey him.
Harvey sighed and said, "Fine, even losing money gets me accused of cheating. To hell with this, I'm leaving."
Harvey rose to leave, and Serrated Blade hurried over to support him. Together, the two walked out of the tavern.
The drow elf felt something was terribly wrong. The female orc accompanying Harvey hadn't placed any bets, meaning the two had genuinely only lost money, which made no sense at all.
However, shortly after they left, several orcs also sauntered out of the tavern.
They had arrived earlier than Harvey, having long blended in among the tavern patrons placing bets. At first, they wagered haphazardly, losing a little chump change, but the moment Harvey showed up, they bet heavily against him. Because the bets were spread across several individuals, it looked like none of them had won much, yet together they had raked in five or six hundred gold coins.
This amounted to several months of income for them, leaving the orcs overjoyed.
Serrated Blade was delighted yet baffled, asking Harvey, "Why not just win directly? Why make it so complicated? With your skill, you could win tens of thousands in a single day!"
"If one person wins that much, they'll turn hostile on the spot. My teacher taught me one thing: when making money, you must stay just under the other party's bottom line. Now we leave safely without any danger. If we won too much, blood might be drawn, and in my current shape, I'd be the first to die."
Harvey had learned a great deal from Anbaixiu. Back when Anbaixiu had tricked him into setting up the magic circle, making him believe he was to be a sacrifice, Harvey had cleverly modified it to self-destruct. Although he ended up looking like a clown, it had taught him a profound lesson.
Sometimes, intentionally exposing a flaw was meant to conceal far more critical information.
Harvey had used himself as bait to successfully shield his companions. It would probably take until tomorrow for that drow elf to figure it out.
*I really have grown, haven't I?*
Though Serrated Blade thought Harvey was too cautious, they had made a tidy sum after all, so she said generously, "Then as agreed, I'll heal you."
With that, Serrated Blade slapped a palm onto Harvey's body, and a blue-green glow emanated from her hand.
Harvey felt the broken bones in his arm begin to itch, and within dozens of seconds, they had completely healed.
Panting, Serrated Blade withdrew her hand and told Harvey, "That's it. My healing magic is only so-so, so make do with it."
Orcs were generally inept at spellcasting; even bloodline sorcerers among them could only master a handful of inherited spells. Serrated Blade was definitely no sorcerer, so her spellcasting ability likely stemmed from her half-elven heritage.
Though the injuries on his face hadn't healed, regaining the use of his arm was already enough to thrill Harvey. These orcs kept their word, which meant his life was spared for now.
"Let's talk business," Harvey ventured. "I'll help you win money. How much do I need to win before you let me go?"
"Heh, keep dreaming! Why would I ever let go of a beast of burden that craps gold? Starting today, you're my man. You'll work for me for the rest of your life!"
Harvey's eyes went wide beneath the bandages. Shocked, he blurted, "What did you say?!"
Serrated Blade roared with laughter. "Don't worry, I won't hurt you. Back in the day, my mother captured a drow elf and was ever so gentle when doing the deed. It's family tradition."
Serrated Blade hoisted Harvey onto her shoulder and sprinted with long strides toward the largest inn in the city.
"H-Help!" Harvey tried to scream, but someone promptly shoved a piece of moldy dried meat into his mouth, gagging him completely.
All of this was watched quietly by Anbaixiu. He and Catherine had remained concealed nearby under illusions right up until Harvey was carried off on the run.
Anbaixiu let out a sigh. *The kid has improved a bit, but not much. Who reveals their intention to escape to their kidnapper? You're supposed to keep them off guard before looking for an opportunity to bolt!*
"Aren't you going to save him?" Catherine asked in a voice laden with sympathy.
After confirming that the victim of the mother had been a drow elf, Catherine had breathed a sigh of relief—at least it wasn't one of her own kin. Yet she couldn't help but feel sorrow for Harvey. Just how massive a psychological shadow would this leave?
Anbaixiu shook his head. "I already told you, fate cannot be altered. If I step in now, an accidental nudge might push the two of them right into bed together. This is fate's design; I trust Harvey will accept it."
Back then, Harvey had stated that if he foresaw his own death tomorrow, he would face it with composure.
It was only a loss of virtue, after all—an occupational hazard for an adventurer. The first time was unfamiliar, but by the second, one was an old hand; he would get used to it soon enough.
Anbaixiu said to Catherine, "Let's make good use of our time to rest as well. I have a premonition that we'll soon be able to fulfill this false prophecy. Once we finish playing out that scene, Harvey will be considered revived."
Chapter 217