"You and your sister are rich, kid."
Dennis casually dropped the statement as he and Henning walked out of the hospital together. Morning sunlight reflected against the wet pavement while doctors and nurses moved around the entrance behind them. Henning still felt emotionally numb after hearing that his sister could actually recover, so Dennis's sudden comment completely confused him. He looked up at the older boy with a blank expression before asking quietly, "What do you mean? Why are we rich?"
"And stop calling me sir," Dennis muttered while leading him toward a pair of bicycles parked near the curb. "We don't really do formal nonsense in our clan." He tossed one of the bikes toward Henning, who barely managed to catch it before almost falling over. Dennis sighed deeply at the sight. "We seriously need to add bike lessons to beginner training. This is the Netherlands. Riding a bike is basically a survival skill here."
Henning awkwardly pushed the bike forward while trying not to crash into a nearby bench. "That still doesn't explain why we're rich," he said with visible confusion. Dennis glanced back at him before answering casually, "Because the Bingen family is interested in your sister. That alone makes you valuable." Seeing Henning still confused, Dennis continued, "The Bingens are the most profitable trade family in Europe. If they decide to nurture your sister, investors and factions will line up to support her future."
Henning frowned slightly while trying to keep his balance on the bicycle. "But why would they want her? She doesn't have qualifications or anything." Dennis laughed softly at that. "Qualifications mean less than talent right now. Your sister is intelligent, compassionate, mentally resilient, and apparently possesses a rare physique awakened by mana. To the Bingens, that makes her priceless doctor material." He paused briefly before adding, "Especially because she still didn't hate the world after everything it did to her."
The two continued riding through the streets while the morning crowds slowly filled the city. "They asked to move her to their private hospital because they genuinely want to treat her," Dennis explained. "But they also want her close because nobody knows what the world will look like after the expansion. If cities become isolated, they don't want to lose contact with someone valuable." Henning lowered his gaze slightly at those words. For once in his life, powerful people were fighting over whether he and his sister stayed close to them.
"That still sounds kind of ruthless," Henning admitted after a while. Dennis simply shrugged. "Of course it is. Those guild-clans are ancient trade families that survived the medieval era. Weak families disappeared centuries ago." His expression turned nostalgic for a moment as he remembered the old records stored inside the clan archives. "The reason these families still exist is because they learned how to protect themselves, their knowledge, and their bloodlines. Some used money. Some used war. Some used fear."
Henning thought about the terrifying smiles of both Fabian and Dennis before quietly nodding. "Does your family really have that much history too?" he asked. "There's barely anything online about the Sonnebergs." Dennis grinned proudly at that question. "Of course we do. Our clan has records on ancient warfare going back centuries. Swordsmanship, archery, survival techniques, battlefield tactics—you name it." His eyes gleamed slightly as he added, "And thanks to the system, all that old knowledge suddenly became useful again."
"The skill system changes everything," Dennis continued while effortlessly riding ahead. "We already saw what happens when someone raises a skill beyond normal limits. One of our family members pushed his archery skill a single level above the others, and the difference became monstrous." Henning quietly listened while processing those words. Ancient knowledge that modern humanity had abandoned was suddenly becoming the foundation of the new world. It honestly sounded absurd, yet after seeing the trial forest with his own eyes, he could no longer deny reality.
"Anyway, prepare yourself," Dennis said with a grin. "You have a lot to learn." Not long afterward, the two arrived at a large villa hidden behind iron gates and tall trees. Guards casually stood around the property, though the way their eyes tracked movement made Henning instinctively nervous. Dennis led him through several hallways before finally entering a quiet office filled with books, maps, and old weapons mounted on the walls.
"Alright," Dennis said while sitting behind the desk and gesturing for Henning to sit opposite him. "Let's discuss your obligations and benefits." Henning quietly sat down while looking around the room. "First, the guild will pay you fifteen wooden coins per month during training," Dennis explained. "We'll also teach you all foundational combat and survival skills possessed by the clan." Henning's eyes widened slightly at that amount of money. To him, fifteen wooden coins every month already sounded unbelievable.
"We estimate training you to our standards will take at least twenty years," Dennis added casually. Henning nearly choked after hearing that. "Twenty years?!" Dennis shrugged in response. "Mastery takes time." Then his expression became noticeably more serious as he placed a thick document on the desk. "In exchange, you'll sign a confidentiality contract and obey the decisions of the higher-ups within the guild."
Henning slowly picked up the contract and began reading it. The further he read, the darker his expression became. If he signed this agreement, leaving the guild later would become nearly impossible. He would have to repay the value of every skill and piece of knowledge taught to him, which was clearly an impossible amount. In practice, this was a lifetime loyalty contract disguised as education. Dennis immediately noticed the hesitation on Henning's face.
"Don't look so shocked," Dennis said calmly. "You knew something like this was coming." Henning remained silent while staring at the paper. "We won't force you to sign it," Dennis continued, "but if you refuse, we'll only teach you public-level skills. Enough so you won't embarrass the guild, but nothing important." His smile became colder afterward. "We're still a clan, Henning. The thought of our ancestral knowledge being stolen doesn't sit well with us."
For several long minutes, Henning tried negotiating for lighter conditions, but Dennis refused to change the important terms. Eventually, Henning let out a tired sigh before grabbing the pen. "I'll sign it," he said quietly. The moment he wrote his name on the contract, he felt a strange sensation spread through his body, almost like invisible chains quietly locking into place around him. The contract possessed real power. Actual supernatural power.
"You won't regret it," Dennis said while taking back the signed contract. "We don't offer these contracts to just anyone." Henning frowned slightly at that. "Why not? They seem incredibly useful." Dennis suddenly made a pained expression before answering, "Because they're absurdly expensive." He casually leaned back in his chair before adding, "Each contract costs around one hundred silver coins."
Henning completely froze.
One hundred silver coins.
An amount so absurdly large that his brain genuinely struggled to process it. Meanwhile, Dennis simply stood up and stretched casually. "That's why we could only buy two thousand of them for now," he said while walking toward the door. "Even though we wanted more." Then he left the room to report that Henning had officially joined the guild.
Henning remained seated silently inside the office long after Dennis left. Two thousand contracts. Only. The casual way Dennis said it made Henning feel slightly dizzy. He had spent years risking his life for a handful of copper coins while starving himself to keep his sister alive, yet the guild treated hundreds of thousands of points like an inconvenient expense. Oddly enough, instead of fear, the realization made him relax slightly.
For the first time in his life, Henning truly understood something important.
The Crimson Sun Guild was unimaginably wealthy.
And in Henning's opinion, there was no such thing as too much money.