"H–Haha… is it over?"
York gasped for breath, staring fixedly at the spot where the black-haired loli had vanished.
When he confirmed that not a single black feather remained, he finally relaxed.
He then looked up at the golden scales in the sky—or rather, at the long string of numbers above his own phantom.
"There's still quite a lot left…"
York frowned as he studied the numbers for a while, then sighed helplessly.
"Forget it. If I take all of their wealth, I won't be able to explain myself later."
With a wave of his hand, the numbers turned into streams of golden light and scattered toward the city below.
He then turned to the trapped royal powerhouses.
Seeing that several of them had already lost their sanity due to corruption, he frowned and retracted the wealth-light flying toward them.
As the remaining numbers on the scales gradually dropped to zero, those sixth-rank experts who had lost their original wealth began to turn into sand—just like the black-haired loli—and eventually vanished completely from the world.
At the same time, half of Chui-de City's population also disappeared.
Witnessing such a horrifying scene, the remaining royal sixth-rank experts trembled like sieves.
They all lowered their heads, not daring to meet York's gaze.
York didn't care.
These people were, after all, Old Chui-de's clan members. If he stripped them completely of their wealth, Old Chui-de would likely become dissatisfied.
And since the Healing Witch was still in Old Chui-de's hands, any secret retaliation would be more trouble than it was worth.
Although Chui-de City had suffered massive losses, the royal family's core strength remained largely intact.
That meant their foundation wasn't shaken, so Old Chui-de had no reason to turn against the Holy Court's envoy.
York could simply compensate them with a few items later, and today's matter would be settled.
At this moment, Old Chui-de emerged from the hollow of the Sacred Oak.
Looking at the ruined palace and the greatly reduced number of royal elites, his heart felt as if it were bleeding.
But just as York had predicted, the Chui-de royal family had not suffered fatal damage.
Old Chui-de had no reason to fall out with a powerful Holy Court envoy.
He carried a metal case and carefully approached York, forcing a flattering smile.
"Lord Envoy, I've brought out the Healing Witch. You see…"
As he spoke, he raised the box slightly.
York took it without hesitation.
As compensation, he pulled out a potion from his spatial ring and handed it to Old Chui-de.
"This is a Holy Spirit Potion—a soul-enhancement elixir used to break through to the Saint tier.
Consider it compensation for your family's losses in this disaster."
York handed over the crystal vial with a trace of reluctance.
Even for him, a Saint-tier breakthrough potion was valuable.
He hadn't wanted to use it as compensation.
If Old Chui-de had shown even the slightest dissatisfaction earlier, York could have brushed him off with some cheap items instead.
But Old Chui-de had been far too cooperative—not only more respectful, but he had immediately handed over the Healing Witch.
If York didn't offer something worthwhile, it would damage the Holy Court's image.
Ignoring Old Chui-de's ecstatic expression, York untied the straps on the box and prepared to carry it himself.
At this moment, the remaining royal experts, led by a mature woman, approached nervously.
They looked nothing like the dignified sixth-rank elites they were supposed to be.
A young man stepped forward, glanced fearfully at York, then turned to Old Chui-de.
"Great-grandfather, this is the family holy artifact that our ancestor told us to retrieve earlier. But now that he's dead, what should we do…?"
He opened his palm, revealing an ancient-looking gold coin.
The Glenko Coin—the Chui-de family's holy artifact, and the most suitable sacred item for wealth-attribute mages.
It granted immense fortune to wealth-type casters, but brought death curses to non-wealth users.
Wealth mages could also use it to perform unavoidable equal-value exchanges with anyone.
If the Scales of Plutus represented trade, then the Glenko Coin represented wealth itself.
The moment Old Chui-de saw the coin, his heart skipped a beat.
He nervously glanced at York.
Seeing that York hadn't noticed yet, he sighed in relief.
After all, this envoy was a far stronger wealth mage than their ancestor ever was. If York developed greed for the artifact, the consequences…
Old Chui-de didn't even dare imagine it.
At this moment, he wanted to curse the young man out loud.
The battle is already over—why bring this thing out now? Are you just showing off? Or do you think the family relic is burning your hands?!
He quickly reached out to snatch the coin—
But a faster hand reached it first.
York had already picked it up.
"A coin-shaped holy artifact…So this is the Chui-de family's relic?
Old Chui-de, do you mind if I take a look?"
"T-This…" Old Chui-de hesitated, but under York's sharp gaze, he dared not refuse.
He forced a nod.
"Please, Lord Envoy."
Internally, he grumbled:
You've already taken it—why even ask?
Seeing the undisguised greed in York's eyes, Old Chui-de knew the artifact was as good as gone.
But what shocked him even morewas that the young man who had brought the coin suddenly spoke up:
"Lord Envoy, this is our family's inherited holy artifact."
"So?" York frowned, clearly displeased.
He did want the artifact, but having it pointed out so bluntly hurt his pride.
Stealing it wasn't exactly honorable.
But to York's surprise, the young man suddenly changed his tone and said respectfully:
"Keeping this relic in our family would only let it gather dust. Why not let Lord Envoy take it instead? I only ask—boldly—that you grant us a bit more in return."
As he spoke, his eyes repeatedly drifted toward the potion in Old Chui-de's hand.
The implication was obvious.
York froze, then understood immediately.
A gentle smile appeared on his face.