Maxwell reached again and pulled out another sack. And another, and another. Until he brought out about seventy sacks.
It took him a little over five minutes to do so.
Frilo, done with its task, continued its nap in Maxwell's soul. It had been there ever since they finished gathering the cores at the valley.
Maxwell gazed at the desk filled with sacks.
Some of these sacks had to rest on the cold floor because the space on the desk was filled up.
Witnessing this impossible sight, the receptionist had no words to express herself; instead, she could only mutter:
"E–elementless m–magic?
Vin shrugged, unsurprised. He'd seen Maxwell perform miracles today. This was nothing.
"There isn't a single crimson core in the red valley," Maxwell said. "Only corpses. We harvested all the crimson cores."
The receptionist nodded nervously.
"I will– we.. I'll inform the Guildmaster and the executives– and the officiators–"
