Immediately, she grew worried for Karl again and reminded him: "However, Karl, training a qualified knight costs a great deal of money."
"Although you received a large sum from the tournament and the curse lifting, I'm afraid it won't last long."
"Just standard plate armor and a decent warhorse would cost hundreds of Orens as a base investment."
"Moreover, during the long training period, these children will be completely non-productive."
"Food and drink, weapons and equipment, training grounds, and instructors' fees—these are all enormous expenses."
"The food can't be too poor, otherwise you won't be able to grow them strong enough."
Triss's concerns were justified; as she said, it was indeed a bottomless pit.
However, Karl smiled indifferently and said confidently: "As for money, don't worry too much. For me, it's the least of my problems."
Hearing this, Triss looked at Karl in surprise.
She knew Karl had many secrets and had witnessed his incredible physique.
Seeing that Karl was so determined, although she was curious about how Karl would obtain a stable and vast fortune, she was smart enough not to ask about this sensitive topic.
She just smiled sweetly, with recognition and admiration: "You're very confident, Karl."
"But that's one of the things I like about you."
......
When leaving Triss's messy house, it was almost evening.
Karl straightened his clothes and prepared to find a secluded corner nearby to open a portal and return directly to Terra.
However, just as he turned into a relatively quiet alley, he heard a commotion and sounds of pursuit from afar.
He saw several teenagers, about thirteen or fourteen years old, dressed in rags, menacingly chasing after another boy.
The boy being chased looked even thinner and smaller, about eleven or twelve years old.
His face was already bruised and swollen, and his clothes were full of holes and stains, covered in dust.
However, even though he was being beaten like this, his bright eyes betrayed a persistence and unyieldingness beyond his years.
It was worth noting that his right hand was always clenched in a fist, as if holding onto something extremely important.
Seeing this, Karl temporarily abandoned the idea of leaving immediately and stopped where he was.
A light flickered in his eyes, and his clairvoyance ability instantly activated, his gaze easily penetrating the young man's clenched fist.
It turned out to be a silver coin... Karl immediately understood. No wonder this boy was being chased and beaten by a group.
He must have been lucky enough to find this silver coin somewhere—a "huge sum" for the poor—
and was then discovered by these unscrupulous peers, leading to this disaster.
At that moment, the boy running ahead, with his bruised and swollen face, didn't notice Karl due to his panic and injuries.
He ran not far in front of Karl when he tripped over a raised stone on the ground.
With a thud, he lost his balance, fell heavily to the ground, and rolled over several times, disoriented.
At that moment, he was immediately caught up by the few people chasing him.
"Come on, catch him!"
"Hand over the silver coin!"
"Told you to run!"
The teenagers immediately surrounded him, beating and kicking the boy who had fallen to the ground.
The group continued shouting and threatening, demanding he hand over the silver coin.
But the boy on the ground was very stubborn.
Even as he was beaten by many, he gritted his teeth and neither cried out in pain nor begged for mercy.
He even took the opportunity to grab the stone he had tripped over and fought back fiercely, cursing at the few people, showing no weakness: "Get back! It's mine! I won't give it to anyone!"
Karl frowned slightly and was about to step forward to intervene; he couldn't stand by and watch.
However, just as he lifted his foot, the situation escalated.
Among the few who were beating him, two of the most grim-faced teenagers flashed rage in their eyes.
They even pulled out roughly sharpened stone knives, looking ready to kill.
Karl's eyes narrowed, his face quickly turning cold, and his figure flashed.
The teenagers committing the violence felt as if they had been hit by a galloping carriage, a sharp pain shot through them, and they flew uncontrollably.
"Ahhh!"
BANG! BANG! BANG!
Several cries and muffled thuds rang out.
The teenagers crashed into the mottled walls on either side of the alley like broken sacks, slowly sliding to the ground.
The two who had drawn stone knives were the most seriously injured; their arms were bent at strange angles, clearly useless.
Blood flowed from their mouths and noses, and their bodies twitched slightly on the ground.
For a while, they couldn't even scream, only groaning in pain.
Meanwhile, most of the other teenagers who had only used fists and feet were holding their buttocks or backs, rolling on the ground and crying.
Although it was very painful, it was far less severe than those two cases.
Karl ignored the crying perpetrators and walked over to the battered teenager.
Then he bent down, reached out to help him up, and gently brushed the dust off his body.
"Are you alright?" Karl's voice was soft, with a calming strength.
The young man barely stood, and the pain radiating through his body made him wince slightly.
But he still held on, shook his head, and answered in a stubborn voice: "I... I'm fine."
"Thank you, sir. It's just a few minor injuries. I'll get better with time."
He looked down at his clenched right hand, felt that the silver coin was still there, and barely managed a smile that seemed to say, "It was worth it."
He muttered quietly: "The silver coin is still there... that's not a loss..."
"Saving a bit, I can buy ten loaves of bread... enough to eat for a few days..."
Karl looked at the boy who, after being severely beaten over a silver coin that had nearly cost him his life, was still secretly rejoicing at having "kept the property," thinking it was worth it.
He couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions in his heart and sighed softly.
In this era, life for people at the bottom was very hard.
A silver coin could mean whether a child survived or not.
Karl smiled gently and asked quietly: "Child, where is your family?"
The teenager looked up at Karl, and when he heard this question, a flicker of sadness crossed his face.
But that sadness was quickly replaced by strength, and he slowly shook his head.
His voice trembled with a barely perceptible quiver as he whispered: "My father... when I was five... died of illness."
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