Day 5
"Nothing?" Luthor frowns. "He's got two days left and he's doing nothing."
The attendant shrugs.
Day 6
"There's a lot of noise coming from the tunnel, but… it's not collapsing," the attendant explains, wringing the hat in his hand much tighter than usual.
"How does he…" Luthor shakes his head. "Whatever, they started working the last two days. Even if they don't die, Jacob's going to look like a fool. It's going to destroy his rising star. It's good enough for now."
End of Day 7
Everyone's gathered just right outside the mine where they have brought a giant scale to weigh the results. The sky above is tinged of red and orange and the sunset is approaching.
"Alright, gents, let's see your work. One by one, who wants to start?" Luthor asks.
Clayton looks smugly around and says nothing. He wants to go right before Jacob, who looks pretty clean for someone who only started working two days ago. Luthor and his crew, instead, are covered in dust from head to toe—they were working all night to finish up and make sure they have the largest advantage.
Clayton himself knows that he's mined more than any other on his crew, which means the Mana Pool Skill Crystal is going to soon be his.
"Crew 9 has mined twenty-three kilograms of ore! Not too shabby!" Luthor says as crew 9 unloads their cart. "Eleven with mild Mana traces."
Crew 2 steps up after Crew 9 finishes unloading their haul. They push a battered cart forward, and one of their members cranks the lever so that the lumps of ore clatter onto the scale. The squeaking of metal parts is the only sound while everyone stares.
"Eighteen kilograms," the clerk says. "Seven with mild Mana traces."
A murmur sweeps through the crowd. One of the Crew 2 members tosses his pickaxe onto the ground and shrugs.
"Next time," he says, glancing at the meager lumps.
Crew 5 steps up next. A tall miner with a ragged beard grabs the bar of the scale and helps guide a chunk of ore the size of a man's head. His teammate braces a smaller piece on top. Everyone squints as the scale takes its time. A hush lingers until the scale teeters.
"Thirty‑two kilograms," the clerk calls out. "Four show moderate Mana traces."
"That's the second best so far!" someone shouts from the onlookers.
The group nods to one another, although the tension on their faces makes it clear that they believe Luthor's monstrous load might crush them in the end.
A few more crews bring forward their carts with average results. Crew 7 even has a new recruit who flushes whenever he hears the older miners snigger about his messy stack of rocks. The scale reads sixteen kilograms, and the recruit scowls at the floor.
Then the last group besides Luthor's group and Jacob's emerges from a shadowy corner, and they roll in a small cart that requires two men to keep from tipping. They unload carefully.
"Forty‑six kilograms total," the clerk announces. "Two lumps have mild Mana traces."
The foreman's men stand near the front as the crowd grows restless. It is clear that no one has hit the range of those rumored big yields. Luthor strokes his beard and steps forward.
"All right. You're all done?" he asks. "No one wants to add anything else?"
A hush spreads across the miners. Everyone shakes their heads or lowers their gazes. Luthor waves a hand toward Clayton's crew.
"Bring it in," Luthor says.
The onlookers press closer as Crew 1 wheels out a creaking cart. A second cart follows it, and men begin to whisper in surprise. Then a third cart with half its boards stacked high appears.
"They have two and a half carts!" someone gasps.
"How did they mine that much in one week?"
"They must have camped in the tunnels day and night."
Several old miners narrow their eyes at the shapes piled in the carts because they can sense the glint of the ore. Some lumps appear unusually dense, and others have a faint shimmer that suggests Mana infusion.
Luthor orders the men to lift the first cart onto the scale. Although the scale is a sturdy mechanism, it groans under the weight. The clerk reads the measure twice because he suspects a mistake. Then he announces in a raised voice, "Ninety kilograms!"
Many miners gulp. That alone surpasses every single crew's total except for Crew 9's modest result plus maybe one other. Yet Luthor's men are not done. They tip the second cart and free an even larger pile. The scale wobbles, and a few onlookers hoot in disbelief.
"One hundred twenty," the clerk says.
Miners shift around, waiting for the sum.
"That's already over two hundred," an older man mutters. "Add the half cart and they're breaking records."
Clayton marches forth and slams the half cart's side with an open palm. The lumps shift with a dull rumble. He cranks the lever, and a few lumps spill out one by one.
The clerk waits until everything settles. "Thirty more kilograms."
"There are thirty-four lumps with traces of mana. Then seven more have high mana contents."
A stunned silence grips the yard. Then the whispers erupt in a wave of shock and resigned murmurs.
"That's two hundred forty total," the clerk announces. "And it's not just common silver either. I see at least four lumps that glow."
"Nobody's even close!" one miner blurts, gawking at the stack.
Cries and cheers from the foreman's supporters rise. Others let out low whistles or groans because they recognize that they have no shot at the Mana Pool Skill Crystal now.
A few men shake their heads at each other. "There's no way that last group can top that."
"Jacob Cloud didn't bring out anything yet," someone remarks, scanning the circle for the scrawny youth.
"He wasted a whole week piling up timber. He might not even show up," a skeptic calls out.
Luthor runs his gaze over the crowd and smirks. He spots Jacob standing behind four older crewmates. They look too calm for miners who have produced nothing.
"It's your turn, Crew Three," Luthor announces. "I hope you at least found a pebble or two."
A few around him chuckle in anticipation.