Silas waited until the indicator needle truly slowed, then added another pin to the right pan. He placed several pins in succession until—

Clink.

The needle trembled again, this time with a shorter sway. The right pan dipped slightly, then stopped—balanced.

Silas withdrew his hand.

"Balanced."

The maid beside him immediately lowered her gaze to the ledger. The tip of her pen moved swiftly, recording the numbers neatly, her expression unchanged.

"Next," Silas said briefly.

Another basket was lifted and placed on the left side.

Thud.

The same process repeated.

The left pan dropped. The needle swayed. Silas adjusted—one pin, then a half pin. He never hurried. Every movement was precise, as if memorized by heart.

Clink.

Clink.

Balanced.

The maid recorded it again.

Silas turned slightly toward Lucas.

"Young Master, if you are still concerned about any foul play, please feel free to check."

Lucas did not say much.

"Just keep going. It's fine," he said flatly. "I'm watching it myself."

Silas nodded, then returned his focus to the scale.

Basket after basket was moved onto the Libra scale. Nothing was hidden, nothing delayed. Everything was done on the spot, in plain sight.

Each time the needle stopped perfectly at the center, the maid recorded it.

Each time the numbers changed, she double-checked before writing.

Time passed slowly.

The sound of metal, the clink of pins, and the scrape of baskets formed a steady rhythm across the field.

Lucas stood still, his eyes following the needle of the scale rather than anyone's face.

Silvara remained alert, but her tension gradually eased—there were no signs of cheating.

Liona stood at Lucas's side, observing in silence.

And the process continued.

Until at last, the final basket was placed on the left pan.

Weighed.

Balanced.

Recorded.

All the baskets had been weighed.

Silas fell silent for a moment, his brow creasing slightly.

He looked back at the scale, then at the ledger, as if recalculating everything in his head.

Lucas noticed.

"What is it?" he asked curtly.

Silas shook his head lightly.

"It's nothing, Young Master," he replied calmly. "It just feels… slightly less than expected. Perhaps my estimation was off."

Lucas frowned, but before he could respond—

Silas turned to the side.

"Lilia."

The maid immediately raised her head.

"The total combined weight," she stated without hesitation,

"two hundred ninety-nine point eight two zero Libra Guild."

Several people nearby instinctively drew quiet breaths. That was no small number.

Silas nodded once.

"Very well."

He then lifted his hand slightly and issued a command.

"Bring the chests."

Two members of his entourage moved at once. They returned from the wagon carrying two chests—one large, one considerably smaller.

The large chest was set down on the ground, positioned squarely between Silas and Lucas. The sound of heavy wood hitting the earth rang out.

Thud.

Silas stepped forward half a pace.

"As per our agreement," he said formally, "seven gold coins per one Libra Guild."

He opened the lid of the large chest.

Inside, stacks of gold coins were arranged in dense, orderly rows. Each bundle was bound with a strange silver-colored wire, faintly glinting under the sunlight—clearly not ordinary wire, but a standard sealing binder used by the Merchants' Guild.

The maid then took out a slender rod, its tip faintly gleaming, along with a strange wooden board of moderate size. The surface of the board was covered with neatly arranged engraved lines and small symbols.

She tapped the board once with the rod.

Tap.

Then, with swift, practiced movements, she wrote several numbers onto the wooden board. The numbers were not carved—instead, they appeared as if printed in thin light.

When she finished, the maid placed the wooden board directly on top of the piles of gold inside the large chest.

Several seconds passed.

Then—

Row after row of gold coins began to move.

They did not slide randomly. Instead, they lifted cleanly, as if pulled by an invisible force. The coins adhered to the underside of the board, arranged exactly as they had been before.

One of Silas's subordinates, the one carrying the small chest, immediately opened its lid.

The maid lifted the wooden board steadily. The entire rows of gold coins rose with it, hanging neatly beneath the board.

She then moved the board over the small chest.

Clink.

The sound of gold coins falling was soft but distinct—one row after another—filling the small chest neatly without spilling.

When she finished, the wooden board and rod were set aside. The large chest was closed again. Everything moved quickly and efficiently.

Silas stepped forward, took the small chest from his subordinate, and extended it toward Lucas.

"This is your payment, Young Master," he said calmly.

He then added,

"The baskets will be taken along with the harvest. We will replace every basket used."

The small chest was then handed fully into Lucas's hands, left open and facing Silas.

Silas closed the large chest and straightened. His voice was clear and formal—like a final transaction announcement.

"The total weight of today's harvest," he stated,

"two hundred ninety-nine point eight two zero Libra Guild."

He paused briefly.

"The agreed price: seven gold coins per one Libra Guild."

Silas turned to the maid beside him.

Lilia immediately added, her voice flat and precise.

"Total payment: two thousand ninety-eight gold coins, with a remainder of zero point seven four gold coins."

She lifted the wooden board once more.

Several silver coins shifted, separating neatly.

"Seventy-four silver coins," she continued. "In accordance with Guild standards—one hundred silver equals one gold."

Silas nodded in satisfaction.

He then opened the small chest in Lucas's hands and added the stack of silver coins with a light sound.

Clink. Clink.

"The primary payment is complete," he said.

After that, Silas took out another small pouch. Inside were copper coins.

"For compensation for all baskets we have taken," he said calmly.

"Seventy-four copper coins."

The coins were poured into the small chest.

Clink—clink—clink.

Silas then nudged the chest slightly toward Lucas.

"With that," he said, "the transaction is complete. No remainder. No outstanding balance."

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