Operation Fleecing continued as Ciel ignored the crowd’s befuddled expression.

“Seeing your confused face, I understand what you might be thinking,” Ciel said. “You see an army from the foreign state led by a lady who hates your gut. Out of nowhere is this moronic looking man who might be coming right out of the insane asylum. You probably believe I will be parting you from all your valuables, and forking your penniless body over to Montgomery as human shields.”

It was a negative statement Ciel stated about himself with the aim to disperse the tension. He needed the people — his customer — on his side. Voicing their fears would help convince them of his sincerity and kill the elephant in the room.

“Never fear,” Ciel spoke like he had the entire thing under control. “I am here to help you solve all your woes.”

No one believed him. Even his supposed allies turned toward him in confusion. Betty’s mouth refused to close. She was too absorbed into watching the train wreck. Meanwhile, Apolline was praying for her torture to be over.

It was then Ciel displayed his greatest persuasion trick — exploiting fear.

“Ladies, gentleman,” Ciel began, “let’s not kid ourselves and envision our future.” Ciel started painting a bleak and realistic image. “An idiot just flooded Accel's market with a bunch of fakes. You know it. I know it. Even an economic noob like Apolline can work it out, the Accel’s credibility will be taking a hit.”

Apolline gave Ciel a stink-eye, but he continued anyway.

“It's human nature to find a scapegoat for their woes,” Ciel pointed out the obvious to help sell his deal. “And guess what, the entire world will be blaming you.” He shrugged with genuine sympathy. “Yes, I know it isn’t your fault. You're not the one who floods the Accel market and generates this crisis, but the property of the scapegoat is that they are easy to blame. Let's be honest and say a war-torn refugee, fleeing from the epicenter of this disaster as an economic burden would fit that ease-to-blame requirement like a perfect shoe.”

Ciel gave a standing ovation to the crowd.

“That is one way the story could go. This is another one.” Ciel winked. “Brave citizens of Eleanor facing certain defeat decide to contribute to the eventual victory of the resistance against the scourge named Etaceh.” He stood taller. “We all know you have those goods in your storage artifacts for this kind of rainy day, but I doubt you can keep it for long. That is why I have a proposal to ensure everyone walks out a victor. You can walk out of this crisis blameless with a way to defend yourself, and Montgomery’s force aiding us can argue the expense to that idiot Maximus.” Ciel stomped on the other point of contention. “Now, I understand charitable donation at knife point is robbery. Relax. I’m not a thief. I am here for an equivalent exchange. Your wealth for goods you would want.”

“Goods?” The fat man with a twirly mustache spoke in disbelief. “What do you have to sell us?”

“First, the ticket for the transport out of this death trap,” Ciel said. “But I believe you would like my second offer more.” Ciel gestured to the woman waiting beside the forge. “Caislean, please show our guest the raw material.”

Caislean, dressed in a black sweater, came to the spotlight with a basket full of coins.

“The Prime Intelligentsia is throwing a bunch of coins down on us and rendering the currency useless,” Ciel took the basket and marched to a furnace burning nearby. “However, this coin also has a decent percentage of steel and copper to make it passable for the Accel we used. This made it the perfect raw material for forging.”

Ciel poured the metal content of the basket into the furnace.

“Now,” Ciel whispered like a stage-magician. “Let me show you why they called me a contender for the smartest among my kind.”

The crowd watched the counterfeit coins melt in the heat, turning into a silvery liquid.

Ciel adjusted the furnace control and began wielding his skills. His [Construction] — finely honed from practice and experience — reshaped the liquid metal. The glowing metal compacted and distorted into a perfect shape. Ciel then grabbed the bucket of oil he had prepared and quenched the weapon.

The crowd watched in awe. As the newly minted weapon rose from the oil, perfectly straight. A leather wrapping appeared out of thin air and wrapped around the metal hilt. Ciel clicked his finger with dramatic flair as the sword sharpened itself, shedding the excess material to reveal a gleaming blade.

Within three minutes, a complete blade dropped into Ciel’s hand. Its creation was lived for everyone to see. The Eleanorian couldn’t believe their eyes. The Montgomery’s force and Apolline were dumbstruck by the ease and control Ciel had displayed. Only Betty and Caislean treated Ciel’s performance like an everyday occurrence. They already knew he often created this kind of weapon as a hobby. The Unity Lord had mastered the art of weapon creation ages ago.

“Okay, are there any appraisers here?” Ciel said, waving the perfectly created blade. “I want to make sure my products are up to par.”

The crowd of displaced merchants looked at each other. It was then that a bespectacled uncle with a graying triangle beard walked out of the crowd.

“I think I am qualified for this,” said the man. “I ran a weapon shop in the upper-section of Eleanor.”

“Would that do?” Ciel said, addressing the public who nodded back. “Very well.” Ciel presented the man with the weapon. “Please appraise this.”

The gray-bearded man took Ciel’s blade and observed it, “Flawlessly sharp, and straight.” He nodded, flipping the blade and ringing it with his finger. “Impeccable microstructure,” he declared. Then he tested the weapon with a forward swing and a draw. “Great balance and lightness.” The graying bearded man turned toward Ciel. “It is already a first-rate piece. If you enchanted it, I believe it would be worth every single coin you demanded.”

Ciel smiled, “Caislean, bring me the enchanting kid.”

Within a second later, the crowd watched the newly minted enchanted sword launched an ether-blade that sliced a test-log in half.

The attitude had shifted completely. Ciel was no longer a charlatan. He was the grand-master, mystical weapon-maker straight from the page of myth. Every word he said was taken in a new light. No one doubted that what he created could sell, but they needed to know the logistics.

A man — the representative of the Eleanorian — came to Ciel with problems.

“We are pleased you are here to do the transaction, grand-master,” the man with a curly mustache said. “But this place is hardly safe.” The man glanced back at the smoldering city. “We will be drawing too much attention. Those hooligans could reach the port at any moment.”

Ciel smiled at the mustache-man, “That is the point! If we tracked the enemies to the slum, we would be spreading ourselves thin and making ourselves more vulnerable to ambush.” He smirked. “But if we barricaded ourselves in this place, they would have to come to us and throw themselves against the defender's advantage. Plus, we will be operating as obvious evacuation centers. Making the stand here will aid in the rescue effort, don’t you think so?”

The mustache man smiled nervously. He wanted to bolt out of here as fast as possible, but Ciel’s reasoning was too airtight.

“What about the raw-materials?” The mustache man said. “Surely, you need them to continue making weapons.”

Ciel pointed at the counterfeiting coins raining from the flying city, “I doubt we are going to run out given that our invader keeps throwing it at us.” Ciel whispered into his ears, “How about we start being honest with each other? I know you might be a little wary of the hooligans who had burned your home and livelihood.” Ciel clapped the man on his shoulder. “Who wouldn’t be? But may I introduce you to another perspective.”

“Another perspective?” the mustache man repeated.

“Yes, a brand-new perspective,” Ciel raised his voice and addressed the people. “You had your home burned down. Your family is threatened. Your wealth was robbed. And you are planning to let them get away scot-free?”

The crowd took a second to digest that, but Ciel didn’t let the fire die.

“Ladies, Gentlemen,” Ciel said. “The money is just a cherry. The real meat is the payback. Imagine it. Imagine melting down Etaceh’s smug display into bullets to fire at her face. This is the opportunity to make her bleed. Remember, those untrained hooligans that will surely be coming to attack this place would have helped themselves to the fake coins lining the street and the wealth they robbed from you.” Ciel raised his voice to stir the crowd. “Folks. These aren’t attackers. They aren’t scourges. They are delivery services, so why are we running away from them! Come on, let's strike back,” he smiled, “The bitch on Hecate wants to devalue the currency. Well, the two can play the game. Let her threw her worthless trash down here, and we will add some value to it.” Rem knew this is it. It was the moment the people were revitalized. “Isn’t that the point of having the economy?” Ciel raised his hands. “Who is with me? Who wants to make the smartass bleed?”

A man roared, “Count me in!”

Caislean knew her cue, “Down with the smarty-pant! Make her pay! Remember what she did today. Everybody! Speak up!”

Apolline, spotting an opportunity, pitched in her octave to rile up the party, “Are we planning to go out like a wimp? Come on! Scream! Vent out your frustration!”

“No!” A few men yelled.

“Of course not!” Caislean said. “Repeat that! Louder!”

““No!”“ The words were repeatedly joined by more voices.

“Again!” Ciel said. “More energy.”

“““NO!”””

And with it, the human’s wave effect Ciel was waiting for had kick-off.

“Who is going to kick that smartass where it hurts?”

“““WE WILL!”””

“Are you going to run away?” Ciel said, grabbing a voice amplifier.

“““NO!”””

“Then arm your men of fighting age! Get the women to the factories!” Ciel yelled. “Build the barricade! And get the kids some chocolate. Today we are starting a war economy. Hell yeah!”

“““HELL YEAH!”””

…

And ‘Hell Yeah’ it was.

For the rest of the night hooligans and out-of-control rioters tried to breach the defense, but through discipline and resource disparity the result was akin to charging into the wall of blades. To add insult to injury, the defenders of the port took liberties to drag the corpse of their defeated enemy and striped them of all valuables.

Most of these valuables was the counterfeited Accel which would be promptly shoveled into Ciel’s furnace.

Speaking of the Unity Lord, he defied all expectations by churning out weapons-after-weapon made from the coins Etaceh was happily donating at the rate far faster than anyone expected.

As for Caislean, she was handling the front stage with renewed gusto.

“This is a three-section staff enchanted with cryogenic ability!” Caislean addressed the crowd in a massive auction. “Lord Ciel had further designed this for explosive air-burst by rapidly heating the cryogenic air met with the furnace in the midst section. Now, let get the auction going.”

The crowd seated in the tent responded with enthusiasm. 

“Jade Emerald from Yulong!” said an old woman auctioning in the crowd.

“A piece of a mystic gem from the Northland continent!” Another man said.

Apolline and Betty watched the bidding from afar, while fending off the incursion from behind the barricade with confusion.

“This is supposed to be a refuge, right?” Apolline asked, flinching at the explosion in the distance.

Betty was in awe at the crowd ignoring the surrounding fire to contest for treasures, “I don’t know anymore.”

…

While Ciel and company turned in the profit, a fated meeting was occurring inside the blazing city.