As the group of mages barged into the room with force, Ghislain couldn’t help but smirk in amusement.

“What’s with the group gathering?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“We’ve come to make a bet!” Claude declared confidently. “All of us are betting that your cosmetic product is useless.”

“Hmmm, there are a lot of you…” Ghislain remarked, feigning hesitation. “What are the terms?”

Claude, grinning broadly, stepped forward as their spokesperson. “If we win, you cancel our slave contracts and pay us 2,000 gold coins each. How does that sound?”

“And if you lose?” Ghislain asked with a glint in …