I Regressed With a 10,000x God-Tier Multiplier-Chapter 49: An Urgent Transaction.

The march through the Northern Glaciers went on. The ice tunnel opened into a vast underground canyon.

Lucifer pulled on the reins. His Nightmare Steed stopped, its burning hooves crackling against the frozen ground.

The Aether-Steel Dragoons hovered into a tight, defensive formation behind him.

The cavern was enormous. The ceiling stretched hundreds of feet above, lined with thick, jagged stalactites of glowing blue ice.

The air was perfectly still, but the ambient temperature was so low that the exhaled breath of the Star-Kissed Elves instantly turned into fine, falling snow.

[System: Environmental Hazard Intensified.]

[Curse of Absolute Zero: Level 2.]

[Effect: Non-resistant entities suffer -50% Movement Speed and continuous Mana Drain.]

Even the Radiant Arch-Seraphs had to increase the output of their holy heat, their golden wings flaring brighter to protect the Elves marching in their center.

Lucifer felt nothing. His Void Arcanist core, insulated by the Warlord’s physical perfection, simply devoured the creeping cold before it touched his skin.

He looked out over the frozen canyon. Huge ruins of ancient, crystal-like structures rose from the ice.

Giant archways, broken towers, and wide plazas stood perfectly preserved in the deep cold. This was the outer ring of the Cryo-Sanctum.

"It is a city," Sarah whispered in awe. She sat atop her white mare, wrapped in a thick fur cloak Elara had provided.

The Oracle stared at the glowing blue ruins. "A city built entirely of magic and ice."

"It is a tomb," Lucifer corrected her. He did not admire the architecture.

To navigate the inner sanctum and reach the sleeping Dragon Queen, Lucifer needed absolute mobility and overwhelming, sustained firepower.

He needed his Dragoons operating at maximum capacity, which meant he needed a continuous, uninterrupted supply of high-grade refined mana crystals to feed their aether-cannons.

The half a million crystals he had extorted from Lady Aurelia in Silver-Port were already being processed back at the Citadel’s Aether-Forge to build more units.

Lucifer needed immediate, liquid capital. He needed to crash a market.

He unhooked a small, highly polished silver mirror from his belt. It was a long-range communication artifact, secured during his raid on the Lumina Order’s vault.

"Hold position," Lucifer commanded the army.

He channeled a fraction of his mana into the mirror. The smooth silver surface rippled, the reflection of the frozen cavern fading into a swirl of magical static. A moment later, the image stabilized.

The reflection of a luxurious, sunlit office appeared.

Lady Aurelia, the Gilded Lily of Silver-Port, sat behind her massive diamond desk. She looked surprised.

She was in the middle of writing a ledger, a cup of expensive red wine resting nearby.

She wore a sleek, crimson silk dress today, her dark hair pinned up with diamond clips.

"High Inquisitor," Aurelia said, setting her quill down. A sharp, calculating smile spread across her face. "I did not expect a call so soon.

Especially not on a secure Federation channel. I assume you are not contacting me to ask about the weather."

"I am in the Northern Glaciers," Lucifer stated flatly. He did not waste time with pleasantries. The Warlord’s eyes stared back at her through the mirror.

"I require an immediate, massive influx of liquid capital to fund an extended expedition."

Aurelia’s smile widened. She leaned forward, resting her elbows on the diamond desk. "The Northern Glaciers? You are insane, Lucifer.

There is nothing there but ice, death, and old myths. The Royal Army doesn’t even send scouts that far north."

"I am not the Royal Army," Lucifer said. "And I am not asking for a loan. I am initiating a trade."

Aurelia’s eyes sparkled with greed. She remembered the Warlord’s brutal efficiency and the five thousand Deep Gnome subjugation contracts he had dropped on her desk.

"A trade? What could you possibly have found in the ice that is worth a massive influx of capital?"

"I haven’t found it yet," Lucifer replied smoothly. "I am selling you the trash from my last campaign."

Aurelia frowned slightly, confused. "Trash?"

Lucifer didn’t explain. He raised his free hand and activated his Dimensional Vault.

He didn’t pull anything out. He linked the spatial rift directly to the communication mirror’s magical frequency.

It was a complex, high-tier Void Arcanist maneuver, bending the physical space between the frozen canyon and Aurelia’s sunlit office.

"Open a secure receiving vault," Lucifer ordered. "A large one."

Aurelia hesitated for a second, then tapped a rune on her desk. A heavy iron trapdoor groaned open on the floor behind her, revealing a massive, empty stone cellar used for storing bulk trade goods.

"It’s open," Aurelia said, her voice laced with sudden caution. "What are you?...."

Lucifer unleashed his inventory.

He did not send high-tier weapons or rare artifacts. He sent the absolute bottom-tier garbage he had accumulated over the past month.

Hundreds of thousands of rusted Iron-Hide Boar tusks. Millions of low-level Rot Walker femurs. Thousands of chipped, useless iron swords looted from the Deep Gnome capital.

Endless piles of generic, unrefined copper ore and low-grade leather scraps from the Scourgelands.

It was an ocean of absolute junk.

But it was a multiplied ocean.

The Apex Multiplier had applied its 10,000x boost to every single drop Lucifer had picked up since his regression.

He didn’t have fifty boar tusks; he had half a million. He didn’t have twenty chipped swords; he had two hundred thousand.

The spatial rift above Aurelia’s trapdoor exploded.

A deafening, continuous roar of falling metal, bone, and cheap ore flooded into her office.

The massive stone cellar below her desk filled up in less than ten seconds. The sheer volume of material began to spill up out of the trapdoor, cascading over the pristine marble floor of her penthouse.

"Stop!" Aurelia shrieked, jumping out of her chair as a mountain of rusted swords crashed against the edge of her diamond desk. "Lucifer, what is this?! Are you attacking me?!"

"I am selling," Lucifer’s voice echoed calmly from the silver mirror on her desk, now half-buried under a pile of Rot Walker bones.

The waterfall of trash finally stopped. The spatial rift snapped shut.

Aurelia stood pinned against the wall of her office. Her luxurious, sunlit penthouse was completely ruined.

The floor was buried under three feet of jagged iron, dirty leather, and stinking bone. The smell of the Scourgelands filled the room.

She stared at the absolute devastation in shock.

"You..." Aurelia stammered, her mind struggling to process the sheer mass of the material. "This is junk. It’s low-level crafting garbage. Why did you drop this in my office?"

"Volume," Lucifer replied through the mirror. "A single chipped iron sword is worth one copper coin. Two hundred thousand chipped iron swords are worth two hundred thousand copper coins.

Melted down, it is twenty tons of usable iron. A single Rot Walker femur is worthless. A million of them is enough bone meal to fertilize the entire southern agricultural sector for a decade."

Aurelia’s eyes widened. She slowly lowered her hands. The shock faded, replaced instantly by the cold sharp logic of a master merchant.

He was right.

The material was low-grade, but the quantity was impossible. If she flooded the capital’s markets with this much raw iron, leather, and bone meal, she could instantly crash the prices of basic commodities across the entire kingdom.

She could bankrupt rival merchant houses in a week and buy up their assets for pennies.

It was an economic nuclear bomb.

"You want me to liquidate this," Aurelia said. Her voice dropped to a breathless whisper. A fierce, predatory smile broke across her face. "You want me to crash the market."

"I want ten million gold coins," Lucifer stated coldly from the mirror. "And I want it transferred into high-grade, refined mana crystals. Immediately."

Aurelia looked around her ruined office. She laughed. It was a sharp, genuine sound of absolute thrill.

"Ten million gold?" Aurelia scoffed playfully, stepping over a pile of rusted swords to reach her desk.

"Lucifer, this much raw iron alone will net me twenty million when the King mobilizes the peasant militias and needs cheap weapons. You are undercharging me."

"I don’t care about the margins," Lucifer said. "I care about the speed. You get the crystals into my vault in the next sixty seconds, or I open the rift again and drop the rest of the Scourgelands’ dirt on your head."

Aurelia didn’t hesitate. She knew better than to push a Warlord who could bypass her security wards from a thousand miles away.

She opened a secure channel to her central Federation vault. She didn’t bother haggling. The sheer volume of the trade guaranteed her absolute dominance over the capital’s economy for the next five years.

"Transferring," Aurelia announced.

A moment later, a blinding blue light flared inside Lucifer’s Dimensional Vault. The heavy, unmistakable clatter of perfectly cut, dense mana crystals echoed in his soul space.

[System: Massive Currency Transaction Detected.]

[Item Sold: Bulk Low-Tier Materials (Quantity: 15,000,000+)]

[Currency Received: 100,000 High-Grade Refined Mana Crystals.]

Lucifer smiled. The funding for the expedition was secured. His Aether-Steel Dragoons could fire continuously for a month without running dry.

"The capital is going to burn when I drop these prices," Aurelia said through the mirror, her eyes gleaming with dark excitement.

"The King’s quartermasters will panic. Lord Vorian’s death already sent shockwaves through the nobility. This economic crash will paralyze them."

"Let them panic," Lucifer replied softly. "A paralyzed kingdom is a compliant kingdom."

He unhooked the silver mirror and stared directly into it.

"I will contact you when I need more capital, Lily," Lucifer said. "Do not disappoint me."

He cut the connection. The mirror went dark.

Lucifer hooked the mirror back onto his belt. He looked up at the massive, frozen ruins of the Cryo-Sanctum.

The expedition was fully funded. The Dragoons were primed. The Warlord was ready to break the ice.

"Advance," Lucifer commanded, spurring his Nightmare Steed forward.

The Grand Army moved into the silent, frozen city. The hum of the magitech thrusters echoed loudly off the towering, shattered spires of crystalline ice.

They moved straight down the wide, untouched central road, heading for the massive domed palace at the far end of the cavern.

The air grew significantly colder. The Absolute Zero curse intensified, thick frost immediately forming on the edges of Lucifer’s dark armor.

"We are not alone," Elara warned sharply.

The Fallen Valkyrie raised her silver spear, pointing toward a massive, towering archway of solid blue ice blocking the path ahead.

Standing in the shadows of the archway were massive, lumbering shapes. They did not roar. They did not charge. They simply stepped out into the dim light of the cavern, blocking the road to the palace.

They were Frost Giants.

They were thirty feet tall, completely covered in thick, pale blue skin that looked like polished glacier ice.

They carried massive warhammers carved from solid bedrock. Their eyes were blank, white orbs, entirely devoid of emotion or warmth.

[System Warning: Elite Guardians Detected.]

[Enemy: Frost Giant Sentinels (Level 45 - Elite)]

[Quantity: 20]

"They guard the inner gates," Sarah noted, her voice trembling slightly against the intense cold. "They will not let us pass."

Lucifer didn’t stop his Nightmare Steed. He didn’t order the Dragoons to fire.

He drew his longsword. The Carnage Core on his hip flared, projecting a violent, ruby-red light across the frozen avenue.

"Then we go through them," Lucifer stated coldly.

He spurred his beast forward, breaking away from the main column. The Warlord rode directly toward the towering wall of ice and muscle, ready to test his new Void Arcanist magic on a true, heavy-class enemy.