hermitscave

Chapter 457 - An Offer He Can't Refuse

Inside a nameless shack in the eastern part of Rhodanos, an almost eerie quiet had taken hold. Usually, this place was bustling, filled with the smell of booze, sweat and copper. After all, everyone in the area knew that this shack was owned by the Portside Gang and operated as a gambling house.

Yet tonight, none of the usual gamblers were here to throw away their hard-earned savings on dubious chance. None of the croupiers were manipulating the dice rolls to make sure the house would always win. At least the latter were still there, but without any customers to rip off, what was the point?

As the boss stared down at the desolation of what once used to be his best business, he knew he was in trouble. Up here on the second floor, the boss usually sat, enjoyed some wine, and looked over the railing down onto the gamblers, as they made money for him with their vices. Right now, he still sat and drank in the same place as always, but the wine was pleasure no more. Now it only served to numb his troubles.

"Everything still the same?" he asked his right-hand man, hoping for a different answer, despite knowing better.

"Yeah, boss," the right hand with the two missing fingers replied. "Those South-city bastards left the front door, but one of them is still watching us from across the street. He'll probably 'arrest' anyone who wants to go in."

"Are they still wearing their ridiculous costumes?" The boss sneered. Those guys from the south city were an embarrassment for the gangs of Rhodanos. Yet in contrast to the boss' derision, the right-hand man frowned deeply.

"That's right, boss. They say they're scholars now, so they need to stamp out any gambling in the city. They say it's their right to arrest all the gamblers they want."

"Bastards! They take out the competition and now all our customers are gambling at their place! Why else would anyone go into that dingy rat hole!?" The boss slammed his fist against the second-floor railing, before he added in a deep growl: "Are they that eager to start an all-out war?"

"Well, boss..." The right hand hesitated, before he continued. "Last time we tried to fight them, the guards got involved and arrested all of ours. And they let those southern bastards go with no arrests."

Of course, the boss knew all of that already. Reminded of the uncomfortable truth, the boss' body deflated as his hot head cooled off again. Someone up high in the city apparently wanted to deal with the Portsiders, and they were using the South-city gang to do it.

Now that they were against another gang and the local guards, there was nothing they could do. Even the old bribes weren't helping anymore. They hadn't been warned about any of the recent raids, and none of their guys had made it back out from prison recently.

Frustrated, the boss turned back away from his empty establishment. Looking at the empty seats wouldn't magically generate more customers. Instead, he focused on something productive and drank some more wine. What else could he do? Thus, he continued to spend his night like he had spent his day: brooding in silence.

For a while, the boss looked deep into his wine, as if a magical solution would present itself within. It took a sudden banging from downstairs to wake him from his apathy.

"Damn fools! Can you not stay quiet and let me sit here in peace for a moment!?" the boss screamed and jumped up, his cup of wine still in his left. Once again, he slammed his right fist against the railing, as he stared at the source of the noise downstairs.

Yet what he saw robbed him of his voice, and all of his anger. For the first time in days, customers had finally arrived, but they had come with bad intentions. A dozen armed men in black robes had entered the room, and they were in the process of taking apart his gambling house.

At some point, his right-hand man had left his side, and now he was leading the Portsiders to defend their gang's last good property. With clubs and knives they charged to drive out the intruders, yet against this new enemy, they were helpless. All they could do was scream as they were taken out one by one.

All the intruders seemed to be fighting experts, armored and armed. Although they were faced with the most ferocious gang in Rhodanos, there wasn't even a need for them to draw the swords and axes they carried. All of his men lost their weapons before they could swing them, and they promptly ended up as heaps on the floor.

Some screamed as they held their broken arms and legs, others were unconscious, or pretending to be. His right hand was one of them. In a corner and hidden behind another body, he lay down and glanced up at him. The boss didn't really mind their cowardice. This wasn't the kind of enemy they could fight straight-up, not even with all the bravery in the world. Faced with overwhelming force, all they could do was await their final judgment. In fact, he'd rather his guys didn't injure themselves over a lost cause.

It's been a long time coming, the boss thought, and looked for the leader among the attackers.

Once the room had been cleared out, two figures entered, neither of whom fit in with the surroundings, or the rest of the intruders. A fat man dressed like a woman, all bright and with needless frills, stood next to a slim woman dressed like a man, wearing a warrior's battle robe. As their goons took apart the gang's remaining forces, these two held a conversation as if they were out on a stroll.

"Well, who said my methods were too rough?" the woman asked the man. "What about this is different from last time?"

"Back then, we dealt with a lord, and a business partner. This is different," the man argued as he carelessly waved around the room at the destruction his people had caused.

"Just because they're of lower status?" The woman scoffed. "Surely, your big brother wouldn't like that sort of attitude."

In response, the man turned to look at the woman. Apparently, her complaint had stung.

"No, it's because in places like these, no one will respect us if we show no strength first. Not to mention, we're not here for negotiations this time," he said, and carelessly turned around, to look at the boss who was making his way down the stairs. "We're here to bring gifts."

Whatever you're bringing, I don't want it, the boss thought bitterly.

"Whatever you say, great master." The woman shrugged. "By the way, is it fine for us to just come in here like this? Shouldn't we be wearing masks or something?"

"It's fine. Even if the people here see our faces, it doesn't really matter," the fat man explained. "Legally, their word is worthless as evidence, since they're of lower status than us. We just need to make sure the guards or scholars don't catch us in the act, and they can't do anything to us. I mean, that's why we had our guys clean out the street first, right?"

So they're not with the guards or the South-city Gang? Who are these people? Or are they lying?

While the boss was thinking about the origins of his mysterious guests, the woman focused on him for the first time since they had come in.

"So, do you want me to lead the talks?" she asked the man next to her. "I mean, we only managed those last negotiations thanks to me."

"No need, Lady." The fat man put on a fake smile as he also focused on the boss as well. "This time, you can watch a master at work."

While the two of them had been talking, the boss had finally made his way down the stairs. By now, all of his men had either fled the premises or had been subdued. Only he alone was left standing. With resentment-filled eyes, he stared at the two who had apparently ordered his destruction.

"So, are you here to end it?" he asked with the utmost contempt he could muster. "Took you long enough. At least you're not playing around any more."

Without any respect for the great force before him, the boss sat down on the only upright chair he could find. His legs spread and his arms crossed, he stared at the intruders with the most disrespect he could. Maybe if he made these people angry, they would make a mistake, or at least focus on him and leave his guys alone. However, the intruders' calm reaction disappointed him.

"We're not here to end anything. We are only here to present a business opportunity." The fat man's smile widened as he spoke. With calm, even steps, he walked up to the boss who had lost control of his own hideout. As if he owned the place, the chubby stranger came up to him, picked up a chair off the ground, carefully dusted it off, and sat opposite the boss.

Meanwhile, the girl kept standing near the front door by herself. For a while, the fat man simply stared at the boss with his harmless smile, until the boss could no longer take the silence.

"So who's sent you? Was it those bastards from the south? Or that lying guard captain?"

The local guard captain had always accepted his bribes, yet suddenly and without any warning, the captain's men had turned against his gang. He wouldn't be surprised if that man had sent some goons to clean him up, maybe out of fear that his trips to the gang's brothel might become public knowledge. The people who had just dealt with his men were certainly strong enough to be warrior guards, so it wouldn't have surprised the boss. However, the intruder just shook his head again.

"I'm here to represent only myself, and the Wonders of the World shop, which I serve as vice-president," the man said, and crossed his legs in a relaxed posture, as if he didn't have anything to fear. Although it was true, the intruder's attitude really annoyed the boss.

"A merchant then," he tried to provoke again. "So what does a simple merchant want here with me? How much copper have those South-city bastards given you to deal with me?"

Yet in response to the repeated provocations, the merchant just held his eerie smile.

"However much copper they have, it would not be enough to buy my loyalty. My friends are very rich, you know? And so am I."

As he spoke, this vice-president set a vial filled with a clear liquid on the floor between them. At first he had looked for a table nearby, but all the tables in the gambling house had been overturned. Once the vial had been set down with a clear clink, the merchant leaned back and crossed his arms. Clearly, he was waiting for some kind of reaction, but the boss just stared back at him.

"Won't you ask me what this is?" the merchant finally asked after the prolonged silence had become uncomfortable, while he pointed at the vial.

"Poison?" the boss asked back. This stranger wasn't asking him to commit suicide, right? Or maybe he was hiring him for an assassination? It wasn't the Portsiders' area of expertise, but he wouldn't decline the job in the latter case. At least then, they had a chance to survive the night, and they really needed the business.

"Always so dramatic. I like that. I'm quite fond of drama myself," the merchant said and laughed inexplicably. "No, it's not poison. It's rose water from my shop. Lavender flavor, to be exact, one of our bestsellers. This vial alone is worth 15 Sila, probably more than your little gambling hut here makes in a day, even at the best of times."

The boss stared at the vial, and finally bent forward. When he was about to touch it, he hesitated, and looked up at the merchant, whose slit eyes and smooth voice were like a snake's.

"You're allowed to take it. Don't worry."

Finally, the boss picked up the precious item and weighed it in his hands. Once he had taken the vial, the merchant laughed as if he had achieved something special.

"You can have this one for free, but for the rest, you'll have to pay," the man finally said. Once more, the boss became vigilant. Maybe the poison was smeared on the outside? Was this guy blackmailing him for the antidote?

"What do you mean?" the boss thus asked with trepidation. All the acted calm from before was completely gone by now.

"I'm ready to consider you a franchisee," the merchant explained. Though when the boss didn't react at all to the strange word, the intruder explained further. "That means you will be allowed to purchase the luxury items of the Wonders of the World directly from my stock."

"Purchase? So I'm your customer." This time, the words made the boss frown. So this guy really was after his money, what little he had left.

Though, not only were the Portsiders poor now, this certainly wasn't the way to make a sale. The boss had no interest in these goods which only those nobles and fat merchants would buy. Luckily, there was a fat merchant right here to alleviate his concerns, even before he could voice them.

"Oh no, you're certainly no customer," he said as he shook his head. "The purchase price will be quite reasonable, below what you would have to pay in my shop directly. After the purchase, the goods are yours. What you do with them at that point has nothing to do with me. You can use them yourself, or you can bribe officials with them, or you can sell them on for a higher price and pocket the difference. I am partial to the last option, personally."

The merchant winked, as if he had made a particularly successful joke. However, no one was laughing, not even among his own people. As far as the boss was concerned, the deal sounded too good to be true. There was never a free meal in this world, not for people like him.

"And what do you get out of this?" he thus tried to probe. "Is your shop not running well these days?"

In response, the merchant sighed dramatically.

"It seems you have been busy with your own affairs," he explained. "Those new scholars who have been bothering you also don't want me to sell my luxury goods to the good people of Rhodanos. They've essentially shut down my store, so business is certainly not booming."

Finally, everything clicked in the boss' head. Now he understood what this intruder wanted from him. This stranger was eager to start a riot in the city, and he didn't want to get his own hands dirty.

"You want me to deal with those South-city bastards for you. So I'm cannon fodder," he calmly judged.

This snake would give him these valuable goods to sell, which was certainly a great opportunity. Smuggling was always a profitable business. Yet if the boss accepted the deal, he would certainly clash with the South-city Gang, who were apparently eager to make these goods illegal. Maybe under the guise of scholars, they would try to rob his new smuggling operation. Greed on both sides would inevitably lead to a massive gang-war, one which would cost who knew how many souls, one which could spell the end for the Portsiders.

On the other side, the offer was almost too good to turn down, especially now that they were at the end of their rope. While the boss was still struggling to make a decision, the merchant just shrugged as if he didn't care about his choice at all.

"There's no great profits without great risks," he added. "Yes, if you want to protect your profits from this smuggling business, you might have to deal with minor interference from some competitors. Then again, that has nothing to do with me. I'm just here to offload some excess merchandise I have in stock. What you do with it, or what happens as a result, is none of my business."

Easy for you to say. It's not your life on the line, the boss thought.

By now, the vial in his hand started to look like poison again. Before he could come to a conclusion, the snake spoke up again to tempt him some more.

"You should think about this clearly. If you won't take my business, then I'll go ask someone else. You're not the only desperate gangster in this city, you know?"

Again, the boss was torn. For now, he thought it would be best to play for time. Maybe he could at least learn more about this snake, before he agreed to a deal that would get them all killed.

"I want to say yes, but I can't make the deal by myself. In here, we make all our decisions as a group," the boss lied. "Please wait for an answer until I've talked to my guys."

To his surprise, the snake didn't push him any further.

"Very well. In that case, I won't take up any more of your time," he simply said. "Due to matters of accountability and alibi, I cannot personally give you any details on our dealings. Someone will contact you soon. Should you have made a decision by then, we will be able to proceed with our business. Otherwise, I wish you the best of luck in your future endeavors."

The merchant stood up, and bowed deeply.

Acting as if he's my equal, while he treats me like a pawn, the boss thought. However, the merchant seemed to have no concerns for his thoughts, secure in his strength, and in the strength of his deal.

"I hope for a mutually profitable cooperation," he simply said and turned to leave. When he was already by the door, he turned around one final time.

"Oh, and by the way, you don't need to worry about the city guards," he added. "However rough you guys decide to play this time, I guarantee you that they will no longer get involved. We have made sure of that."

Thus, under the baffled eyes of the boss, the mysterious intruders left as quickly and silently as they had arrived, leaving behind only his destroyed gambling house, as well as a single glass vial in his hand.

Hermit's Notes: Sorry about the reference in the title.

Chapter 456 - Idiot (Part 2)

What had happened? Why was this guy suddenly so nice to Inti, when he had been so mean to Brym all this time? Wasn't he a traditional medalan warrior, who all looked down on women? Or was he just horny, and that was why he went easy on her? He did have more lovers than fingers, after all, so that made sense.

"Lady Inti truly is powerful, just as the rumors had said," the lord flattered in the meantime, which made Brym only more suspicious. "This old man was no match, as expected of General Atoc's daughter."

"Oh please, Lord Gratidia, this lady only succeeded in a sneak attack. In a proper duel, not many would be able to match a veteran hero of the great civil war," Inti flattered right back.

"Haha, this old man was never great. Rather, he simply had the honor to serve under lady's father. General Atoc was a truly great man, one who still knew how Medalans fight their wars, unlike those kids today."

By now, Brym's brain had jump started again and he was putting the pieces together in his head. As he was looking back and forth as Inti and Gratidia traded compliments, he slowly figured out why his treatment had been so different from his companion's.

To Lord Gratidia — a meathead who only cared about fighting — Brym was just an Arcavian, outsider. According to self-satisfied Medalans — especially the old generation — everyone outside of Medala would be considered a weakling in the first place. His second identity had been a representative of the south — a force which Gratidia had personally defeated, though it was already decades ago. Finally, Brym tried to score points with his role as a merchant, but those were considered useless by most medalan nobles anyways. From the very start, Brym didn't have a chance, not with any of his prestigious identities.

Meanwhile, Inti worked for the south as well, but wasn't an actual southerner at all. Instead, she was born and raised in Arguna, and was thus considered a proper member of the northern warrior class. Even the most snobbish of lords would acknowledge her status.

Not only that, her role in the Triumvirate Meetings further improved her position. No matter how empty the position was in reality, it was still an official position in Arguna, and at an institution of the empire to boot, as opposed to a simple role at one of the newly founded courts of the three kingdoms.

To finish it all off, her father had been a famous warrior as well, one Lord Gratidia had fought under directly. Not to mention, after the lord had been defeated by Inti in battle, he could not help but acknowledge her. If he still looked down on her at that point, he would only humiliate himself after his defeat.

Thus Brym found himself in this strange position, in which Inti and the lord were chatting like old friends, while he himself looked on like an outsider. However, the young merchant wasn't all too bothered. Instead, he saw opportunity in adversity.

All this time, I've had a treasure traveling with me and I didn't notice. I should have asked Inti to help me out way earlier.

With such a secret weapon by his side, his available tactics during negotiations would considerably expand as well. Yet just as Brym was happy about his new options, and just as he wanted to insert himself into the conversation again to strike up a deal, Inti betrayed the trust Brym had just invested in her.

"As this lord has stated before, it is impossible for this lord to side with the south against King Amautu," Gratidia patiently explained to Inti, much unlike his gruff attitude towards Brym. "While this lord has great respect for the late emperor and wishes to side with his eldest son to ensure appropriate succession, the south simply does not possess the strength in the north to protect this lord's weakened house, nor his estate ravaged by war."

"Clearly, lord underestimates the power of the south around Arguna, a power which has been proven many times over the past years," Inti began her betrayal. "After all, the southern kingdom has long worked with the northern barbarians, as well as the bandits along the major trade routes, to disturb King Amautu's plans."

"Is that true?" a shocked Gratidia asked, and looked at Brym for confirmation, for the first time in a while.

"Yes, I have been personally responsible for many contacts with independent freedom fighters in the countryside," he admitted, though with a frown. "In fact, the impact of the bandit raids has previously forced the northern king to cooperate with us by protecting our property rights in Porcero."

Although Brym was unhappy that Inti had just released sensitive information without clearing it with him first, he had no choice but to act casual and play along. Though in the first place, it wasn't a big secret anyways. After years of operations, most of the northern lords would know who the bandits were associated with by now. The only reason Amautu hadn't made trouble for them over it was that he didn't have any concrete evidence, and that the bandits had restrained their actions ever since the Porcero issue. The fact that Gratidia didn't know about any of that said a lot about his political ability. The more he thought about it, talking about an open secret was hardly Inti's fault.

"Ah, indeed. This lord has heard the story, though was unaware that bandits were involved in the negotiations," Gratidia pretended to remember. As far as Brym could tell, this lord was completely unaware of anything happening outside of his own estate. How could a neighbor of Arguna be this poorly informed?

"In that case, Lord Gratidia can see that we are indeed able to influence the northern kingdom's court," Inti argued while Brym was still reassessing the lord's value in his head. "While the distances are too vast to directly intervene with the southern army, we certainly have enough strength to put pressure on the northern king and ease Lord Gratidia's burden."

For a while, Lord Gratidia went silent and mulled over his options, or at least that was what Brym hoped for. So far, the lord had surprised him more than once with his unreasonable attitude.

"And what is it the southern kingdom wants in return for my help?" the lord finally asked, his first proper reaction in a while. Brym could barely contain his excitement when he finally saw the hint of an agreement looming over the horizon. Ever since Inti had entered the room, the mood had really started to turn for the better.

"All we ask for in return is mutually beneficial cooperation," Brym said immediately, eager to capitalize on the chance. "After all, it is in our interest that the power of the scholars be reduced in the northern estates, as it is in Lord Gratidia's. Once Rhodanos returns to its rightful owner, we only ask for our trade access to remain unrestricted, just the same as before."

And then I can finally start selling you my bonds. You're really not making this easy for me, are you?

Predictably, the timid lord shook his head again.

"However, it is impossible for House Gratidia to directly oppose the orders of the scholar king. House Gratidia's forces have been weakened too much," he argued.

"Weakened?" a baffled Brym asked. "The last war between north and center ended quite a while ago. Most involved estates should have replenished their forces by now. Although damages to Rhodanos were quite severe, Gratidia's troops should have been largely rebuilt as well, should they not?"

In response, Gratidia sighed.

"Indeed, they should have. However, most young warriors have been sent to Challwala, to serve in the scholastic guard. Without any men, this lord cannot build an army."

"Wait, the king's special army?" a confused Brym asked. "Why would the warriors of the noble houses serve directly under the king?"

"Maybe you're unaware, but since around halfway through the last war against Pacha, Amautu has begun to recruit new warriors for his scholastic guard from the estates. He was probably running out of his own," Inti explained. "The guard has also grown rapidly since that time, though we don't know how strong their combat power is, since it is cobbled together from different forces. Every estate is ordered to supply a certain amount of warriors to join the king's scholastic guard. In return, the warriors are supposed receive a proper education, to lead them out of the darkness. An army of true scholars, or so they say."

Inti scoffed at the grandiose statement, and Brym couldn't help but do the same.

"Sounds like they're just recruiting cannon fodder," he commented.

Compared to this scholastic guard, Saniya's soldiers weren't forced levies, all of them had been recruited of their own free will. Not only that, they were also receiving a proper education designed by his big brother, unlike whatever brainwashing these scholastic guards were going through.

"The constant loss of House Gratidia's young warriors has severely crippled the house, while strengthening the northern king's power," the lord complained to interrupt Brym's thoughts. "Thus, it is impossible for the house to oppose the king, lest this lord's own men return under the scholar king's banner to raze Rhodanos."

As Brym looked at the elder lord's miserable appearance and his helpless sigh, he couldn't help but think that this Lord Gratidia was... an idiot. Surely, no other lord in the north was fulfilling these tyrannical orders dutifully. If they were, he would have long heard complaints from his friends in Eastern Medala.

Off the top of his head, Brym himself could come up with countless methods to deal with the king's orders. Lords could deliberately misrepresent the number of warriors under their command, so they wouldn't have to send so many. They could exaggerate the threat of local bandits or act out internal conflicts between each other, for an excuse to defer the sending of troops. They could just send members of the warrior class who didn't have a fighting education, even women or old men. Of course, they could always just dress up commoners as warriors and send them over, like Loreius had done at the end of the last war.

Surely, the other lords would have thought of dozens more ways to defy the northern king's orders without making themselves the target of Amautu's revenge. Probably only this guy, with his estate furthest away from Amautu's seat of power, was dumb enough to follow the orders by the letter, until his force was almost completely hollowed out. Of course, Brym couldn't say the truth to the fool's face. They still needed his cooperation to fight the scholars, after all.

"Not to worry, Lord Gratidia," he thus said, together with a comforting smile that took all of his acting practice to perform. "You are not expected to fight the northern troops directly. In fact, no one is. All we ask is for you to stay hidden — and thus neutral — for a while longer. And if the scholars ask you to get involved directly, just pretend to be so weakened that you can no longer control your estate. We will handle the rest."

By now, a plan had begun to form in Brym's head, one which seemed quite suitable to deal with this new threat in the north. It was an economic solution to a cultural and military problem, very much to his liking.

Now that he had met the lord and understood that he didn't like the scholars either, the plan could go ahead. As for the great Lord Gratidia himself? Based on Brym's assessment of the lord, it would be the most helpful if he stayed out of it. With this guy's ability, he would just mess things up more if he got involved too much.

Conversely, if things went as planned, Rhodanos would become a prime example for dealing with Amautu's power grab, one to be repeated throughout the north.

Hermit's Notes: What a mess. Another simple chapter, which mysteriously turned into two. I do a much better job of being concise in the next few chapters, I promise.

Chapter 455 - Idiot (Part 1)

This has to be the least dignified Lord I've ever met.

In Brym's opinion Lord Gratidia looked like a bum. Without any tension in his body — much unlike his vigilant appearance when he had first entered the room — the lord sat slumped in his chair and stared at Brym with murky eyes. Since he didn't have any time to get dressed, his clothes were simple, thin robes for sleeping, which made the combative lord in his fifties look like he was well over sixty.

Sure, they had surprised him in the middle of the night and caught him probably at the worst moment, but it still was an undignified look for a territorial ruler, one of less than a hundred high nobles in Medala. Though Brym wasn't exactly eager to complain about the lord's miserable appearance either.

Even if Inti's plan was silly, at least it properly disarmed my opponent. The man looks like he's about to fold in half at the slightest pressure. Let's not overdo it for now, before he does something radically stupid.

Since he didn't want to overexcite his guest, Brym wouldn't apply any pressure for now. Releasing pressure would sometimes be more effective in negotiations than applying it, since a sudden release would make others thankful, and lax in their responses. Thus, Brym patiently waited until the unsettled Lord Gratidia had taken a seat opposite him. Only then did he present his politest version of his standard introduction.

"Good morning, Lord Gratidia. Please allow me to introduce myself. My name is Brymstock Fastgrade di Pluritac. I am the minister of finance for the Kingdom of the South, and thus part of King Corcopaca's privy council. In addition, I am the head of the Medalan Central Bank, as well as vice-president of the Wonders of the World line of shops."

It was a well-practiced introduction, and one which usually had quite the impact. His polite bow was contrasted by his impressive array of titles to create powerful combination. Over the past months, Brym had introduced himself in similar variations to quite a number of lords. All of them had looked impressed, or even intimidated. Not one had been left indifferent. In that regard, this Lord Gratidia was the first. Despite his apparent weakness, he didn't seem to care about Brym's identity at all. Rather, his body tensed again, and he straightened up in his chair.

"Where are my people? Where's Arria?" he yelled unreasonably. Maybe this guy just mistook Brym's politeness for weakness? Not for the first time since the start of this operation, Brym had to suppress a sigh. Clearly, today wasn't his day, or maybe he was just surrounding himself with the wrong people.

"Again, as I've said before, your lover is fine, and so are your men," Brym repeated, still as patient as before, though he at least hinted that he had hostages, just in case this unreasonable lord did anything drastically stupid. "They are currently being entertained off the premises, and should be enjoying their time a lot more than either of us are right now. At the very least, they aren't stuck in this cold, little room here, without any tea or refreshments."

The little joke was meant to be endearing, another attempt to lighten the depressing mood in the room. Many people would feel closer in the face of shared misery. Yet once again, Lord Gratidia defied his expectations. This time, he didn't react at all. He just stared at Brym with unblinking eyes, maybe in an attempt to guess whether or not he was lying.

Staring won't help you. I've been lying to kings since I was a kid.

At the dubious honor, Brym had to stifle a smirk rather than a sigh this time. Compared to the young merchant's vast experience of fooling people on several continents, this old lord didn't have a chance. Meanwhile the lord in question finally seemed to have made some decision. Rather than reply, he moved on to the next, unrelated question.

"How did you find me here?"

Bit by bit, the lord seemed to be waking up from his previous slump. By now he already looked somewhat sharp again, though his appearance was still a bit embarrassed. Maybe he had only felt humiliated after being beaten by a woman, and maybe being alone with the harmless looking Brym had returned his confidence. Sometimes, having an approachable face was a real disadvantage too.

"Clearly, you are underestimating the power of the southern kingdom," Brym shot back.

If he was honest, he himself had underestimated 'the power of the southern kingdom' before tonight. Rather, he had underestimated the power the ghost warriors had in the north, which had proven to be quite frightening.

His own people — who were a well-established presence in the city of Rhodanos and the surrounding region, with good connections to both wealthy commoners and nobles — had no idea where this Lord Gratidia had been hiding, yet the ghosts had held the information at the ready this whole time.

Not only had they known about all of Gratidia's lovers, they had also known which one the lord was staying with tonight. They had even known the exact room he was sleeping in within this courtyard. If that much hadn't already been enough, they had known about this secret room hidden in some random rock in the garden, and that Gratidia would retreat here once confronted with danger.

Maybe we should take more advantage of their information network. It seems quite beneficial, Brym tried to stay positive. He just hoped that his big brother knew what he was doing by giving the ghosts this much free reign.

"Your barbarian southern kingdom and power?" the lord finally asked back, his voice tinged in disdain. "Hiding in the shadows, nothing more. If your little spy hadn't attacked this lord from the back, none of you would still be alive. The south has no power at all, not this far north."

Right, he didn't like southerners, Brym finally remembered.

After all, this man had made his fortune by fighting the southern lords in the great civil war decades back. Not only did he dislike them, he would also consider them weak, since they had been the defeated party in that conflict. Surely, this man's mind had twisted the close and bloody conflict into a heroic victory tour with himself in the leading role. Maybe if he was reminded of his own weakness, the lord would be more willing to cooperate.

"Well, to me it seems like Lord Gratidia himself has only limited power this far north," Brym hinted at the lord's predicament.

Although he didn't like the southerners, the lord surely would be able to recognize just how cornered he was by the actions of the scholars. If he could admit that much, they would have a basis for negotiations, at least. Yet once again, Gratidia's grumpy face only became grumpier.

"Is that a threat?" the lord growled.

"No, a simple reminder that our enemies are the same." Brym remained calm, despite the man's clearly deliberate attempts at misunderstanding him. "I dislike the scholars, and what they have done to our stores in the north. Surely, Lord Gratidia would feel the same about the terror they had caused to the good people of Rhodanos."

Maybe, Brym thought, rather than talk to a southern minister, the lord would be happier to negotiate with the prestigious Wonders of the World shop's vice-president. After all, Brym knew that Lord Gratidia himself had been a regular customer at the Wonders of the World, although he never had bought all that much, owing to his limited wealth. While the position associated Brym with commoners, at least he wouldn't be representing the southern kingdom this way.

"The scholars were sent from King Amautu, and they have every right to enforce the king's law." The lord remained stubborn. Still, at least his stiff posture had eased somewhat.

Southerners equal enemies, and commoners are fine, I guess, Brym summarized. Slowly, he was getting somewhere. Now he just had to argue based on logic, and based on Medalan tradition. This guy looked like someone who valued at least the latter, if not the former.

"Does the king's law supercede the lord's law though? I mean, even the late Emperor Titu was only the first among many. What makes that northern king look down on his lords so much that he can interfere in their private estates?" Brym tried to stoke the flames. In response, Lord Gratidia harrumphed, either annoyed at Brym or at his king.

"Any issues with their king, the northern lords will handle themselves. The southern kingdom has neither power nor authority to get involved in the northern kingdom's affairs."

Finally, the lord had indirectly admitted his distaste for Amautu's power grab. At the very least, he had positioned King Amautu and the northern lords on opposite sides. This was something Brym could work with, finally. Now he just had to convince Gratidia that the south could indeed protect him from Amautu in the north, and they could work out a deal.

"Now then, the south should not be underestimated." Brym spoke quickly, encouraged by the slow but steady progress he had made so far. "From an economic perspective, the south has long surpassed the northern kingdom. By now, Saniya exceeds every city bar Arguna in prosperity. And the war in the south has also proven that the southern king can field a large army and fight the foreign invaders with it."

"An army of commoners." Gratidia just scoffed at Corco's terrifying army of thirty thousand, which had just conquered a star fortress. "This lord is not fooled. Not only are the southern troops all commoners, their only victory came against other southerners. Barbarians defeating barbarians is no achievement."

"What about King Pachacutec's attack on Qarasi Castle?" Brym tried to argue.

"More weakness from weaklings. Unlike the useless Pachacutec, Emperor Titu conquered the Narrows decades prior. Back then, the southerners were still fierce, at least. Today's so-called 'hero king' cannot even manage that much. Yet King Amautu is different. The scholar king's scholastic guard would be enough to destroy the merchant king's so-called army on its own."

And he didn't even comment on our economic performance, Brym thought with a look at the old man's self-satisfied face after bragging about his outdated achievements. Maybe he doesn't understand, actually.

"However, even without considering military might, the south certainly has considerable influence in the north. Many lords in eastern Medala are quite close to the southern king, House Petrocilius chief among them," Brym tried again. Even if this lord didn't respect the southern armies, maybe he would at least respect his fellow lords in the north. Yet once again, Gratidia's stubbornness astonished him.

"What good are those eastern fossils across the mountains?" he shot back. "And in a war, this lord would love to see how many would truly side with the south, with the northern king's armies at their doorstep."

Oh boy, what a pain. It's like this guy made up his mind a long time ago, and now nothing gets through to him. How will I ever sell my bonds this way?

Just as there was a lull in the conversation while Brym was considering his next move to soften up the stubborn old man's resolve, Inti returned with a tray of freshly brewed tea. While the two seated men were watching wordlessly, the woman in a man's clothing put the tray down onto the only table in the room, and then distributed three cups atop. After she was done, rather than pour the tea, she left the room as wordlessly as she had entered.

I wonder, is she still angry because I criticized her counterproductive plan today?" Brym wondered. "Wait, three cups?

Just in time, he realized what the third cup on the table meant, before Inti reentered the room with a third chair under her arm. Before anyone could say anything, she slammed the chair down onto the stone floor.

"Greetings, Lord Gratidia," Inti finally introduced herself, rather than sit down. Unlike Brym's assumption, she didn't look or sound angry at all. Rather, she sounded like a proper medalan noble. "This lady's name is Inti di Pluritac, daughter of General Atoc di Pluritac, and current representative of the King of the South at the Triumvirate in Arguna."

Let's see how this old guy is gonna complain about your introduction, Brym thought, not without a bit of self-satisfaction at the thought of a fellow sufferer under the old lord's moods. Yet to his shock, the lord responded politely. He even stood up first, to meet Inti at eye-level.

"This lord welcomes you to this courtyard, lady. Unfortunately, accommodations here are poor. Rather than this simple room, House Gratidia's main manor would have been a more suitable meeting place. Nevertheless, his lord hopes he will not appear as a poor host."

"Oh, no need to worry, Lord Gratidia, this lady has learned a simple soldier's life from her father and is not too delicate. Though if nothing else, the tea is sure to be delicious."

As Inti poured the tea and the two of them were making small talk, a baffled Brym tried to make sense of this new development.

Hermit's Notes: Hello again, here I am, posting chapters. 

I'll be posting a bunch more, basically to catch back up with everything. I've been writing this whole time, but wasn't really sure about the further direction of this arc for a while, so I held back on posting for a while until everything had been figured out. 

I'll write a more comprehensive update on things tomorrow or the day after, whenever I have time. Holidays are always stressful. Oh, also, while I'm at it: happy easter, in case you're celebrating that.

Finally, as a minor aside, I replaced all prior instances of the term Elder Council with Ancestral Hall, because that was clearly wrong, and I just had forgotten the old term I used. The old one sounds a lot better anyways, I think.

Anyways, I know I made you wait too long this time, so as penance I'll have to post a ton now. Better get going.

Cheers,

S.H.

Chapter 454 - Villains

"Arria."

As Lord Gratidia stroked the cold and empty spot next to his own on the bed, he remembered that this was the room of one of his lovers, a place he had used to hide away from his responsibilities.

After years of erosion, the King of the North could now exert almost as much power as House Gratidia within the city of Rhodanos. Even so, there was nothing the lord could do to stop their further encroachment.

When the northerners had sent the newest batch of scholars, they had proven to be thieves and thugs, who charged into his city and robbed anything their lowly eyes deemed valuable, like raiders on a military campaign. It was already the final provocation from the northern king's courtiers. If Lord Gratidia didn't act against them this time, he knew that they would soon take over his lands completely, emboldened by his silence.

Even then, even when confronted with countless complaints from his own warriors, he couldn't bring himself to oppose King Amautu's shameless actions. He knew such opposition would only spell a quicker doom for his very young house. As a weak, rebellious lord, he would soon be turned into an example by the ambitious scholar king.

However, ignoring the complaints of his people would lead to deadly consequences as well. These loyal warriors were the last bit of real power House Gratidia had left, and losing their support was equal to a death sentence.

Thus, he had done the only thing he could think of: He had hidden away. Since the complaints had become overwhelming, he had announced that he would leave on a tour of the countryside. Of course, he didn't really have the leisure to travel around, not when his home was in crisis.

Instead, he spent every day visiting another one of his lovers in the city. In his time, the lord had been quite the romantic, and had cultivated intimate relationships with a number of ladies. Thus, he could simply hop from one bed to the next day after day, most completely unknown to the intruders. Not even the scholars would find him if he always changed his location.

Thus, he had watched from here as more and more of his city had been taken over by these fake scholars. All he could do in response was hope for a miracle to turn the tides.

Now, something had finally happened, but it just felt like an extension of his nightmare, rather than good news. He was still in Arria's house, where he had fallen asleep, but his lover had disappeared without a word. She wouldn't just let him lie here alone, of that he was certain. Something was very wrong.

"Guards!" He shouted for support, and took a vigilant stance, ready for intruders to react to his call. Yet although he called out several more times, no one ever answered. Neither any perceived assassins came, nor any of his own guards. The people here were the most loyal among his warriors, long-standing battle companions, and the only ones he had trusted to protect him in this secret location. They wouldn't just disappear without notice, and neither would Arria. He couldn't just stay here. Both were in danger, he could feel it.

Despite his flaws in the political arena, Lord Gratidia was no ordinary man, or he would have never become a lord. Rather than get nervous in the face of danger, he calmed down instead. Sure, the political traps of the scholar king terrified him. After all, it was an enemy he was unfamiliar with, one he didn't know how to fight. However, he had made his fortune on the battlefield, and he knew how to defend himself, even in his older years. This was a threat he knew well, this was something he could fight.

Thus determined to get to the bottom of things, he held his axe tighter and stepped out of the bedroom, into the darkness of his lover's small courtyard. Since he had many such lovers, but not a lot of money, he couldn't afford large manors for all of them. All he could give them were slightly larger courtyards in his own city. Thus, he quickly made it through the small complex.

Of course, his goal wasn't the outside. If someone was after his life, the outside wouldn't be safe anymore. In the darkness, all kinds of people could just sneak up on him. Not only that, he also didn't know where Arria was, or his guards. If he could, he had to make sure they were safe first, rather than escape by himself. His honor demanded it. However, the complex remained conspicuously empty, with no signs of a fight either.

Thus without a better option, he decided to seek out a hidden, fortified position, where he could hold out until morning. With any luck, the others had had the same idea, and would hide out in the courtyard's secret room.

On swift and silent steps, Lord Gratidia made his way towards the small salon hidden deep within the courtyard, determined to make good on his past cowardice. In many noble manors, such a secret room had been built for secret meetings, or to hide precious goods. Some ordinary families had such rooms as well, to hide their valuables or themselves from warrior raids during the city's sacking, or from bandits.

This salon in particular only had a single entrance, hidden on a fake rock between two jasmine shrubs in the courtyard's small inner garden. The room could only be accessed with one of two keys, one of which belonged to Arria, the owner of the courtyard. The other, Gratidia had been carrying on his person ever since he had come here yesterday, an old habit from his time as a warrior. After all, without an exit strategy, even the bravest fighter would never survive to old age.

Once he reached the spot between the bushes and found the well-concealed lock in the large, decorative rock formation, the lord took a deep breath. Even if attackers had taken Arria, they wouldn't know about this secret location, so he was safe from here on.

In the best case, he would find his lover and his guards inside. Yet even in the worst case, he could safely wait out the night and then make his escape the next morning. After all, only once he was safe could he mobilize the rest of his men to find the attackers, and his lover.

With a plan in hand, he pulled the key from the chain around his neck, and turned the lock as quietly as he could. However, the darkness inside disappointed him. Neither his lover nor his guards were here.

Don't worry, Arria. If harm has come to you, I shall vow to take my revenge. Even if my foe is the king himself, this time I will retreat no more.

Disappointed, the lord entered the pitch-black room with careful steps. As a secret hideout, the room had no windows, of course, so he could see nothing. Yet just as he entered, before he could fully relax, he felt that something was off.

A faint breath, from the front. Someone else is in here!

Yet he could no longer act on his thought before a sudden bright flash appeared and took away his sight. For a second, Gratidia was blinded, just enough time to take up a defensive stance, though his caution seemed unnecessary. When his eyes adjusted and he saw his opponent, his caution waned straight away.

Across from Lord Gratidia, in one of the two chairs within the small room hidden within the rock, sat a little fat man. Next to him stood the oil lamp which had produced the blinding flash, as well as the black wax cloth which had covered its light before. Clearly, this man had been waiting for him. However, he didn't seem like a threat, as he was spread out on the chair like an overstuffed sausage, his legs crossed like a woman. All plumped up and wearing the frills of a merchant, this one was no warrior, and certainly no threat.

No, stay sharp, Gratidia reminded himself.

This merchant could still be dangerous, no matter how harmless he appeared. Maybe he was wearing a disguise, or maybe he was carrying a pistol on his body. If nothing else, Gratidia had at least found his enemy now, the first person he had met since waking up. Now, there was some clarity. With a target presented in front of him at last, the lord could abandon his defensive stance and go on the attack. In all meanings of the phrase, he had been stumbling around in the dark until now. Somehow, he had to regain the initiative. It was time to pressure his opponents.

"Where's Arria!?" Gratidia thus shouted, an aggressive move to startle his enemy. However, the fat merchant just smiled in response.

"No need to worry, Lord Gratidia. Lady Arria is unharmed," the fat man explained. "But since this is supposed to be a private discussion, we have advised her to temporarily clear the premises."

The strange man's calm demeanor unsettled the lord, who had no idea what his opponent was talking about. However, he knew that he couldn't show any weakness, not now.

"Don't think I'm helpless because you caught me off guard this one time," he thus cautioned his foe. "If you harm her-"

"No, I have no interest in harming anyone," the fat man interrupted, and raised both hands. "I haven't come to make enemies. I have only come to talk."

When the merchant had raised his hands, Gratidia had instinctively lowered his stance, ready to evade a pistol or thrown weapon. However, his opponent only showed that his hands were empty, unarmed and harmless. It was clearly a sign of peace, but also one of weakness. Thus emboldened, the lord decided to press the issue further.

"Oh, you will talk, fat man," he said, and added a menacing grin to show strength. "Of that this lord will make certain."

Ready to extract the information he needed, Gratidia raised his axe and came towards the intruder. However, the man didn't look panicked, much unlike a defenseless commoner merchant should. He only looked a bit worried as he stared at Gratidia. A second too late, the lord realized that the intruder wasn't staring at him at all. He was looking over his shoulder, at a spot behind him, and he wasn't worried about himself.

Before the lord could react, someone had come up from behind and held his axe-wielding arm at his elbow, to immobilize his movements. The attacker had come silently, without any prior warning, and had considerable strength. Gratidia hadn't even felt their breath before he had been overwhelmed. This second intruder clearly was a professional, but that wasn't an excuse for the lord's failure.

All this time, Lord Gratidia had been too focused on the commoner in front, and had totally forgotten to check for other threats in the tiny room. Although he knew it was already too late, the lord wanted to resist and tried to wiggle his arm free. Yet before he could, he felt a blade against his left flank, ready to pierce his innards if he didn't cease all resistance at once.

Sloppy, slow. The younger me would have never been caught like that.

"Go on then, do your worst," the defeated lord growled, but the intruder in front only looked a bit uncomfortable at Gratidia's determination.

"We're really only here to talk. Please don't get excited," the intruder tried to calm down the lord, before he looked at his hidden companion behind Gratidia once again. "See, I told you your plan was a bad idea."

"What do you mean?" the second attacker replied. Shockingly, it was a woman's voice he heard next to his left ear, despite the attacker's apparent strength. "My plan worked perfectly. I told you he would show up here when he woke up alone, and I told you he would come with a weapon and had to be disarmed first. Everything that happened, I predicted perfectly."

"Yes, you did. But we're here to negotiate, not to rob the place." The fat man sighed, still comfortably seated after witnessing a fight. "I mean, look at me. I look like a villain here, sitting in the darkness with my legs crossed like this. This is not a constructive way to start talks."

While the two intruders were having their own little argument, Lord Gratidia was still held hostage between them. Although it seemed like they wouldn't hurt him for now, he was still extremely confused.

"What is happening here?" he simply asked, hoping for some answers. The empty courtyard, the strange intruders and their surreal conversation, none of what was happening here made sense. Just as Gratidia thought that maybe he was still dreaming, the fat man looked at the lord again.

"I'm truly sorry about this, Lord Gratidia. But could you please let go of your axe for now?" he said, still with that immovable smile. "I know this must all be very confusing for you, but the confusion was part of the plan, for some reason I cannot fathom."

Again, he stared at the female attacker behind the lord. In response, the woman explained: "In times of confusion, any target will revert back to proven strategies, and thus becomes more predictable."

I am the target, Gratidia understood.

"Sure." The fat man replied in an insincere tone, followed by a second, more tired sigh. Apparently frustrated with his companion, the man turned to the lord again. "Anyways, could I please bother you to drop your axe, Lord Gratidia? I really didn't come to harm you, or any of your people. My friend back there is just a bit overexcited since she's been out of work for a while. So don't be too harsh on her. If we could all just calm down and drop our weapons, we would all be much happier."

If they wanted me dead, they would have done it long ago.

Slowly, as he collected more and more information on the intruders, the lord calmed down again. Whatever this intrusion was, it probably was no threat to his life, at least not for now. Not to mention, this crisis probably couldn't be solved through violence. He was alone, and almost completely immobilized. Resistance would just get himself killed. Finally, Gratidia let go of the axe to end the long standoff.

"Thank you. I think we can have a good talk now." The fat man sounded genuinely relieved, but who knew what he was really thinking. Again, he turned to the second intruder. "Please, Lady Inti, could you let go of our guest and make us some tea? We'll need some to calm our nerves, after this mess of an introduction."

Only a snort responded to the fat man, but the hand around his elbow let go, and the knife in his side disappeared as well. By the time Lord Gratidia turned around, he only saw shoulder-length hair and men's clothing, as they left the room for the outside. Still confused, the lord turned once again to the seated attacker. While acting like the host in another man's home, the fat man motioned to the chair opposite him.

"Please, Lord Gratidia, have a seat," he said, still armed with nothing but a dangerous smile. "We have much to talk about."

Hermit's Notes: There we go, all caught up. Maybe these chapters are a bit slow again, especially the dream sequence. I might end up reworking some of this eventually, and combine a few of these chapters together.

Chapter 453 - The Last Piece

For a while, the desk-carrying group continued to walk in relative silence, until the young commoner stopped in front of a large, brightly lit courtyard.

Not long after, the group was inside the private residence. While the guards were setting up the new furniture based on the commoners' wishes, Inti and Brym stood aside to continue their conversation.

"They really are living simple lives, and in such a large courtyard to boot," Inti commented. She looked around, and indeed, the new table fit in neatly with the surrounding furniture, all of which wouldn't have looked out of place in an ordinary farmer's home.

"This is the powder keg we've buried in the north. Sooner or later, someone will hold a match to it, and then the whole kingdom will go up in flames," Brym said with a sort of grim pride. However, Inti wasn't quite so optimistic about the southern kingdom's plans in the north.

"That day could come sooner than you may hope," she said. "Sooner than you may be ready for."

"In that case, could you finally tell me what you know, Lady Inti?" Brym said, and when Inti hesitated, he added: "We are in an independent courtyard, in a large, mostly empty room. You don't think anyone is still spying on us, do you?"

"What about them?" Inti asked, and motioned towards the owners of the residence.

"You really don't need to worry about them. They're on our side." By now, even the always patient Brym looked a bit unhappy. Maybe a day full of uncertainty had eaten away at his patience. Still, Inti was unconvinced.

"Are they trustworthy just because they've bought from your shop?" she asked.

"No, they are trustworthy because they have much more to hide than us. However much damage they could do to us by learning your information, it would be nothing compared to this family's secrets. Here, didn't you want to know what else was special about this table?"

With a mysterious smile, Brym walked up to the table, twisted an overhanging wooden frame at the bottom of the desk's top plate, and then pushed it in. While he held it pushed, he lifted up the plate itself. In response, the entire wooden slab simply flipped open. The hidden mechanism revealed a small holder for a candle and a bowl for sacrificial offerings, which were flanked by another two holders for incense sticks.

"It's a beacon shrine," Inti realized.

These beacons were used by the people of Medala to pray to their deceased while they were on their journey through the underworld, to the stars. Most likely, someone had just died in this commoner family. This was the reason they had been so eager to see the table delivered today. However, something still didn't add up.

"Why would anyone have to hide a beacon shrine?" she asked. After all, it was an ordinary object of worship common in every Medalan household, not some smuggled good.

"You heard the scholars earlier. Apparently, the Pacha faith falls under 'rural superstition' these days. Selling beacon shrines, or anything similar, is not allowed any longer."

"Do they really want to force the people into a revolt?" Inti added after a shocked gasp. This was too outrageous, right? If they tried to take away the faith of the people, surely they would stand up in rebellion sooner or later, right?

"That, or they want to subdue and control them completely," Brym commented with the same grim determination as before. "Either way, the people here will be in deep trouble if the scholars learn about the shrine, so they won't betray us."

"I suppose this fits neatly with my own findings," Inti finally said, though only after she had taken a moment to compose herself.

Now that she knew a deadly secret of these commoners, there was little reason to suspect them further. As far as this rotten city was concerned, this place would be as safe as any other. Thus, she began to explain what she had learned from the local ghost forces.

"The so-called scholarly court — that is, King Amautu and his teacher and fellow disciples — have been sending out their scholars to control the independent estates of the northern kingdom. Apparently, they have had problems with disobedience at the local level before."

"Wait, so those people actually are scholars? Why did they seem so..." Brym was looking for words, but Inti already had them ready in spades.

"Uneducated? Boorish? Vulgar?" she offered. "Only their leader should be a real scholar, if there is one at all. The rest are local robbers, who have been hired to enforce the will of the court out here. It seems they don't have nearly enough scholars to control the entire kingdom, so this is their solution."

"So they send one scholar into an estate, then hand out some white robes to local criminals and give them free reign on their activities in the city, so long as they help enforce the will of the court," Brym put together the plan.

"Yes, and the local lords can't just stop the criminals or throw out the scholars, because attacking a scholar means declaring war against the king," Inti explained. It was another dangerous, all-or-nothing scheme from this northern court, which seemed dead-set on either subduing everyone or forcing a revolt.

"Right, now I understand where the fake scholars came from," Brym summed up. "But what are they doing in front of my shop? I mean, I'm not a lord, and neither are most of my customers."

"Apparently, the shops are seen as a problem by the king, since your success is funneling too much gold out of the kingdom and into the treasury of an enemy." As she explained, Inti had to smile at Brym's proud look when he was affirmed in the success of his business. "At least that's what my people tell me. Though it's also possible that the northerners already know that the ghosts have been operating out of the shops since the start of the year."

In fact, Inti felt a bit guilty about the involvement of the ghosts. Most likely, her mother had suggested to use the northern shops as contact points, and now they had implicated Brym's business. And yet, the businessman in question didn't seem bothered by her guilt at all. Instead, he stroked his stubble, seemingly deep in thought.

"Maybe they're aiming at the lords this time as well, and we're just caught in the middle," he commented. "Many lords have found the wares in my shops quite suitable for their tastes. If the shops are closed down, the lords might be more inclined to act on the false scholars, thus prompting a justified response from the court."

"So it might just be another provocation. Either way, it won't change our problem, fundamentally," Inti concluded.

For a while, the two simply stood in silence. As Inti looked up to the darkening sky, where stars would appear any moment, she felt a heavy weight on her back.

"So what do we do now?" Inti finally asked. "We certainly can't sell any bonds so long as the city is like this. And we can't just let them close your businesses and enslave our northern allies either, can we?"

After all, the southern kingdom had many contacts with nobles in the northern kingdom, especially in the east. If King Amautu's plan to subdue the lords succeeded, all of these long-cultivated relationships would become useless. Of course, Brym knew that just as well as her.

"Of course not," he thus replied, "but we can't act rashly. If we provoke the scholars too much, Rhodanos will be turned into an example for the other northern estates, and I would prefer to keep the blood off my hands. I only like the smell of copper, not iron. For now, there's still a crucial piece of information missing before we can act."

"Which is?" Inti asked. What exactly had she overlooked? Though when Brym revealed the answer, she felt silly for not thinking about it earlier.

"Please help me organize a meeting with Lord Gratidia," Brym said. "I believe his attitude will profoundly impact our future strategy."

__________________________

From the top floor of his manor, Lord Gratidia watched as dark clouds rolled in and envelop the city. Darkness had descended over the city of Rhodanos. Strangely enough, the darkness had been brought by the scholars of Chutwa, who had promised to bring the light of civilization to the barbaric Medalans. At least that had been the claim of the northern king Amautu at the start of his reign.

If he was honest, Lord Gratidia didn't really know about enlightenment and all that. At heart, he was still the young warrior who had claimed the seat of a lord through his military prowess alone. He didn't really care much for politics, or cultural issues. Yet his carelessness had dragged him into a real mess this time. As the dark clouds enveloped his city, the lord could only watch helplessly. His choices had been made, and now he had to live with them.

-

Lord Gratidia sat at a table in a secret room, and watched King Amautu's attendant silently mouth empty promises. Switching sides from the central kingdom to the northern kingdom seemed like a smart move at this time. After all, King Pachacutec didn't really value House Gratidia, as he was more focused on the older houses and his conflict with House Ichilia.

Meanwhile, King Amautu's man promised him a role of great importance in the northern kingdom. And no matter how much deceit was contained in the man's words, Lord Gratidia was still convinced that he would be important to the northern king, deceit or not.

After all, if House Gratidia switched sides, Chimpaya would become the only estate of the northern kingdom south of the Argu River, a lynchpin in their aggressive strategy against the center. This heightened strategic importance would guarantee his estate's value in the continued conflict between the kingdoms, which would let him reap great rewards, just like the northern king promised.

-

Lord Gratidia found himself atop his walls, staring down at the armies of the central kingdom amassed in front of his city. Meanwhile, the northern king's servants were the ones directing the warriors of House Gratidia into battle. All of the lord's calculations were going up in smoke right in front of his eyes. During the initial negotiations, his 'strategic advantages' had only been his conjecture, and now they had become a fatal miscalculation. Reality had looked quite differently.

What he hadn't considered during the negotiations was that his betrayal would also make him a deadly enemy of the central kingdom. Since a northern city on the south bank of the Argu prevented the smooth transport of the central kingdom's goods along the river, the hero king Pachacutec was forced to regain the Chimpaya estate at almost any cost. This conflict had quickly led to a drawn-out war between the kingdoms, with Rhodanos at its center. With his walls destroyed, his fields razed and many of his warriors dead, Lord Gratidia felt none of the promised benefits. All he could see before him were death and destruction, and a permanent weakening of his house, and his position in the northern kingdom.

-

Again, Lord Gratidia found himself at a table with the northern king's representative, yet the lord's ambition had turned to desperation by now. This time, Amautu's negotiator wasn't one of his warrior aides. Instead, an arrogant scholar sat before Gratidia and broke all previous promises, as he forced his house into horrible concessions in return for almost nothing.

While the north had ultimately won the war by striking a deal with the center, it had also damaged the lands of his estate severely.

At the same time, the war had proven that House Gratidia couldn't stand up against the central forces by itself. As a result, they had become completely dependent on King Amautu's protection if they wanted to survive. Ultimately, none of the northern king's promises had been upheld. In an unimaginably weak position, all he could do was watch as the northern king's scholars took more and more of his privileges as their own.

-

Baffled, Lord Gratidia stared at a letter, and wondered what could have been.

All throughout, his neighbor of House Instea had been suffering the same fate as him, yet now their lord had found a way out of his dilemma. While everyone in Medala was still focused on the civil war in the south, House Instea had quietly undermined the influence of the northern court throughout its capital of Odeana. Now, Lord Gratidia had been informed that Lord Instea had traveled to Arguna, to once again switch sides to the central kingdom. Surely he would receive great benefits in return, on top of removing the all-pervasive influence of the scholars from his lands.

As someone who valued his word, and was proud of the honor which came along with being the patriarch of one of Medala's noble houses, the lord of Rhodanos never even considered such an act of betrayal. Only when he saw the option presented to him black on white did he realize that there had been a path out the northern king's trap all this time. Yet once again, House Gratidia had acted too late to save itself.

Lord Gratidia put down the letter, and rued his choices once more. After the Instea defection, King Amautu would greatly increased his control over the northern estates, of that he was sure.

-

With an increasing numbness, Lord Gratidia watched as more and more scholars were sent to his home to 'supervise' his rule. More and more white-robed men appeared around his manor, and began to take it apart, plank by plank and stone by stone.

As he watched the dismantling of his life's achievement, the lord understood that he had never become a lord because of his fighting prowess in the first place. Rather, with his weak foundation and poor political acumen, he wasn't a threat to anyone, and had thus been allowed to exist as a weak leader to retain the stability around Arguna. All this time, he had just been a pawn to be pushed around, and he was quickly outliving his usefulness.

__________________________

When a loud bang from outside the window awoke Lord Gratidia from another night of tossing and turning, his side of the bed was soaked in sweat. Once again, he had relived the nightmare of the past few years. Again and again, his poor choices haunted his dreams. Now he was awake again, yet the nightmare continued. After all, he still had to live with the consequences of his actions.

However, there were more immediate problems to handle first. Although he was still confused after waking up, his long experience still let him check for threats immediately. A look out the window — the source of the noise — showed only darkness, and the unfamiliar room was small and empty. Without a second thought, the lord grabbed the axe next to his bedside and jumped out of bed. Only then did he calm down and recalled where he was.

Hermit's Notes: Trying to do something a bit different in the second half of the chapter. I hope it works, and I hope patreon won't screw up the formatting.

Edit: Formatting looks fine on my end, the empty lines are on purpose... please tell me if it looked weird, hard to follow or distracting.

Chapter 452 - Back to Work

Traveling through Rhodanos had been an unwelcome return to normalcy for Inti. Ever since the start of her vacation, she had enjoyed long periods of relaxation, accentuated by short bouts of excitement or challenge. Yet as she walked through the half-empty streets of this city, she felt like she was back in the side-alleys of Arguna.

The roads felt dim and dangerous, as if evil minds were spying on her from every direction. She wasn't being paranoid either. After all, Inti had been taught in anti-tracking methods since a young age, and knew how to spot a hidden tail. In fact, she managed to find several pairs of eyes observing her in secret on her way through the city, from bums on the side of the road to guards walking by.

When she had first come here, Rhodanos had seemed as bright and pleasurable as every other place they had visited. Now, after a single unhappy encounter with some uncouth scholars, she was on edge again. By now, the city began to look like a giant snake pit.

Worse things were yet to come, as she had trouble contacting the local ghost forces. Since Rhodanos wasn't a very important city — not even in the top ten on their list of important places to keep track of — they had never stationed a lot of men here. Still, the closeness to Arguna meant that they were well-connected, and easy to reach, even during her days in the capital.

Now however, they couldn't be contacted from the Wonders of the World shop, and their old hideout lay abandoned as well. As a final resort, Inti had to use their emergency backup to contact her people indirectly via a coded message drop. Only then, after several hours of tense waiting in a dingy inn, did someone contact her in response to her message.

Once she received information on the city from the ghosts, she realized the severity of the matter, and returned back to the shop as quickly as she could. Yet by the time she arrived there, the setting sun had already colored the streets in red, which made them feel even less safe than before.

Even so, Brym and his men stood outside the shop like idiots, with a giant, wooden desk in tow. They weren't even moving, neither the desk nor the idiots themselves. Instead, they just stood there and argued with the fake scholars again.

"As I have said, it is a simple table." An exasperated Brym slapped the desk in front of him. "Is it now illegal to sell furniture in this city?"

Meanwhile, the leader of the scholars stood across the furniture in question to block the way, while his goons were bent over all around the desk, to search for who-knew-what.

"Sale of luxury goods shall be prohibited," the leader of the scholars replied in an impassive tone. "First, the scholars shall assess whether or not the table is classified as such. Only then may you proceed."

For a moment, Brym stared at the 'scholars' who were knocking and sniffing around his desk, before he focused back on their leader.

"If you break it, you'll have to pay for it," he finally said. In response the leader exchanged a glance with one of his goons, who shook his head in reply. Whatever they were looking for, they clearly weren't finding it.

"And what fun are we having here? Can we join in?" Inti shouted from a distance as she moved closer with confident steps. Behind her still marched the four guards Brym had left her. As a result, the scholars were now at a numerical disadvantage again.

Clearly, their leader had noticed the same. He snorted and said: "This peddler is free to go," to which his goons simply ignored him as they continued with their work.

"This scholar orders you to cease, you rabble!" he had to shout, and kick one of his bent-over goons before they understood and scurried to the side.

"Hey, I want your approval in writing! 'Scholar approved', or something. Otherwise, what happens if we're stopped again?" Brym shouted after them, but Inti held him back by his shoulder.

"Let it go. I don't think they are literate," she said.

"Alright, we're busy anyways." Brym sighed, before he turned towards the two guards who had stayed behind in the shop. "Come on, guys, it's getting late, and I want to get back before it's completely dark."

"Wait, where are we going?" a confused Inti asked, and looked around for answers. Only now did she notice that the young commoner from earlier in the day also stood among the crowd.

"Where to?" Brym asked the young man, who promptly replied: "After me, master," before he walked down the road.

"We're going to deliver the table, of course," Brym finally answered Inti's earlier question. "I gave my word that we'd deliver the table by today, and I'll be damned if I break my word because of some thugs. If there's something you have to explain, please do so on the way."

Thus, Inti followed Brym as he walked behind the guards who were carrying the table. Meanwhile, the two shopkeepers stayed behind to make sure the fake scholars didn't ransack the place.

"Have you been waiting for me all this time?" Inti asked.

"No need to worry, lady."

Brym tried to brush off her concerns, but it only confirmed her suspicions.

"No, that's why you're delivering this thing so late. You were waiting for me to come back all day, right?"

For a second, Brym was silent, before he replied.

"So, did you learn anything useful today? I sure hope all that waiting was worth it," his words were light, but they only made Inti feel more guilty. Although she wanted to inform him about her findings immediately to ease her mind, she knew it would be irresponsible to do so out in the open.

"Not here," she thus had to whisper. "There's eyes and ears everywhere in the city."

"How exciting." Brym laughed as if he didn't care. "Then we shall talk once we are in a safe place."

For a while, the two walked behind the procession in awkward silence. Finally, in order to break the depressing mood, Inti asked something she had been curious about ever since she had first seen the infamous desk which stood at the center of this conflict.

"You know, I thought this table would be different."

"Different?" Brym asked, though his smiling eyes told her that he knew exactly what she was talking about.

"Well, from their clothing, these people don't seem poor," she began, while looking at the young man in the expensive clothing at the front of their little procession. This time, he also held an expensive looking oil lamp to lead the way. "They could afford any table they wanted, surely. Considering all that, this one looks a bit simple, doesn't it? And it's weirder yet that they ordered it in a luxury shop. No inlays, no ornaments... I mean, it is solidly built, but it's still just simple wood."

"My dear lady, this isn't simple wood." While two of the guards put down the table to rest their arms and exchange their duties with two others, Brym walked up to the table and knocked on the top. "This is rosewood. Rosewood only grows on the Verdant Isles, and only deep inside the jungles further inland. It is a prohibitively expensive material. In fact, this table is so expensive that most people would never be able to afford it in their lifetimes."

"Then why does it look so simple? Wouldn't the commoners prefer to show off their wealth? I thought that was normal among the rich, noble or not," Inti asked, and stroked the table. When it came to the cost, she had to take Brym's word for it, since she really couldn't tell what was so special about this wood. It just felt like the old tables at the Stone's Throw chess shop, smooth and hard.

"This one's different. The whole point of the table is to look simple," Brym thus had to explain. By this point, the guards had exchanged their positions and two fresh pairs of arms continued to carry the desk forward. "It's part of a cultural movement, which has its origins in Saniya. Back when the southern lords rebelled and took control of Saniya for a few months, the commoners organized their own resistance, independent of the stuff we were doing in Rapra Castle. To signal who was part of their group, they would dress in simple clothing, and decorate their houses with simple furniture. I think it was to distinguish themselves from the rotten and decadent nobles who were living lives drowned in luxury, and were making the lives of commoners hell at the same time. Lady Inti, you have been stationed in Arguna all this time. Haven't you seen the commoners wear simpler clothing and buy simpler furniture these days?"

All of a sudden, Inti felt enlightened. Some of the things she had seen in the capital suddenly made a lot more sense.

"I have, but I thought it was just a case of the commoners getting more careful, as the city grew more chaotic," she explained. "It wouldn't be the first time a commoner was struck down by a warrior for showing off too much wealth. You say they're doing it in an act of rebellion?"

The whole concept intrigued Inti, and Brym looked like he was incredibly proud of it as well.

"At the very least, it looks like the southern habits have spread to the commoners in the north already. Since the start of our travels, our shops have been selling more and more of these expensive yet understated pieces of furniture. It's a good sign. It means that our ideas are arousing interest in the north. We've worked hard enough to make it happen. With our shops at the center, we have been radiating southern thoughts and ideas into the north for years now."

"And the northern lords would simply allow that? What about the priests, or the scholars?" Inti asked in shock. Manipulating the enemy's population like this was too bold, right? What if they caused another war? However, Brym simply brushed off her concerns with a shrug.

"I'm not sure about the last two, but the lords probably think that simple furniture isn't a threat to them."

"And neither would the commoners be, I presume," Inti thought, reminded of most northern nobles' general disdain for the lower classes.

"You presume quite right." Brym laughed again. "Though beyond the rosewood and the cultural significance, there's another reason why this table is special. As I've recently learned, this table is more than meets the eye. That's also another reason these people bought it in our shop, rather than somewhere else."

This time, Inti had to smile as well at Brym's showmanship.

"I'm intrigued." she said to play along. "Please tell me, great master Brym: What secret could this simple desk be hiding?"

In response, Brym's grin grew wider, as if he had played a successful prank.

"Can't tell you here. Too many eyes and ears," he said. "We should only talk once we are in a safe place."

"How exciting," Inti simply mirrored his response and continued to follow along, now in a much better mood somehow.

Chapter 451 - Walled Desert

Depression, loneliness. A dying star in the night sky, surrounded by darkness. A walled desert, surrounded by fertile land. These were Brym's first thoughts after a look at his empty shop. All along the walls and atop the shelves, items worth thousands of Sila were lined up, all of them desirable to the people of the city just outside the door. Yet not one of them was here to be enticed by these wares, not one would waste their hard-earned silver on his luxury goods. It was enough to make a grown man weep.

"Vice-president, you are finally here!" one of only two men in the shop — both of them shopkeepers — shouted. From behind his counter, the arcavian native charged towards Brym and hugged the shop's owner with tears in his eyes. "Vice-president, I don't know what to do. Everyone's gone. All those coins out there, and none of them are jumping into our coffers."

Brym had almost laughed at the man's tearful dramatization, but the last sentence made him feel somber as well. How dare these coins stay out of their possession?

"You're Alyn, right?" he confirmed, and thought: Yet another Alyn.

He knew the names of all his employees. Even though he hadn't been here in years, he still remembered them well. Luckily, the two in here were easy to keep apart, since the teary-eyed shopkeeper was an Arcavian, while the quiet one behind the counter was a Medalan.

With a timid nod, Alyn confirmed his identity, before Brym continued.

"There's no need to worry, Alyn. There is a solution to every problem. Please calm down first."

Brym did his best to project confidence in his voice while he brushed off the clingy subordinate at the same time. Then, he turned towards the second shopkeeper, who was still standing behind the counter and watching his colleague's farce with a disapproving frown.

"Titu, do we have any tea?" Brym asked the man who had been aggressively named after the late emperor.

"Of course, master," Titu replied with a fawning smile. "In case special guests arrive, we always keep some Golden Chutwa Tea stocked. I will make set up a pot right away. Please simply relax and enjoy."

"Make one for your friend as well, Titu. Drinking tea calms the nerves. From the look of things, he will need it more than me," Brym added with a smile.

"Very well," Titu confirmed with a more polite bow than necessary, before he disappeared in the storage area in the back of the shop.

Although he himself was nervous about the strange intruders outside the door, Brym knew that he had to remain calm. Strangely, when faced with one subordinate who was about to lose his mind — and a second who only seemed to care about his boss' impression of him, rather than the future of the shop — Brym truly calmed down, rather than worry more. After all, his calm was needed here, and he was confident that he could overcome this hurdle, the same way he had overcome countless hurdles before.

While he was waiting for the tea, Brym shepherded his distraught subordinate to a sitting area intended for high-value customers towards the back of the room. Once Brym had finally come to a rest, his fellow traveler finally spoke up again, possibly after waiting for this very moment of rest.

"Seems like you have things under control here," Inti said. All the while, she strolled through the shop and touched this and that as if she didn't care about the mess in his shop at all.

"Not quite, but I'm getting there,"

Brym returned with a wry smile. He didn't even know what was happening yet. How could he truly have things under control?

"You still want me to check with the ghosts?" she asked, as if his polite understatement had been a serious claim of control. She couldn't really think that her help wasn't needed here, right? Or was she just teasing him?

"Please, if you could," he openly admitted. There was no shame in asking for help, especially from someone he had been feeding for the past three months. It was time for this girl to carry some of the burden as well.

"There is just one issue: It appears this place is under surveillance, so I doubt our contacts here are still active. I will have to check the secondary contact point in the city," Inti explained.

That means traveling outside, Brym added in his head. With the outside of the shop opaque like a thick fog, that seemed like a dangerous move.

"Can you handle it by yourself?" he thus asked with a frown.

"Of course," the girl's carefree smile hardly filled Brym with confidence. Although Inti was an experienced warrior and spy, she was also too arrogant for her own good.

"Please take four of the guards with you, just in case," he said out of concern, and pointed to the six guards they had brought along. By now, they were standing by the door just inside the shop, where they acted as a silent deterrent against the scholars outside.

"I said I can handle it," Inti repeated, now in an annoyed, almost offended tone. However, Brym had learned how to handle the lady's moods over the past few months.

"Of course you do, Lady Inti. Still, it would make me feel calmer if I knew that you had additional protection with you," he rephrased his previous concerns. Since his offer had now become a request, Inti had no more reason to decline.

"Fine then," she finally relented.

"Thank you for easing my nerves," Brym responded with a carefree smile of his own. By the time Inti left, the tea arrived as well. Some empty small talk about the quality of the leaves and the hardness of the water later, Alyn the shopkeeper had finally calmed down. Thus, Brym was ready to start collecting information.

"So you're telling me these scholars appeared out of nowhere, and just closed down the shop of their own accord," Brym summarized his subordinate's explanation. "Did they talk to you, or explain anything before they started blocking the entrance?"

"Not a word, vice-president," Alyn replied first. In the process, his head shook from side to side like a rattle toy. "They just showed up with their clubs in front of the shop and drove away anyone who wanted to enter. We took some coin and tried to persuade them away, but they didn't seem interested. At first, they weren't even interested in telling us why our shop was closed down."

"We attempted to grease the gears, if you will. Usually, a bit of coin goes a long way to removing a problem, as you have graciously taught us, master," Titu added, and took a calculated sip of his tea. "Those scholars stared at all the silver greedily, but their leader declined us before the others could accept."

"We all but had to shove the money into his hands, acting like it was a little regard from his dear students," Alyn continued, with a face as if he couldn't stand the bitter tea, though he was probably just thinking about the lost money again.

"Only then did the scholar accept, and graciously informed us of our 'crimes'. In essence, he repeated the same phrases he used in front of the shop earlier, as if he had memorized them. Since then, nothing has changed. Even though they have accepted our money, they haven't moved away one step."

"Usually, the crooks at least have the integrity to act on a bribe," Alyn added in the end.

"They're here all day?" Brym probed further.

He couldn't quite believe that these people would waste their time standing in front of a shop all day for no reward. If they only appeared around noon, for example, he could always just change his business hours and continue operating around the restriction. However, Titu's next reply foiled Brym's plan before it could fully form.

"All day," the shopkeeper unfortunately confirmed. "They come in waves, from morning till night. So long as someone is left in the store, a group of them will always be present outside. These days, they've even come inside around noon and shamelessly asked for 'payment', to buy some food."

"Payment?" an intrigued Brym leaned forward. Usually, the fastest way to the truth was to follow the money. Who was paying these fake scholars, and why? Yet once again, the answer left him disappointed.

"Please do not get excited, vice-president. We're the ones paying, and we get nothing in return," a distraught Alyn said. "They argue that our presence prevents them from performing their higher duties elsewhere. So, since the lives of scholars are so valuable, they should be compensated for their lost time."

"Unbelievable." Brym shook his head. The shamelessness on display almost made him laugh. "Aren't those robber methods?"

"If they aren't real robbers poorly disguised as scholars, then they may as well be," Titu commented. "There is no difference."

For a few seconds, silence filled the room, as Brym stared at the slowly rising smoke from his expensive tea. Apparently, they had to deal with a thoroughly unreasonable desperadoes this time, not exactly his forte. He much rather dealt with smart people with something to lose. After all, smart people were predictable, and more likely to cut their losses, or strike deals. Idiots like the ones outside couldn't be reasoned with, and that worried Brym.

"Not that I have high hopes, but what is the local lord saying about this harassment?" he tried again. Predictably, his two workers shook their heads.

"We've tried informing House Gratidia," Alyn explained. "However, we haven't even seen the lord so far. We paid a lot of silver to the patrol warriors of the house, on top of our usual payments. Only then did we find a few guards who were unhappy with the scholars running rampant in the city. They told us more."

"In fact, many local nobles are unhappy with the scholars," Titu added. "though apparently, these are direct orders from Challwala. In other words, these people outside have come here on direct order from the King of the North. Unfortunately, Gratidia is a weak house, which needs protection from the norther court. After their defection, the the central kingdom would be out for revenge after all. So the local lord is unlikely to act against the scholars. Apparently, he is currently pretending to be away on a trip to the countryside. Thus, he has an excused for his inaction towards his people, and he will not need to confront the norther king who is currently supplanting Lord Gratidia's authority in his own estate."

Finally, Brym had a better image of the politics within Rhodanos, though it didn't make him any happier.

"What a mess." he simply concluded, and rubbed his aching temples. For now, he didn't have the energy to think up a solution, so he opted for small talk instead. "Since you can't solve it yourselves, why not message the main branch?"

"These people appeared a mere trium ago, master," Titu explained. "However, we have written a report and sent it back a while back. By now, it may have already arrived at the main branch."

"We're desperate for help, vice-president." Alyn added, and already looked like he was about to cry again, tea or not.

"Indeed. While a bit dramatic, we truly are out of options, and humbly ask for Master Brym's guidance." Compared to his colleague, Alyn was more composed, and lowered his head to the minister like a servant.

If he had to pick, Brym preferred the whiny subordinate who seemed to care more about money than about Brym to the careerist. Though this wasn't the time to play favorites. Both were asking for the same thing after all. Unfortunately, it wasn't a thing he could provide, at least not yet. Thus, he could only sigh and deny their requests.

"This might shock you, my friends, but I am no miracle worker. Maybe if big brother was here, he would have long thought up a brilliant strategy to reverse our fortunes. However, I am not my big brother, and not capable of such creative solutions. All I can do is work earnestly, and see if we have overlooked an avenue which will lead us out of this mess."

When their pleas were rejected, both shopkeepers had the same reaction, for the first time since Brym had appeared here. Both of them looked devastated, as if they were watching a treasure chest sink into the ocean. In response, their boss offered a reassuring smile, to make sure morale wouldn't collapse completely. After all, while he didn't have Corco's brilliant strategies, he had his own way of doing things.

"No need to look so down," he said. "I already have a few leads we can follow, all of which look promising. I can guarantee you: If only one of them proves fruitful, we will find a way out of your dilemma. First, we'll have to see what our ghostly friends have to say. Maybe after that, we will already have some light to pierce through this darkness."

Chapter 450 - A Lesson From the Scholars

After the incident in Huaylas, the relevant parties soon went their separate ways. In the end, Inti managed to convince Avitus and his wife Mellana to leave their new home, though they only agreed out of concern for their unborn child, and only after Inti had insisted that the quality of doctors in the south was higher. As Brym had suggested, they would travel south to Saniya, together with Naoka, who would make sure they wouldn't make any more trouble.

Meanwhile, Inti herself followed along with Brym's journey. First, they traveled to the estates surrounding Huaylas, most of which used to be followers of House Ichilia in the past. With the weakening of the house, some had stayed devoted to their old masters, while others had looked for new backers, or attempted to go independent instead.

As diverse as the places they visited were the methods Brym had for dealing with them. Every time they arrived somewhere, he would first spend several days to collect information on the place and develop a sales strategy.

Sometimes, he would focus on the lords and negotiate the bond sales with them directly. Sometimes he would instead target the warriors, or even the local commoners, all depending on who was richest and most willing to spend. In some cases, he would even use the pressure produced from targeting the lower classes to force a favorable deal with the lords. While considering the political needs of the southern kingdom, he would always find creative ways to maximize profits.

Although it was impressive work, all of it had little to do with Inti. Instead, she was simply glad to tag along, and enjoy her first time off in half a decade.

Of course, she wasn't completely useless. Out of habit, she couldn't let go of work completely, especially when she saw her traveling companion try so hard. To scratch the itch, she sometimes helped during talks, especially during some of Brym's larger schemes, which required operations in two places at once. As the southern kingdom's long-term representative in the Triumvirate Meetings, Inti had plenty of experience with negotiations herself, on top of her considerable reputation. Even so, she felt like a simple negotiator — casually plucked from any of Brym's stores — could have done the work just as well.

However, Inti didn't care too much about her superfluous status, and Brym himself never complained about her presence either. In between negotiations, they would visit all the wonders of the central kingdom, traveling from place to place and enjoying themselves. Sometimes, if they really liked a place, they would take root in a city for a week or two before moving on. Then as the weather began to get colder, they started moving north.

By the time Inti realized, it was already late fall, and they had been traveling for almost three months. Finally, they had visited all the estates of the central kingdom, and had thus completed the first half of their journey. Now they were ready to enter the northern kingdom, with all the problems it would bring.

_________________________

25. This is our 25th stop, Brym's weary mind counted.

At first, these travels, half vacation and half challenging sales pitch, had been great fun. Yet after months of the same thing, Brym was basically sick of it all. At this rate, he would even miss out on next spring's yearly fiscal report in Saniya. At least in this regard, he didn't have to worry too much. He had left his financial office in capable hands, so he didn't have to rush back immediately.

Even better, they had more than half their journey completed by now. Among all the estates north of the Narrows, Brym's connections in eastern Medala had always been the best, ever since their fleet had landed in Porcero all those years ago. Over there, he could simply sell these bonds openly, without any tricks or political maneuvering. Rather, many of the local lords were guaranteed to actively support him, happy that the money from their estates would go to Corco, rather than to his brother Amautu. After all, the eastern lords, nominally controlled by the northern kingdom of Amautu, were sympathetic to Corco almost to the man. Surely, they'd be very willing to support the southern kingdom, in return for promises of protection against Amautu's increasingly intrusive policies.

Even better than the thought at the imminent ease of his sales were his results so far.

16.44 million Sila. That should last us a while, at least. Surely, the east will be just as fruitful.

However, before he could reap the fertile fields of eastern Medala, he first had to overcome what would most likely be the hardest part of their journey: The northern kingdom proper. Unlike eastern Medala, which was separated from the three kingdoms by the Sallqata Mountain range and thus followed its own rules, northern Medala was under Amautu's full control. And while the conservative central kingdom was still largely operating under the same rules Medala had followed for centuries, much had changed up north.

Now the scholars were in charge here, and more and more power was being amassed in their hands. Brym didn't think they were eager to share the peoples' wealth with him, not even with political tricks. Even worse, their first stop in the northern kingdom turned out to be the city of Rhodanos in the Chimpaya estate, owned by Lord Gratidia.

They were visiting this place first mostly out of logistical considerations, since it was the southernmost territory of the northern kingdom and the only northern estate to be situated south of the Argu. However, the estate also happened to border Arguna. Not only would they have to contend with the local lord and the scholars under Amautu's influence, there was even a chance that forces from Arguna could get involved. Considering the chaos both him and his traveling companion had caused there during his last visit, this didn't bode well for them.

Speaking of his companion, she seemed to be taking the looming threat in stride. Just like she had over the past three months, she carelessly swayed her arms in a decidedly unladylike manner as she strolled through the city. All the while, she stared at this building or that unusual robe — usually on a person, for added awkwardness — without a care in the world. Over the past few months, Inti had cast off the gloom from her family reunion — which was nice — but her carefree attitude really brushed against Brym's increasingly tensed mind.

"Lady Inti, are you not worried that the elders and Pacha priests of Arguna will send someone to deal with us troublemakers?" he asked the non-lady. "We are now in enemy territory, after all."

"No worries at all, my portly companion." Inti returned the crooked grin of a desperado and continued to stride through the streets unconcerned. "I've held contact with the local ghosts. If those dusty bones try to deal with us, I will be the first to hear about it. Although, since you're that concerned, I can go talk to my contacts right away, if you prefer. I expect we're going to your shop, as usual?"

Just in time, Brym saw the familiar sign on a building up ahead, with a crowd forming in front of it.

"We're already here," he said, and walked up to his shop.

The Wonders of the World line of shops were placed in all kinds of different spots within the estates of the north, depending on the exact circumstances of the estate in question. Some were built in the inner city to service warriors and lords, some in the outer city to service rich commoners. Others would be built into the inner city wall, to service both sides at once. If the wealthy of the estate stayed away from the city for some reason, the shop would be built in the countryside instead. Some particularly wealthy cities even had several shops in different places.

As for Rhodanos, the local House Gratidia was a relatively young noble house. Formerly a line of warriors well known for their prowess in battle, they had only become high nobles after the last civil war some 35 years ago, after the line of their nominal masters had all died out in battle. As a result, they didn't have many assets saved up, since most of the original house's wealth had been confiscated by the forces of Arguna.

On top of that, their land was poor and they didn't have many specialty products. Although the Argu river ran past the city's north, most of the tariffs collected from travelers would be sent up to King Amautu, so there was not much wealth to extract from the local lord, or his warriors.

Yet at the same time, House Gratidia's Chimpaya estate bordered Arguna, so many of the capital's wealthy commoners had settled here. They had come for various reasons, though most simply tried to escape the oppression of the powerful nobles in Medala's most conservative city. Since the nobles here were so poor and the commoners so wealthy, Rhodanos only had a single shop, which had been built in the outer city to serve the commoners.

Thus, they saw the shop not long after they had entered the city. Indeed, not only could Brym already see the Wonders of the World from here, he could hear it as well.

"All we want is enter! What right do you have to stop us!?" an elderly man in gray robes shouted. He stood at the head of a small group of five men, all draped in equally drab gray, but shiny cloth. Brym could always spot wealthy customers from a distance, and these guys certainly qualified. However, they were currently barred from entry to the shop by the group they were opposing.

"By the rights of a teacher shall you be barred! Step back, poor insolents, lest this teacher supply his lesson with a cane!"

The man who shouted back was quite a bit younger than the commoner, and he wore white robes, with a much simpler cut and material. Behind him stood a group of five young men, all wearing the same white robes and all sporting a beard of varying lengths.

Clearly, the ones who had somehow become doormen for Brym's shop were a group of scholars. However, their actions were all but scholarly. Their so-called canes looked more like clubs, and they brandished them aggressively and beat them on the ground to drive the commoners back.

"Looks like there's some real trouble this time," Inti commented, still with a smirk on her face. Even now, her good mood seemed unbroken.

"Hmm," Brym only grunted, unwilling to indulge the lady's moods for now. Instead, he searched around the area, and soon found what he was looking for. Around a corner, he could see two guardsmen of the city, peeking at the spectacle in front of the shop. Yet even though these scholars were clearly breaking the law, the guards were making no attempt to intervene. Apparently, Rhodanos politics were complicated, so he couldn't rely on the local forces for now.

Looks like I'll have to deal with this myself, or things will get ugly.

"What's going on here?" Brym thus shouted, in the most authoritative voice he could muster. At the same time, he stepped up to the two groups.

"These-" one of the younger commoners began to shout in a voice of barely suppressed anger, but before he could add an insult, he paused and corrected himself: "-scholars denied us entry into this shop."

"None shall enter!" the head 'scholar' simply repeated, while hitting his club onto the floor once again.

"'None'?" Brym repeated with a sneer and took a step forward. "Is that so?"

"So it is." Although the scholar looked a bit less confident now, he still insisted.

"And what if I own the place?" Brym added, and took another step. At the same time, his six guards, all of them properly trained professionals, stepped up right behind him, ready to defend their master in case these scholars did anything stupid.

Faced with real opposition beyond old men, the scholars looked a lot less intimidating all of a sudden. For a second, they stared at each other in search of a solution, before their leader gritted his teeth and replied.

"The owner may, but the insolents shall not." he pointed at the commoners once again. The young man from before wanted to shout back again, but Brym raised his hand to calm him down. Intensifying the conflict wouldn't help here, at least not until he had more information.

"And why's that?" Brym asked instead in a confident tone and pointed out: "How am I supposed to do business if my customers can't go in?"

Again, the scholars were silent for a while. Maybe they were overwhelmed by an argument they couldn't win through intimidation. Finally, their leader spoke up once more.

"In accordance with new laws promulgated by the scholarly court in Challwala, the sale of products of indulgence to commoners shall be prohibited from this moment everforth."

"Yea, tha's right! Everforth!" one of the other scholars slurred, and beat his teaching cane against the wall of Brym's shop, for added emphasis. The leader's eye twitched in response, but he did his best to ignore his companion's support and kept talking.

"Through the measure, the scholarly court hopes to stop societal rot in an effort to harmonize society and combat rural superstitions," the leader explained his nonsense.

"So you're telling me it's illegal for them to enter my store and buy any luxury goods," Brym tried to confirm the baffling law. Was King Amautu that eager to start a revolt in his lands?

"We come here only to pick up a simple table we ordered several moons ago," the old man in the commoner group argued. "The table itself is of ordinary wooden build, neither ornate nor luxurious in nature."

After getting ammunition, Brym turned back towards the leader of the scholars.

"In that case, there's no reason to hold them here, is there?" he asked with a winning smile. Again, the leader stared at Brym's guards, but this time, he remained steadfast.

"Even so, the insolents will surely fall into temptation once confronted with the offerings within. They shall not travel past this threshold, lest they wish to become enemies of the scholarly court."

This time, the wise scholar used his club to point at the doorstep to Brym's shop. At this point, even the good-natured minister was running out of patience. If he ordered his guards, he was sure to drive away these false scholars very quickly. However, he hadn't gathered any information on the current state of affairs within the city yet. He also hadn't forgotten about the suspiciously inactive guards around the corner. For now, prudence would be the best policy.

"Very well then," Brym finally said and turned towards the commoners again. "In that case, could you give me your names first? I will enter my own shop myself, and make sure your order will be delivered to you right away."

While Brym patiently dealt with his customers, the scholars stared daggers into his back, while the city guards continued to watch from the shadows. He had only entered the northern kingdom for a day, and already he could tell that the next leg of their journey would pose an entirely different challenge.

Hermit's Notes: Hello, still alive. I'll post another... four or so chapters today? Basically, I've finally managed to catch back up with my own release schedule, which is nice. Though I still haven't gotten any more work done on the print release for Book 0. Maybe now that I'm no longer behind, I'll be able to do that, finally.

Sorry about the delays, and about not posting for a while. I always end up unreasonably angry whenever I mass-reply to RR comments, the 10% dumb comments are pure poison in high concentrations. So I had to take a self-imposed break from online interactions for a while, while I was quietly working along. I'll try to avoid mass-replies like that in the future, and the problem should subside.

Oh, also: I very slightly changed Inti's backstory in Chapter 440, because I'm pretty sure I got my notes mixed up. It's a minor correction, with practically no influence on the plot.

Again, more chapters to follow immediately. Enjoy.

Chapter 449 - Bitter Reunion

In a formerly abandoned courtyard in Huaylas, Inti and Brym sat together for dinner, after a seemingly endless day. This wasn't her sister Mellana's yard, of course. They couldn't stay after what had happened earlier. This was a yard the finance minister had specifically requested from Lord Ichilia. He had even paid for it in full from his private property. After all, if they stayed in the Gold Manor, they would only be spied on, and there was much to talk about.

However, Inti had been silent all this time. She had been so unresponsive that Brym even had to drag her here by himself after his newest negotiations with Loreius Ichilia and Avitus had been completed. All day, Brym had handled everything by himself, always taking care of her.

She couldn't keep moping like this, she knew it. Thus, she took a deep breath and said what she should have said hours ago.

"I have to thank you, Lord Brym." Inti bowed to the chubby foreigner who sat on the same table and was shoving grilled venison into his mouth. "If you hadn't spoken up when you did, maybe I would have never seen my sister again."

However, when confronted with a lady's sincerity, Brym simply smiled patiently, like he had done all day.

"No need to thank me, Lady Inti. I felt a personal obligation to get involved, so you owe me nothing." His smile became a bit warmer. Somehow, Inti could tell that his words had come from the heart. Soon however, Brym's face became more serious.

"Rather than that, the important question is what will happen from now on. Has your sister voiced any desires or plans about her future?" he asked. Now that she was once more responsive, Brym seemed eager to ask for her advice.

"Desires, huh?"

As her voice trailed off, she stared past Brym's face and out of the window into the darkening sky. Only a few dozen meters away, her sister was surely enjoying married bliss in her new home. Brym had made sure to buy a house close to Mellana's. As her expressions involuntarily soured, Inti recalled her reunion with her sister earlier in the day.

_________________

"Please do not worry, Lady Inti. I will handle all matters outside that door. Reconnect with your sister, and don't bother with anything else. I'm sure you have much to talk about."

In front of Inti, Brym reassured her, before he closed the door to the small living room of her sister Mellana's current home. Outside, not only Brym was waiting, but also the guardsman called Avitus — Mellana's presumed husband — as well as the vicious Loreius Ichilia, no doubt steaming with anger at the most recent development.

However, just as Brym had said, these weren't issues for her to consider. Right now, there were only two people left in the room. All she had to do was focus on her sister. Thus, she turned, and saw her sister sit at a table, one the new family might be using for dinner on ordinary days.

I know she is pregnant, but just sitting down by herself and ignoring her guest, her own sister no less, is still rude.

After her shock had lifted, the first thing Inti had felt had been relief at her sister's safety. However, before she could ever express it, this relief was soon replaced with irritation at her sister's lack of consideration. A collection of small and large things came back up in Inti's memories, all of which soured the family reunion. Without a word, she stomped up to the table, pulled out a chair opposite Mellana — which produced a harsh scraping sound on the wooden floor boards — and plonked herself down.

For several seconds, she offered her sister a cold stare, nothing more. Meanwhile, Mellana had grown visibly uncomfortable. She tried to retain her usual, elegant smile, but her facade soon cracked around her eyes and the corners of her mouth.

"Inti. I'm so glad we could meet again, with both of us well," Mellana tried to break the silence, but Inti remained cold and wordless.

"How have you been over the past year? Well, I hope," the older sister tried again. However, once more, Inti wouldn't engage with her small talk.

"So you were pregnant," the younger sister replied instead.

"Yes. Me and Avi found out early this year. We tried for a while, so we are glad we finally succeeded. The child is due in autumn."

At the mention of her husband and her coming child, Mellana stroked her belly as her expression softened and drifted out of the open window. It was a picture of homely bliss, saccharin enough for the old-fashioned pastoral poets of Arguna to write entire hymns. Yet once again, Inti remained stoic.

"You are pregnant," she simply reiterated. "Pregnant with some Ichilia guardsman's child."

"He is not 'some guardsman', sister. He saved my life," Mellana insisted in her usual tone, calm and elegant. Even so, she very slightly raised her voice for the first time since their meeting.

"No need to hand over your body as thanks," Inti bit back, a sarcastic sneer on her lips.

Finally, Mellana's facade cracked. A deep frown developed on her face, though her voice was still calm and even, albeit with an added touch of frost.

"Being with Avi, having a child, that was my choice, and I did not do it out of mere gratitude, or duty. I am happy here, and I will not have you or mother or anyone else choose who is or is not good enough to be my husband. Do you have any idea how long ago I met him, or how? Any idea if my feelings for him are true? You know nothing about my real feelings, and you never asked me for them. We meet again after a year, and all you do is accuse me. What do you know about Avi? Or the risks he took for me?"

For a moment, Inti was stunned at her sister's powerful attack. Before she could gather herself, her sister had already continued her barrage.

"You did not know how Avi abandoned his family, only for me! And how could you, when you know nothing? How, do you think, are we paying for our daily needs here? The food on this table? Avi carries this burden alone. No one can notice that he has a fugitive hidden at home. To do it, Avi pretended to lose his family's money on gambling. He broke off contact with his own ever since, all so he could secretly keep the 'gambling money' and take care of me, and our future child. Not once did I ask him to do anything like that for me. Yet not once did I hear him complain, although he has suffered so much in silence. If such a man cannot meet your high standards, dear sister, then I do not care. Such a man is certainly good enough for me."

Mellana's powerful speech, presented in a calm voice without fluctuations, had quite the impact. However, Inti wasn't fooled. After she had been overwhelmed earlier, she remembered why she had been so upset since entering the room.

This selfish girl in front of her could praise her husband all she wanted, but Inti would never waver, not after everything she had been through over the past year. Still, out of respect for her sister, and to make sure that her future niece or nephew wasn't harmed, Inti stayed silent on Mellana's faults. Her hands balled into fists as she barely managed to hold herself back from shouting back insults and accusations. Yet her idiot sister seemed to mistake such silence for weakness.

"When I saw you enter that courtyard, I was happy, you know?" Mellana continued to prod. "Finally, our family would be reunited again. Yet your reaction has disappointed me. Is all you care about the honor of the family?"

Finally, after another unprovoked complaint, Inti exploded. She jumped from her seat and shouted in her selfish elder sister's face, pregnant or not.

"You were happy with the reunion, were you!? Then where have you been!? It has been a year! A year! While you were sitting here, playing house, we have all fought with our lives on the line!"

Even now, Mellana remained seated. Even now, she didn't raise her voice.

"I never chose to fight, and it was never my fight to begin with."

"Then at least send a letter!" Inti hit the table between them, enraged by her sister's lack of emotion, and by her lack of accountability. "If you were so concerned about your family, at least you could have let us know that you were still alive! You could have left this abandoned ghost town any day you wanted, over the past half a year at least, and gone back home. And yet you just sat here and enjoyed your honeymoon!"

"So this really is about Avi's status. I knew it," Mellana shot back a cynical answer, which only made Inti more angry. Her comeback didn't even make sense, right?

"I don't give a rat's ass who you pick as your man! Just don't choose someone from House Ichilia while your family is fighting a war against them!"

"Avi is different," Mellana insisted. Finally, Inti felt like she had shouted out most of her anger, and calmed down somewhat. Though that didn't mean she believed her sister's nonsense.

"Is that why he's still protecting Loreius Ichilia to this day, because he's such a disloyal rebel to the Ichilia name?" Inti sneered. At last, Mellana lost her cool as well. This time, it was her who hit the table, though she still remained seated.

"You know nothing about him!" she screamed, a calm sea which had turned stormy. "Don't get involved in my family affairs!"

"So that's how it is, is it? You're no longer part of the family, now that you've found a man for yourself." Again, Inti could feel the anger rising up her throat. "You keep talking about family, but you've never considered the feelings of any one of us at all. You never thought what kind of damage your little stunt would cause. We lost three ghost warriors trying to find out what happened to you. Did you know that? Three! Those souls rest on your conscience. None of them had to die, but they did, because you wanted to play wifey to our enemy's private guard, and you didn't want to see any of your family at the wedding banquet!"

Inti's chest heaved after she had unleashed all of her anger. All this time, she had lived with the guilt of killing her sister, of endangering her life with the mission in Huaylas. Now she realized that Mellana had simply taken it all as a joke. While everyone else had been mourning her death, she had been enjoying herself with her new man.

After seconds of uncomfortable silence, only disrupted by Inti's heavy breathing, Mellana finally lowered her proud head.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, and then hesitated, before she continued. "I know it won't change a thing, but I truly am. I didn't want any of this, not until I was in prison. From there, things just happened. I didn't plan it in advance."

Seeing Mellana — the older sister she had been concerned for all this time — so downtrodden finally cooled down Inti's overheated head. She sighed and asked the only question she really cared about.

"Please, just tell me one thing: Why did you never write us? Why did you never come back? At least tell me that much, if I'm still your sister."

When Mellana looked back up, there were tears in her eyes, though her face looked determined, and not one drop was on her face.

"I'm just... tired of it all," she said, after some more hesitation. "All the fighting, and hiding, all year round. I spent four years hidden in this city. Every day I was afraid that I would be exposed. Every day, I had to fear for my life. And for what? Because of our dead father's loyalty to the dead emperor? Why should I have to suffer for them? I gave most of my best years to those dead men. Why can't I just have something for me, for once? With Avi, I can just be happy. Just happy, you know? None of you could understand what it's like, having a child. Not even mother. To her, even childbearing was only ever a duty, just like everything else."

"Watch yourself," Inti interrupted her sister's rant, her face once more warped with angry. She wouldn't see her mother slandered like that, not after everything she had sacrificed for the family.

"Sorry." Mellana took a deep breath, before she continued. "I was just... tired. I thought I could simply disappear. That everyone would think I was dead, and so no one would come looking for me. And then I could just live my own life, in my own way, and find my own happiness. I never wrote you, because I never wanted to be found."

Once the truth was spoken, it could never be unspoken again. Now Inti knew the answer to her question, for better or for worse. To her sister, all of them had only ever been a burden, a nuisance. When the heat left her head, the cold hit like a hammer. Her body was once more as numb as it had been on the way here. With stiff movements, Inti turned around, and opened the door to the outside.

Without looking back, she mumbled: "For what it's worth, I'm glad you're still alive, sister. And congratulations, you get your wish."

Without waiting for a response, Inti left the room.

______________________

With her mind back in the present, Inti looked back at Brym, in a much worse mood after recollecting the fresh memory.

"I'm not sure what that sister of mine desires, really." She sighed, not for the first time since the reunion. "One thing is for certain, she won't do any more work for the kingdom."

"Well, she also can't stay here, that's for sure," Brym casually commented, as if it was an obvious conclusion.

It's not obvious to me.

"Why not? It's what she wants after all," Inti said in a sour voice. Wouldn't her selfish sister be happy if they just left her here and forgot all about her?

"Because if she stays here, her family will sooner or later be used as hostages to blackmail the southern kingdom," Brym replied.

Okay, it was obvious after all.

Only now did Inti properly wake up. Ever since she had seen her sister, she hadn't been able to think about anything else. Finally, she remembered that there were larger issues at play here, beyond her family drama.

"What about the Ichilia bastard?" she asked the most important question straight away. Lord Ichilia was the reason they had come to Huaylas after all, and he was also the man with the most power in the city. His attitude towards her sister would be more important than anyone's, as would be his attitude towards cooperation.

"For now, Lord Ichilia has been pacified," Brym simply stated, though Inti was convinced that the process had been anything but simple. "We have both decided that your sister's business is a good thing for both sides. Rather, a death would have made things a lot more complicated. Since our business is important and neither of us seems happy with our people, we'll both just ignore the whole affair. Lord Ichilia will allow his disloyal guard to leave, though Avitus will have to shed the family name, of course. Still, that seems to be the best outcome for everyone involved. At least no one will have to die this way."

"I understand." Inti thought for a second, and had to agree. "So Mellana will have to leave here."

In response, Brym brushed off his hands on a towel and stood up from the table, apparently finished with the meal.

"In that case, we should convince her as soon as possible. If what you said is true, she might be unwilling to leave on her own. You can inform her of the issue at hand." Brym hesitated for a second, and his eyes softened, before he added: "Or I could talk to her, if you prefer."

However, Inti wasn't so fragile that she needed special treatment. Although she had forgotten to eat in her numbness, she could do that later.

"No, thank you. I will handle it," she said, with a steeled heart. "She can go back to Saniya if she wants. I'll leave her with Naoka, he'll guarantee their safety."

After their earlier talk, Inti really didn't want to spend any more time with her sister. Though the concept seemed to surprise Brym.

"Naoka?" he asked, one brow raised. "But what about you? Won't you go back to Saniya? Or will you return to Arguna instead?"

Faced with a future beyond tonight, Inti suddenly saw herself stumped. She certainly didn't want to go back to Arguna, not for a while. She had left for a reason, and had little intention of returning until the city calmed down or a major event required her input. In her original plan, she would have traveled to Saniya from here, but she would be damned if she spent her first time off in years in the same place as her selfish sister.

After thinking for a while, Inti finally realized that she had no idea what to do from now on. When she finally looked back up, she noticed that Brym had been patiently waiting on an answer for a while now.

"I'm not sure yet. What about you?" she tried to deflect from her embarrassment.

"Well, what can I do?" Brym laughed, even though nothing about their talk had been funny. Maybe he just thought it was necessary to lighten the mood. "There's still plenty of cities to visit in the north, and plenty of bonds to sell. I will be busy for quite a while longer."

"In that case, I will go with you," Inti made a snap decision.

"Huh?" was the eloquent merchant's succinct response.

Although the new plan had come out of nowhere, it made more sense the more she thought about it. She could travel around the country and see the sights she had only ever heard of, since she had spent all her life in the capital. Even better, she would be traveling with Brym, who was always pleasant company.

"Well, I owe you a great debt. First Naoka, and now this. Who knows if we would have ever found Mellana if you hadn't spoke up." She hastily made up an excuse to tag along, but Brym brushed off her sincerity.

"Someone had to," he just said and waved his hand around, as if there were countless others around who would have done the same.

"No, most certainly not," Inti insisted. After all, her travel plans depended on it. "I am greatly in your debt, Lord Brym. Please allow me to follow along and repay you in any way I can."

"Well, it's not the worst idea. We've started working with the ghosts in our shops, and I could use a liaison," Brym finally said, while stroking the stubble on his chin. "And considering the things you've gone through today alone, I think you deserve a vacation anyways."

Finally, Inti's smile returned, as she jumped out of her seat as well, ready to convince her sister to leave her new home.

Now that she had organized a ride for herself, she had plenty of time to mull over today's events, as well as her own future. There was much soul-searching to be done. Luckily, there were many wealthy lords in the north, and with Brym's love for coin, they would be visiting all of them.

Hermit's Notes: Two new chapters today, still one behind. These weren't easy to write, and sort of expanded as I went. I wanted to capture the feeling of a family dispute, with both sides being a bit in the wrong, and both talking past each other half the time. Took a while, but I think the final result isn't bad.

Chapter 448 - Twists and Turns

"Lord Ichilia, what happened to Mellana di Pluritac?"

What happened to who? I want to know what happened more than anyone!

Loreius was stunned. So far, the talks had been going perfectly. Almost all of his predictions had been met. Although he had been a bit surprised by the bonds issue, and he hadn't managed to gain an advantage during negotiations, he was still broadly satisfied with the outcome.

By committing such large sums of money to the southern kingdom through a long-term trade agreement, he would gain access to the vital fertilizer. On top of that, he would also enjoy the protection of the southern kingdom. After all, the merchant king in the south wouldn't just watch his best customer disappear, would he?

Thus protected, Huaylas would be able to slowly recover in the shadows, while the three kings fought over land and lords. The plan had been solid, and both sides had been satisfied with the outcome. All that remained was a simple handshake, and then their respective servants would have handled the details of their agreement, while they would simply enjoy a few more banquets.

Yet why were things getting complicated again? Silence didn't help here, so Loreius had to force himself out of his catatonic state, and squeezed out a smile.

"Minister Brymstock, this is not a name this lord is familiar with." He really wasn't lying this time. He had no idea who this 'Mellana' was supposed to be. Though asking surely couldn't hurt, he thought. "Could Minister Brymstock enlighten this lord? Judged by her name, this woman is a servant of House Pluritac. Maybe with a description, this lord's servant could help find her if she has gone missing."

"How dare you act ignorant, you bastard!"

Focused on Brymstock, Loreius didn't even notice at what point the woman to his side had suddenly jumped up from her recliner. Now she was hunched over the table and screaming into his face.

Girl, why are you only talking now!? I thought you were a mute!

"This lady... Inti, was it?" Loreius tried to recall, as he worked hard to keep an impolite frown from his face. "Please refrain from insults. This lord is truly ignorant on this matter."

"So you are telling me that you do not remember that you rounded up and killed all your female servants a year ago?"

"That..." Stunned, Loreius thought back.

Indeed, after he had explained his plan for taking over the Verdant Isles to his father, he had taken care of all the servants who could have listened in on them, just in case. Of course, the story had spread eventually. Too many people had disappeared to keep it a complete secret. Although outsiders wouldn't know what exactly had happened to those maids, they knew their end wouldn't have been good.

Back then, he hadn't cared about the rumors, and had even embraced them. Getting a reputation as a shrewd and ruthless ruler wasn't too bad. But now this same reputation seemed to have become a problem. Worse yet, as he thought back to that banquet with his father, he remembered that one of his maids back then had all but confirmed that she had been a spy all along. Surely, this wasn't the 'Mellana' they were looking for, right?

"That girl..." he mumbled as he delved into his memories, in an attempt to remember her name, or at least her face. Yet he didn't notice that the mere notion of a memory angered the former mute girl.

"'That girl' was my sister!" she screamed, and grabbed Loreius' robes with the rough hands of a warrior.

"And you are?" he asked the unreasonable shrew with all the condescension of a lord. At the same time, he held her hands to make sure she wouldn't do anything even more stupid, like trying to kill the current Lord Ichilia in the Gold Manor out of anger. An assassination attempt in the middle of trade talks wouldn't have been good for any of them, least of all himself.

For now, what he had to do was find out who exactly it was he had killed. Since all the maids back then had been executed, he couldn't change this upset girl's mood. Her sister had died on his order after all.

Still, if the victim's status wasn't too big, Loreius didn't believe that the southern kingdom would side with some servant against him. Rather, they would likely just overlook his past transgressions in the face of the large, mutually beneficial deal he had just struck with the southern kingdom's finance minister. However, Minister Brymstock's next words completely shattered his hopes.

"Lady Inti is the younger sister of Fadelio di Pluritac, King Corcopaca's attendant and current Prime Minister of the southern kingdom," The words were simple, but they shook Loreius to the core. Since the shock was written on his face as well, the girl's — the prime minister's other sister's — expression became more and more sinister.

"What did you do with my sister?" the girl growled.

Wait, how am I the villain here!? I was just dealing with spies! Why would you send someone so important to spy on House Ichilia in the first place!? Just send some disposable pawns like the rest of us! This isn't my fault!

Yet he knew logic wouldn't work on these people. The moment Minister Brymstock decided to bring up the matter of Mellana unprovoked, it had become inextricably tied to the negotiations. The murder of such a high-ranking figure would ruin their entire talks, if it couldn't be resolved. Yet if talks fell through, House Huaylas would stand alone once more, without allies and without protection.

Frantically, Loreius scoured his mind for solutions. Should he just lie, pretend he hadn't killed her? No, he had already admitted that he knew her. Even if he claimed that he had only imprisoned the girl, he would still have to produce her from within the Gold Manor's dungeons somehow. But that maid was long dead, how could he possibly do that? Hire a body double? That was impossible due to time concerns, and he didn't even remember what the damned maid looked like!

All he could do was admit his fault and ask for forgiveness, yet one look at the angry warrior girl's face and he knew that chances of reconciliation were slim. Thus, his words would only drive his house into another crisis. How come ever since his father's death, all his past failings had suddenly come together to ruin his life? How much more punishment did he have to endure before the divines were satisfied?

As the atmosphere in the room solidified, Loreius hardened his heart. He would simply deny everything, claim the rumors of him killing the maids was exaggerated. Sure, he wouldn't gain the support of the southern kingdom with the move, but at least he wouldn't have to grovel.

Not to mention, a deal could still be arranged in other ways. For example, House Ichilia could purchase the fertilizer through third parties, at a slight markup. Surely, this greedy minister would allow him to arrange at least such a deal, so long as they weren't cooperating on the surface. Thus, the young lord steeled his heart and got ready for his denial, when a sudden voice in the almost empty room broke through the atmosphere.

"Mellana is still alive."

Confused after his previous determination was deflated, Loreius turned towards the source of the sound, as did his two guests, with similar expressions of bafflement on their faces.

For a second, Lord Ichilia just stared at the man who stood at the edge of the room, between two of his almost identical looking fellow guards.

"And who are you?" was all he could ask. Today, the surprises seemed to know no end.

__________________________

Numb to her core, Inti was following behind the strange guard who had claimed that her sister was still alive. Together with her — and most likely just as confused — were Brym and the man who had presumably killed her sister. Though for now, such judgment was on hold until she had ascertained the truth of the guard's words.

After his irresponsible and disrespectful claim, Inti had gotten a bit angry at first, as evidenced by the slowly developing swelling around the guard's left eye. If Brym hadn't held her back at the right moment, who knows what she would have done.

However, when confronted with aggression, the man had not fought back. Instead, he had hastily offered to show proof, and thus the man's punishment was delayed. However, should this just prove to be yet another attempt of Loreius Ichilia at obfuscation, she would never be held back again.

Until then, the strange guard had asked them to follow along, to see his so-called 'proof'. For what it was worth, he began to explain his part of the story as they were walking first through Gold Manor, and then through the inner city of Huaylas.

"My name is Avitus d'Ichilia. A head guard of House Ichilia, responsible for the protection of Gold Manor," he said. "As a humble warrior within House Ichilia, this simple servant was been smitten by Mey — that would be Mellana — the moment she appeared, all those years ago. When, on the order of Lord Loreius Ichilia, all maids were to be executed that day, this simple fool's heart broke. Yet there was still a chance to save my love's life, if only at high risk. The masters did not care to watch the maids die. They were too busy with their own duties for such enjoyment. Thus, when the maids were all locked away awaiting their end, this fool took his chance. In the end, I managed to replace Mey with a female prisoner who had been locked up before, and it was this woman who died in Mey's stead."

"What!? How dare a mere servant-" Loreius shouted.

As soon as this warrior didn't follow his every order, the vile lord Ichilia was ready to enact his tyranny upon the brave man. The already moody Inti was ready to step in and teach the beast a lesson, but Brym was faster. He held back Lord Ichilia just how he had held back Inti before, and interrupted the lord's screams.

"Lord Ichilia, you best stay quiet for now," Brym advised. "It would be in both of our interests if Lady Mellana was still alive, so let's just be happy with this one disobedient warrior of yours."

Ichilia only snorted in response, a move Inti was eager to copy, though for different reasons. While everyone else was busy snorting, Brym turned towards Avitus.

"Rather than talk about disobedience, I am curious why that female prisoner would willingly replace Lady Mellana and go to her death."

"She had been stuck in prison for long, with no way out. I offered to pay a compensation to her family in return for her cooperation. She eagerly accepted the only benefit she could gain before her death," the guard explained coldly, though his movements became stiff and his face looked a bit cramped. For a few seconds, they walked in silence, before the guard continued his story.

"After my operation, Mey spent the next few months in the dungeons of the Gold Manor. I made sure to change shifts with fellow guards, so I could spend as much time there as possible to make sure no one could harm her. Then, at the start of the southern war, both masters left to lead the military operations, and with them left most of the warriors in the city. Even more, most warriors never returned. Using the opening, I managed to finally sneak Mey out of Gold Manor. Since then, she has been living safely in an abandoned courtyard in the inner city. Since so many of our men never returned from the war, there are many of these abandoned courtyards around these days. We're here."

Halfway up the side of one of the hills of Huaylas stood a small courtyard, surrounded by a fence of bamboo mats. Unlike most medalan houses, which were open to the outside to the point that many courtyards didn't even have a proper fence, this one offered a lot more privacy.

Not only did the bamboo mats shield the courtyard from the outside view, its position itself was also quite remote, hidden in the shadow, halfway up the mountain's southern side. Whatever warrior was living here before the war couldn't have been too wealthy, to chose such a remote location for his home.

"Please, master, dear guests, wait here for a moment. I will enter first and explain matters. Mey can be a bit jumpy with strangers, as one could imagine."

Thus, the guard called Avitus bowed his head to the three of them and turned to open the yard's outer gate. While Brym returned a friendly smile and polite nod, Ichilia the villain looked like he had swallowed a fly. As the absolute authority in Huaylas, he wouldn't be used to such informal words from one of his servants, even less so from a disobedient one.

Though maybe by now, the guard understood that he wouldn't have to show such respect any longer. Now that he had admitted to betraying his lord, he wouldn't be able to stay in Huaylas anyways. Most likely, if Lord Ichilia didn't do anything rash, the guard would leave the city together with Brym.

However, the third visitor to this yard had no mind to think about such complex details. She neither held Brym's friendly confidence, nor Ichilia's seething anger.

All this time, Inti's body had simply followed along, her limbs as numbed as her mind while she tried to make sense of the mess in her head. Again and again, the same questions ran through her mind like a carousel.

How many times had she tried to contact her sister over the past year? How many times had she tried to save her? When had she lost hope? And most importantly: What was this? A cruel joke this guard or his evil owner was playing on her? Or was it a miracle? Finally, the voices she heard from inside the yard gave her the definitive answer to at least the last of her questions.

"Avi, you're back already." The voice was still the same, just how Inti remembered it. Still with the same tone, calm and melodic. Mellana had always been the most musically gifted among them.

"What are you doing out here, Mey? You should be staying inside," the guard asked, his tone flustered.

"If you want me back inside, you should help me take these down," the first voice complained. Almost unconsciously, Inti marched straight up to the courtyard's gate, which the guard had left slightly ajar. In a trance, her hands stretched forward and pushed as she stepped straight through into the open yard.

"Of course..." the guard replied without hesitation at first, before he trailed off and then changed his tone, now flustered once again. "No wait, that's not important right now! There's something I have to tell you."

Yet before the guard could tell her anything, Inti had already entered, to see a picture she wouldn't forget for a long time to come. The courtyard was simple, just some grass along a hill, with a babbling brook in the corner, which formed a small stream down the hill and out of the yard. Halfway up the hill stood a small house, at least by the standards of Huaylas' wealthy warriors. In front, someone had put up a clothesline, which was currently hung half-full with freshly washed and dried clothing.

And there she was. Next to the guard in front of the small house's entrance, her arms laden with freshly plucked laundry, stood the woman Inti had seen in her nightmares for the past year. Even after her imprisonment, Mellana still looked almost exactly how Inti remembered her.

"Sister!" she shouted up the hill, which disrupted the conversation between the couple. Only now that Mellana turned towards her did Inti realize that some things about her sister had changed after all. Thus, even more shocked than before, she finally added: "You're pregnant."

Chapter 447 - Smooth Negotiations

Not long after Brym and Inti entered Gold Manor, two of the only overweight warriors in Medala came face-to-face with each other. However, there was none of the merriment one would expect in a meeting between two kindred souls. Instead, the giant hall was scarily empty. Unlike the opulent outside of the manor, the inside seemed almost deserted. Only a single table had been erected in the center of the giant hall, surrounded by three reclining chairs for the master of the house and his two guests.

Maybe he's trying to act poor so I won't ask for too much?

It was an obvious ploy from Lord Ichilia to improve his position during the upcoming negotiations, as were the two dozen or so warriors who lined the edges of the room. They stood there weapons at the ready, all in heavy armor and with stiff posture.

Feigning strength, are we? Or maybe you're trying to intimidate me, Brym thought, and observed the young lord to his opposite.

Despite rumors of his legendary weight, Loreius Ichilia was only somewhat portly. Instead, he seemed a bit haggard, especially in his face. Despite the best attempts to mask his flaws with makeup, Brym could still see the dark shadows under his eyes.

Apparently, the last few months haven't been easy on you, Lord Ichilia. I hope these talks will be more harmonious, or you might collapse on me. So let's first restore a more amicable atmosphere by breaking this shallow show of strength, shall we?

"Lord Ichilia, are we under arrest?" Despite his words, Brym leaned back calmly and with confidence. In comparison, the portly master of Huaylas already looked sweaty and uncomfortable, and all the guards in the world couldn't help him.

"Of- of course not," he managed to stammer out. "The men are only here to show respect to our valued guest."

Well, no reason to put too much pressure on our host, Brym thought when he saw such a big reaction from Loreius. I'm here to sell, not to blackmail. And he won't be any good to me if he can't form coherent sentences.

"Yes, although I do not like to be watched while eating, the amenities have been more than adequate. For that, Lord Ichilia deserves thanks," Brym said. At the same time, he took a bacon-wrapped fruit and chucked it into his mouth. Although the room was mostly empty, with only a simple, three-sided reclining table in the center, the table was still loaded with all kinds of delicacies.

"Indeed, Minister Brymstock is a kindred spirit, as expected," Loreius said and laid back down on his recliner, now finally visibly relaxed. "We have done our best to offer a feast palatable to one who has lived in Rapra Castle."

So the fear from before was faked, huh? Who said this guy isn't all that smart?

Rather than uncover the truth, Brym focused more on another aspect which surprised him.

"Oh, have the dishes of the south spread this high up north?"

"Of course, everyone has heard of the great, opulent feasts prepared by the servants of the southern king for the lords of the south. Even in Huaylas, we have done our best to copy the style, and to iterate on modern Sachay dishes." He stretched forward and picked a golden-brown piece of dough from a precious porcelain plate. "Like this new creation. Frying dough in cooking oil is a technique we have learned from Saniya's banquets. However, we have added our own twists to the dish."

Intrigued, the foodie Brym picked up one of the dough pieces himself and bit into it. Immediately, a strong, fishy taste exploded in his mouth.

"Sardines and olives?" the foodie commented, and threw the rest of the warm dough pocket into his maw. "Not bad."

Although he personally preferred the original made with powdered sugar, and even moreso the variant made with honey and whipped cream, he wouldn't say as much to his host. He wasn't here to critique the food after all, he was here to sell his product. For that, he had to make the buyer happy first.

"Yes, the southern king's chefs have been a great inspiration for us," Loreius fawned again. "And this humble lord also needs to give his thanks to Minister Brymstock for the precious plates, which have doubled the taste through their presence alone."

I already noticed without you drawing more attention to it, I'm not slow in the head.

All the foods on the table had been served on the expensive Chutwa glaze which Brym had only just gifted House Ichilia upon his arrival. Over the past few years, trade routes from Saniya to Chutwa had been established. Since then, more and more of this precious porcelain had been imported into the south, and then traveled further north for sale. However, demand still far outstripped supply, so even the wealthiest noble family in the west was happy to receive them as gifts. Of course, Brym knew more about their true origin, so he felt a bit awkward, being praised like that.

Thus, Brym refrained from commenting and simply smiled as he pretended to chew. However, Loreius was undeterred in his enthusiasm.

"Minister, this humble master of these lands is truly happy to present such a feast to his guests." As soon as he had spoken the words, Loreius looked to the side with a horribly acted sadness on his face. "Alas, this unfortunate one is truly dismayed that such days of opulence will soon be coming to an end."

Is that the best you can do? Act pitiful because you'll have to slightly shrink the size of your feasts in the future?

Although Brym was unimpressed by the methods of Loreius, he knew where the lord was going with his blunt segue. Since their planned direction was the same, the merchant was still happy to play along with the act.

"How could that be?" he asked in pretend shock. "After all, Huaylas is the great paddy field of Medala. If even House Ichilia runs out of food, would the rest of us not have to starve to death?"

"This used to be the case, of course. Yet those days are long gone." Again, one of the richest lords of Medala pretended to be pitiful. "After all, most lords in the north now make use of the southern kingdom's miraculous fertilizer, yet House Ichilia's past arrogance has denied itself these boons of cooperation."

You can really talk, huh? Big brother Corco surely would have a fun time with you. Or he'd scream to keep it simple, depending on his mood.

While suppressing a laugh at the thought, Brym replied: "Since House Ichilia is now being led by a wise lord like Lord Ichilia, there is of course no reason to deny the lord's request. No less if there is so much money to be made on such trade."

There was no reason to deny the request, or to bother with Lord Ichilia's fake manners and transparent flattery. After all, they were only going through the motions here. Most likely, Loreius had made a detailed plan for today's negotiations long ago, just like Brym. And just like Brym, he seemed to have come to the conclusion that smooth cooperation was the best way to go.

Who said that this Lord Ichilia is arrogant and overestimates himself? He seems quite clever to me.

Though of course, that didn't mean that both of them would agree on every matter. It was time for Brym to guide the talks in an even more beneficial direction.

"However, since the southern kingdom will do such a favor for House Ichilia, it would only be fair if House Ichilia were to do something for the kingdom in return as well," he argued.

First things first, Brym had to emphasize that this wasn't an equal exchange, or a 'cooperation', like Loreius had hinted. The Ichilias were in trouble, and they were the ones asking for the southern kingdom's mercy and support. Brym would never allow this young lord to strengthen his position through cheap word play. However, Loreius tried his best to defend his equal position.

"This lord believes that House Ichilia has already given a favor to the southern kingdom. There should be no debts between our houses."

"Is that so? You would not be referring to the incident in the Moonlight Ziggurat, would you?"

Over the course of his journey, Brym had finally heard the full story of Naoka's escape, from Naoka himself no less. Though that didn't mean the minister would agree with Loreius' assertions.

Why are you framing it like a major favor, when it was just a simple sign of goodwill to restore relations?

"Of course," Loreius said and acted all magnanimous. "Without grandfather's help in the Ziggurat, not only would your agent have perished, but even an Elder of the southern kingdom would have been implicated. This patriarch believes such a favor should not go unrewarded."

You started a war against us, you bastard. You think saving a single life not only makes up for that, but even exceeds it?

Of course, Brym couldn't say that. He wasn't here to start another war. Thus, he could only hint at Lord Ichilia's hypocrisy.

"Indeed, Elder Acquilinus provided us with great support. However, the southern kingdom's support during Lord Ichilia's retreat at the end of the southern war should not be forgotten either."

"Support? This Lord believes his retreat at the right time, together with three thousand fully equipped warriors, helped the southern kingdom conquer Antila far more quickly than it would have otherwise."

So you're still arguing, huh? Alright, I'll be more direct then.

"One thousand, not three," Brym corrected first, before he righted his posture, ready to deliver some truths. "Lord Ichilia, the southern kingdom was aware that most of the retreating army was made up of hastily dressed up commoners. However, despite this knowledge, the southern kingdom recused itself from informing King Pachacutec, who at the time was our ally. Had the king of the center known of Lord Ichilia's deception, who knows if Huaylas would still be standing today. Thus, this minister believes that we do not owe anything to House Ichilia. Instead, it is Lord Ichilia's house which has an obligation to restore relations."

In his little speech, Brym had mentioned all the fallacies hidden within Loreius' words so far, except the largest: House Ichilia's direct involvement in the last war. Still, if this lord continued to be stubborn, Brym wouldn't mind being even less polite. Luckily, it didn't come to that, or negotiations may have broken down. Instead, Loreius sank back into his seat, and once more pretended to look weak and defeated.

"In that case, what can House Ichilia do for Minister Brymstock?"

As soon as the insistence on an equal relationship was broken, Brym fully sat up from his recliner and pulled out one of his bonds, which he then proceeded to enthusiastically introduce to Lord Ichilia. All the while, he continued to observe the young lord's expression.

He doesn't seem to be put off by the idea. That's good.

"House Ichilia can consider purchasing some bonds," the lord finally said. "However, is it possible to use these notes for the purchase of fertilizer and other goods from the southern kingdom?"

"Of course," Brym shot back immediately. "However, as part of your favor, we would like Lord Ichilia to abstain from using the bonds for a while. Otherwise, there would be no point to buying them, and using money directly would be just as good."

"Indeed. Since the summer solstice has just passed, any fertilizer would be coming too late for this year's summer harvest. Thus, purchasing the bonds now and using them in half a year's time at the earliest seems like a workable solution. What would Minister Brymstock think about a million Sila for a start?"

At the mention of a mountain of silver, Brym had to control himself so he wouldn't jump out of his seat and hug Loreius, his new benefactor.

Calm, young master Fastgrade. Don't show them you're excited, or they'll try to lower the price. Always look like you're about to lose your job.

As he recalled his big brother's teachings, Brym ate another dough pocket and drank some wine to calm himself down. At the same time, he pretended to think deeply about Lord Ichilia's offer. Only then did he reply.

"Very well, although it is a sub-optimal solution, this is a result I can sell to the King of the South. I might receive a scolding, but I should be able to escape more severe punishment this time."

"In that case, this Lord wishes for us to achieve a long-standing cooperation between our lands, for mutual peace and prosperity." A happy looking Loreius stood up to shake Brym's hand.

Right. You only want peace because your King Pachacutec wants to swallow you whole. Not to mention the nutcase scholars to your north. You look quite desperate for allies.

However, there was no reason for Brym to say any of that. All he had to do was shake that hand and conclude their cooperation. Yet just as he was about to stand up, he looked to the side, towards the third person in the room.

Inti had been sitting between the two of them throughout their meal. In all that time, she hadn't said a word, and she hadn't eaten or drunk anything either. At the start of the talks, Brym had expected her to jump in and interrupt the harmonious atmosphere, but she had remained silent throughout, so much so that Brym had almost forgotten about her by the end. But now that he looked at her stiff posture and clenched fists again, he realized that she had been suffering all evening. Most likely, she had been dying to mention her own purpose for coming to Huaylas, yet had held herself back until now.

This girl is sacrificing herself for the kingdom, Brym realized.

Most likely, she would mention her concerns as soon as the deal was concluded, once she could no longer damage negotiations with her selfish demands. However, by that time, she would also have lost all leverage over Loreius Ichilia. Whether or not her purpose could be achieved by then remained to be seen. What an unnecessary sacrifice this was.

As Brym watched the young woman sit there stiff as a board, giving up her own interests and her family affection in the name of the country, Brym remembered his own past, and his own family affairs, which so closely mirrored Inti's.

Dammit, fine. I'll be the idiot then.

Against his better judgment, Brym pulled back his hand before he reached.

"There is only one final issue to take care of before we can conclude our business," he said.

At the sudden change, Loreius furrowed his brow only for a moment, before he calmly replied: "And what would that be?"

Once more, Brym glanced over at Inti, before he stupidly asked the question which could topple everything he had worked for all evening.

"Lord Ichilia, where is Mellana di Pluritac?"

Hermit's Notes: As usual, everything takes me a day longer than I think it will. So here's the owed chapter, I'll try to get the first regular chapter of the week done tomorrow (aka just on time).

Chapter 446 - Concerns

Two days after the riot in front of the Moonlight Ziggurat had been suppressed, a ship carried away Brymstock Fastgrade, the man who had caused the mess. Together with him came Inti and Naoka, though both of them traveled in secret.

Unbelievably, there was no need for Brym to disguise himself as well, despite the riot he had caused. Instead, he simply hired a boat and left, with his guards and all, without any secrecy. Most likely, the powers that be in Arguna just wanted him gone quickly before he could cause any more chaos. They probably also didn't want to offend the southern kingdom to death by attacking one of its ministers over a matter which was already resolved.

Or maybe they're too busy sorting out the mess to bother with me.

Either way, the state of Arguna's public security was no longer Brym's concern, not for a while at least. For now, he would extend his journey — originally intended to begin and end in Arguna — across all northern estates of Medala. This would add many months to his northern trip.

Oh, the burdens he carried to sell his bonds. If he wanted to drain all the coffers of the northern lords, he would have to put in some more effort. One thing he was certain of, this journey would be an entirely different kind of challenge.

Though that doesn't mean I can't enjoy the local sights along the way.

On the evening of the first day, just into his new journey, the shores of the Argu River receded away from both sides of the boat, until only an endless blue mirror was left as far as Brym's eyes could see. Finally they had entered Lake Nawi, the largest lake in Medala, and one of the empire's religious 'sites of pilgrimage'.

Since they were on their way towards Huaylas, the plan was to travel the entire length of the lake to continue their journey along the Argu. Thus, their boat simply followed the current straight through the center of the lake, rather than travel along the towns and cities which lined the edges of the lake

Since their route was different from the usual merchant vessels, they were soon alone at sea. Thus surrounded by calm and with no distractions anywhere in sight, Brym just leaned against the ship's railing and enjoyed the view of nothing. After a while, the distinctive Lovers' Islands appeared in the distance, a small sprinkling of land dropped in the water like stars in the sky.

"Those are the Lovers' Islands," a voice explained from behind Brym, even though he already knew. Before he could turn his head, Inti had already leaned on the railing next to him and stared towards the islands.

"They look like a nice place to build a summer residence," Brym commented, and tried to estimate how valuable the land here would be.

"The islands are a site of pilgrimage. No noble would be bold enough to build a manor here," Inti explained, and laughed at his insolence before she turned back towards the islands. "However, there are certainly many houses on the islands, due to their usual function."

"So there's a story," Brym understood. "I am dying to hear it."

By now, his estimates on the property value had returned a staggering number, so he was eager to hear if there was any way to invest.

"I'm certain you have heard about the marriage ceremony common in Medala," Inti first confirmed.

"Yes, the marriage between Corco and Sumaci was quite the story when it happened, so I am familiar with the myth."

The story of the hero Pachacutec, who was stranded on an island with a noble woman, who then proceeded to live together in the wilderness for several days before rescue arrived, was quite famous in Medala. The medalans derived their entire wedding ceremony from the myth, though Brym felt like too many of their stories involved that one hero, who seemed to be getting around a bit too much.

Anyway, when Corco and Sumaci had returned after being stranded on a nameless island in the Verduic Sea, they had suddenly claimed to be married already. At the time, the scandal had caused quite the controversy. After all, they had technically fulfilled all requirements of a marriage, yet had not informed anyone in advance, not even their close families. Thus, fierce legal arguments about the legitimacy of Sumaci's queen status were kicked of. Thus, even an outsider like Brym was well-familiar with the myth by now.

"Well, these are the islands where the two lovers were supposedly stranded," Inti explained, unaware of Brym's thoughts. "Every year, thousands of couples spend their hard-earned coin to travel there and spend a few days in a house on an island as part of their marriage ceremony."

Of course, something interested Brym far more than the veracity of such claims.

"Then who are these couples paying? There should be a lot of money to be made here, right?"

"It's the priests, of course. As a site of pilgrimage, it is owned by the local Pacha priests, like any other such sites. There are also temples on every one of the islands, and the couples would go out to pray every day."

At once, Brym lost all interest in the investment opportunity. If the islands were owned by the priests, there was little chance for him to get involved. Instead, he focused on another issue.

"You sound quite enthusiastic. Are you eager for a visit to these islands, lady? We can make a quick stop, if you're so inclined."

If Inti were to leave here and let Brym continue on by himself, various matters in Huaylas would become easier to handle. However, the lady shook her head, much to Brym's regret.

"Not these days," she said. "I hear that pirates have become more and more active on Lake Nawi over the past year. I suspect it has to do with Arguna's weakening authority. That should also be the reason we have not seen any other ships on the lake so far. Normally, the Lake Nawi is the busiest waterway in Medala, especially in early summer, the ideal time to get married. Despite the lake's close proximity to Arguna, even the priests with all their influence have so far failed to drive the pirates out of the lake."

If those pirates are your only concern, then there is still a chance to leave you behind.

"Of course they have," a confident Brym replied, a smug smile on his face. "After all, I was the one who organized the pirate attacks."

"You?"

Finally, Inti turned her head away from the islands and towards Brym, as the wind whipped her half-long hair around her ears.

"It is part of an enduring effort to inhibit trade in the north," the merchant explained their northern strategy over the past few years. "I tend to cooperate with the local bandits, while your mother usually works on the northern lords."

"Should you be telling me all this?" Arguna's head of intelligence frowned, already back in work mode. However, Brym needed her in vacation mode, so he reassured her quickly.

"It's no longer classified information, since our strategy is about to change," he revealed. "Anyways, you won't have to worry about pirates. I can guarantee that no one between Arguna and Huaylas would be bold enough to attack a ship flying the flags of the southern kingdom. So no one will stop you from visiting the Lovers' Islands either, should you decide to pop in for a quick visit. No need to worry, I can continue down the river on my own, and then you can catch up at your leisure."

For a second, the girl seemed tempted, before she shook her head again, much to Brym's chagrin.

"Even so, I will have to decline. I still have business in Huaylas," Inti concluded.

That's exactly what I'm worried about.

"And I presume you are still unwilling to tell me about your business? I'm sure I could be of assistance."

"I need to apologize, Minister Brymstock, but you will find out in due time."

The more he pressed, the more formal Inti's speech and manners became. In the end, he realized that he wouldn't be getting anything out of the lady. Thus, he simply gave up and enjoyed the view in silence.

Let's just hope my worst fears are unfounded, or this visit to Huaylas will be more eventful than Arguna was.

__________________________

The first thing Brym spotted once their boat entered the lands of House Ichilia was a business opportunity.

On both sides of the river, endless golden fields entered the young merchant's view, long before he ever got to see the western capital of Huaylas. The Ichilia territory lay on both sides of the Argu River halfway on its path from Lake Nawi to the Verduic Sea. As such, it boasted some of the best water resources in the empire. Not only that, the land of Ichilia was also particularly plain and fertile, ideal for massive grain cultivation. For generations, this grain had been the source of House Ichilia's power.

Though of course, much had changed over the past few years. With the influx of artificial fertilizer from Saniya, Huaylas had all but lost its status as 'Medala's great paddy field' at this point. Even so, the land was still the most suitable for farming on the Twin Isles, and also the one with the best infrastructure. Especially the land's network of irrigation canals, built over generations of prosperity, gave it an unbeatable advantage over every other estate.

Thus, if the Ichilias were really willing to give up their hostility towards the southern kingdom, they would immediately become the largest market for one of the south's flagship products. With the artificial fertilizer from Saniya, they would once more restore their dominant position in the field of agriculture.

That's surely one of their goals, Brym mused.

In the last war, House Ichilia had been hurt badly. They needed to make use of every opportunity to restore their strength, even if it meant bowing their heads to their enemies. If the young lord of House Ichilia could remain rational throughout, the young minister was cautiously optimistic about this meeting.

There was only one issue which bothered him, an issue which had the ability to ruin this commercial visit.

If only Lady Inti would have stayed on the Lovers' Islands for a visit, if only for a few days.

However, there was nothing Brym could do. Even as a minister of the kingdom, head of the central bank and acting head of the 'Wonders of the World' line of shops, he still didn't have any direct authority over the ghost warriors, much less over one of their leading officers. Even more, he was sympathetic towards Inti's issues, and would never actively prevent her, even if he could.

Although she had yet to reveal the true purpose for her visit to Huaylas, Brym had a pretty good idea by now. The closer they got to Huaylas, the tenser and more taciturn Inti had become. Her obvious mood changes had already told him too much. Together with some old information he had recollected and some more current news he had extracted in several merry evenings on the ship with her men, he had a pretty good idea why Inti was following him on this mission. If he was right, it would make their upcoming negotiations infinitely more complicated.

We'll see when we get there. I like a challenge anyways.

Thus with nothing better to do, Brym continued to read the basic information he had collected on Loreius Ichilia, the new master of Huaylas. This was standard procedure of course. Brym was always eager to know as much as possible about whoever he was talking to. A small gesture of goodwill, or a shared interest revealed at the right time smoothed out conversations far more than Corco's — often cold — logic. Thus, he had always been focused on information gathering.

Though in this case, there was far too much material on Loreius, which had become quite the problem. After all, Corco had identified House Ichilia as one of the southern kingdom's main enemies years ago. Though after several days of intense effort, Brym had finally gotten a handle on the basics.

So Loreius considers himself quite intelligent, but seems to overestimate his abilities a lot. And he likes good food, as well as any other show of wealth, in old Ichilia tradition. It seems I might have to make a short stop in our local shop once we arrive in Huaylas.

By the time Brym had summarized his findings and come up with a strategy for the upcoming negotiations, they had almost reached their goal. Not long after, the former home of the Governor of the West came into view.

Huaylas itself was built in a crook of the river Argu, on a small elevation of five connected hills. Surrounded by water on three sides, the city was uniquely predestined for river transportation, and uniquely defensible. Of course, the strong, slanted city walls made of giant stone slabs helped as well.

Soon, their ship entered into the city proper through the massive harbor, designed to receive countless tons of grain within a few days every harvest season. After a short stop in the local Wonders of the World to rest and to organize some presents, Brym and Inti entered a palanquin and made their way up the five hills of Huaylas, towards the political and economic center of the Medala Empire's western plains.

Of course, the outer city was poor. Unlike Saniya, which was far more egalitarian in nature and didn't have a strict distinction between inner and outer cities, every major city in northern Medala had an outer ring inhabited by poverty-stricken commoners. Though Huaylas, as the food center of the empire, at least had fewer starving people on the streets than other places.

By the time they reached the inner city, the wealth of the locals was already on full display. Although much smaller in size, the inner city of Huaylas wasn't far behind the center of Arguna in terms of its architecture's opulence.

Somewhere in here, hidden in the shadows between these hills, one could also find the 'crypt', the training camp and home of House Ichilia's infamous wraith troop, warriors similar to the ghosts, who specialized in night combat and assassinations.

However, Brym's goal wasn't to sightsee, nor to recruit some more warriors to the south, at least not yet. No, his goal lay inside the massive, six-storey 'Gold Manor'. In truth, the home of House Ichilia looked more like a palace than a manor.

It seems like the war still wasn't enough to drain all the accumulated riches of this ancient power, Brym mused.

Even so, Loreius Ichilia would be in a hurry to preserve his family's status. Ever since entering the inner city, Brym had seen only a few warriors walking along the streets. Even more, most of the warriors seemed to be in a bad mood, unlike the commoners outside.

With the massive losses House Ichilia had sustained during their unfortunate crossing of the Narrow Sea, the house's foundation of power was standing on wobbly legs. Once more, Brym found a small edge he could exploit during negotiations. Clearly, Lord Ichilia would be quite desperate, and thus would be more willing to accept harsh conditions.

Thus encouraged by yet another advantage, Brym anticipated the upcoming talks in a great mood, secure in his strong position. Representing a powerful kingdom sure was great. It made his work so much easier, and would leave him much more time for counting money in the future.

Though as he glanced at the woman in man's clothes sitting next to him, his good mood all but disappeared. After all, his own negotiation disadvantage was sitting right next to him, at least if he was right. Brym just hoped he was thinking too much.

Hermit's Notes: A bit late with chapters this week, because this one chapter once again turned into two (as usual). I'll post the mostly finished second part tomorrow, to catch back up with my release schedule.

Update on Book 0: Redux

Hello again.

Here we are once more with: How's it going with the book?

Well, I'm happy to announce that I actually got quite a bit done over the last two weeks. I'm mostly done with the big picture stuff. I still have a long list of details I need to fix in individual chapters, but I'll quickly get this done over the next few days. 

After that, I wanted to let it sit for two weeks and then look through the whole thing again with new eyes, before I send it off to an editor, get cover/illustrations done and then publish on amazon. 

I'm cautiously optimistic that I'll get this all done within a month, so that's exciting. Until then, regular updates should continue, regularly.

Cheers,

S.H.

Chapter 445 - Escape Plans

"This is your final warning! Remove your warriors from the inner city at once, or your actions will be treated as a threat to the Empire!"

The elite warrior guard of the capital belted his orders right into the 'threat's' chubby little face. He didn't even bother to draw his weapon, despite the great dangers to the empire and everything. Maybe he was relying on the dozens of armed warriors behind him, who had filled the steps leading up to the Moonlight Ziggurat's entrance, or maybe he just underestimated the overweight man in foreigner's clothes standing in front of him.

"Sire, I am a mere merchant. I do not control the men here, and I cannot direct their actions."

In the face of a naked threat, Brym remained calm, though there really wasn't anything he could do in this situation anyways. With a helpless look, he first observed the grumpy guardsman who was all up in his face, and then looked back at the large crowd of warriors which had formed behind him.

By now, these troublemakers were shouting obscenities towards the guards of the Ziggurat. If the streets of Medala's inner city weren't so clean, they surely would have picked some debris off the ground and thrown it as well.

If things got any more rowdy, they could really cause a riot, with unacceptable consequences. Unacceptable for Brym, most of all. Maybe he should have just stayed out of this mess in the first place. But now he was committed.

There was no point thinking about past decisions. Rather, if he managed to resolve this issue without a riot and make his getaway on time, he would still fulfill the mission he had been entrusted with, while generating great benefits for the southern kingdom to boot. Still, as he stood there on a knife's edge and felt the cold sweat soak his clothes, he couldn't help lament his own greed.

Originally, Inti's plan had been quite simple. All he had to do was cause a ruckus in front of the Moonlight Ziggurat, to draw out the warriors inside. The lady and her ghost warriors would handle the rest. Brym's best course of action had been to use his money and connections to bribe a few warriors. They themselves would then organize a minor protest outside the Ziggurat, based on some perceived slight. In fact, with the chaos in the city, he was sure to find enough warriors who had suffered real injustices he could blame on the priests or elders, so he didn't even have to lie.

Not only that, he would never have needed to come near this manufactured ruckus himself, so he would have been safe even in case a riot truly broke out against all odds. However, as he had thought about it more, he had eventually come up with a 'better' plan, one which still fulfilled his obligations towards Inti, while also letting him fulfill another purpose at the same time. In short, he got greedy.

Rather than just waste money on bribes to cause a mess, I could sell some bonds at the same time and come out with a profit, right?

Those had been his thoughts of hubris, which at the time he had mistaken for strokes of genius. Thus, he used his and Inti's connections in the city to spread the word that he would sell bonds at significantly improved conditions, practically giving away money in the long-term. Though at the same time, he announced that he would sell them only for a single day, and only at a single location: In front of the Moonlight Ziggurat.

And then, he realized that he needed to target warriors exclusively, since no commoners would be let into the inner city in the first place, so they couldn't buy his bonds. And then, since he was already offering those warriors a form of currency they could only spend in his shops or in the southern kingdom, he realized that he could use this method to recruit warriors to the south as well. After all, Saniya still had precious few warriors, after Pachacutec and Amautu took most of the imperial family's warriors with them during the succession.

Thus, he had spread even more rumors, which claimed that the possession of these bonds would grant amnesty to any warrior who betrayed his true lord and fled to Saniya for shelter. In such a manner, his plan had grown more and more outrageous over the past few days.

Not only would he help out Inti, he would also make some money, strengthen the southern kingdom, and weaken their enemies all at the same time. His only mistake had been that he had underestimated the number of warriors in Arguna who were willing to defect. Now, he was left with a real mess, rather than a fake one.

Behind him stood hundreds of ravenous warriors, eager for quick money or a way out of the chaotic capital, and before him stood the combined guards of the Moonlight Ziggurat, ready to protect the home of their masters at any price. Meanwhile, he himself — as well as seven of his shopkeepers who were responsible for selling the bonds — was stuck in the middle, trying to extinguish a burning lute which could blow up the entire capital.

In fact, due to Brym's rumors, the guards couldn't back down at all. Driven by the interests of the noble families behind them, they couldn't allow someone to recruit away the warriors of those families. If they didn't do anything, the precedent would lead to countless imitators. Thus, all that was keeping the peace for now were the scruples of the guards in the face of such a large warrior crowd.

However, if the guards finally lost their patience, Brym could very well lose his life, or at least his freedom. Even worse, if the warriors willing to buy bonds suddenly lost control and stormed the Ziggurat unprovoked, he would lose even more. Even Corco's international reputation could be ruined again, after they had spent so much time rebuilding it.

And yet, Brym couldn't just pack things up and walk away either. At least as far as he knew, his part in Lady Inti's nebulous plan hadn't been completed yet. Even so, now that he was surrounded by threats, he considered simply disappearing anyways. While he didn't want to go back on his word, the stakes were too high right now. This time, he had just barely managed to pacify the guards by telling them that he would talk with the warriors to calm them down.

However, when he returned to the tables they had set up, Brym did no such thing. Instead, he quietly ordered his men to execute their emergency escape plan. After a secret sign into the crowd, a disguised warrior working for them suddenly stepped up to their table.

"Dammit, what is taking you all so long!?" he shouted, and kicked against the table leg.

As a result, the already weakened table leg — prepared in advance for their exit strategy — broke off, and spilled papers and ink everywhere on the ground. For a while, there was even more unrest in the crowd, but at least the warriors weren't so focused on the guards who were trying to prevent them from buying bonds anymore.

"Please be patient as we aim to resolve the issue!" Brym shouted a standard phrase, which bought him a few minutes of grumbling patience. A few minutes would be more than enough to complete their disappearing act.

First, two of his salesmen left to get a new table, another went to get paper, and a fourth to get ink. After a few minutes, another two left to see why the others were taking so long. By this point, only Brym and Alyn were still left standing in front the crowd. However, they had also become the focus of attention as a result. Unlike the others, they couldn't just walk away. Instead, they had to get creative.

Just as Brym planned to complete his plan, another warrior walked up to him, not one of his. Already, the southern minister of finance put his hand on his hidden dagger, ready to protect his life in case this stranger tried anything weird. However, the man only walked close and whispered: "The deed is done, the swallow has left the nest."

Finally, Brym had received the pre-arranged signal from one of Lady Inti's ghosts, just in time. Now that he had fulfilled his commitment, he didn't have to feel bad about his escape anymore.

Thus relieved, he quickly walked up to the head guard again. Again, they exchanged some nutrient-free words, and again Brym made empty promises. The guard was quickly running out of patience, but Brym didn't care anymore. The man no longer mattered, only the horde of warriors he was facing.

Thus, the merchant quickly gave a secret signal to his few remaining warriors in the crowd, who knew what they had to do. In his final performance in Arguna, Brym stepped up on one of the chairs next to their broken table.

"Dear friends," he began, "Unfortunately, I have been ordered that we are no longer allowed to sell our goods, or we will all be executed. Thus, the sale of our bonds will have to end here!"

Of course, the head guard had ordered nothing of the sort. He wouldn't load all of the crowd's anger onto his head and risk a riot. However, before he could refute Brym's words, some voices had already begun screaming from inside the crowd.

"They're treating us as slaves!"

"They're just warriors too, what makes them better!?"

"Goons of the priests!"

Thus, before any of the guards could react, the crowd erupted in curses, and some even charged up to the steps in anger. It would take a long time for the unrest to calm down once more, and the political pull of the Moonlight Ziggurat would take another hit in the process. By that time however, Brym and Alyn had long made their quiet exit in the chaos, protected by the warriors who had screamed the inciting words.

__________________________

Within the dark rooms above the Stone's Throw chess shop, Brym sat alone, hunched over a map of Medala's provinces. Since their little distraction had taken longer than he had anticipated, the impact was also much larger than expected. Now he was known as the guy whose sale stared a riot in the capital.

Surely, many lords of the northern estates wouldn't be happy if he showed up to incite riots. However, on the other hand, a sale so large that it caused public unrest would also serve as great publicity, especially for the most greedy and desperate of lords.

Thus, Brym had to carefully reevaluate his plans. Which estates to visit, and which to visit first, would have a big impact on his sales tour's success. Though one thing he knew for sure already: He couldn't stay here, not if he valued his life.

While he was still deep in thought, his planning session was interrupted by two new arrivals.

"Good work, Minister Brymstock!" Inti shouted. "Where to are you off next?"

"That, dear lady, is something I am considering this very moment," Brym replied. When he looked back up to greet this dark room's owner with a smile, he saw a thin man in ragged clothing stand next to her as she took her seat. Maybe he had stared for too long, but Inti clearly felt the need to introduce the man.

"Ah, this is Naoka, the reason I asked for your support. Naoka, this is Brymstock Fastgrade."

"It is an honor to receive support from a minister of the kingdom," the ragged man said and made a perfect bow. It was a strangely discordant image.

"Not to worry, friend." Brym said, before he silently stared at Inti, who understood his unsaid question immediately.

"Naoka here needs to leave the city, just like you, master. You wouldn't mind the two of you traveling together, would you?"

Another favor, huh? Brym realized.

Clearly, they were planning to use Brym's traveling group to smuggle this ragged fellow out of the city. He didn't really mind helping out the hidden arm of the southern kingdom once more, but only if it didn't interfere with his work too much.

"And where are you going?" he thus asked.

"Huaylas." Inti's grin showed that she was looking forward to his reaction, so Brym acted surprised to satisfy the lady's vanity.

"Our enemies? Why them?" he asked.

"Elder Acquilinus of House Ichilia has recently shown his support for us," Inti explained. "It appears they are ready to reconcile with the south."

Brym thought for a while, before he put the pieces together  in his head.

"That would make sense. They have just barely averted open hostilities with their King Pachacutec, and their involvement in the southern war has cost them too many men. Still, they used to be the richest estate in Medala for centuries. Surely they have plenty coin left to buy our bonds."

Finally, Brym grinned, once more assured in his direction.

"Very well, it appears I'll be traveling south again," he concluded.

"In that case, please give us a time and place for our meetup," Inti said. "There are still some matters I need to arrange before leaving here."

Again Brym looked shocked, and this time he wasn't acting.

"You're coming too?" he asked, and even forgot to call Inti 'lady'.

"Did I not mention this before?" the lady chuckled, happy with his reaction. "After my recent work, I believe I deserve a vacation. And in Huaylas specifically, there is still a private matter I need to investigate."

Hermit's Notes: There we are again. Almost forgot to finish and post this chapter, which is why I'm quite late today. Since I'm already quite tired, I'll post a detailed update on the novel and reply to comments tomorrow.

Chapter 444 - An Enemy's Debt

By the time the corridor was about to split in front of Naoka and Elder Saqartu, the head guard who opposed them had long moved behind the other guards. While the ghost warrior had been busy trying to keep the situation under control, the guard had gotten into position to do the same. Yet so far, he hadn't acted on his impulses.

While Naoka had pushed back the guards, he could already see the unwillingness in the head guard's face. Yet there was nothing the ghost could do to improve his odds. Thus, he simply had to continue forward in hopes that the guard would remain sane and restrain himself until they got away. All this time, the guard's nerves had still held. Now however, when he was forced to make a final choice on whether to let them go or not, his choice was an emotional one, one which drove Naoka into a corner once again.

"Stop!" the head guard shouted. At the same time, his axe crashed into the ground, and produced bright sparks in the gloomy corridor.

Suddenly, the retreat of the remaining four guards was cut off. Boxed in between the two sides, they now had to make a decision as well: Either defy their superior to protect the elder, or fulfill their duties and stop the prisoner's escape, possibly at the risk of an elder's life. Yet since Naoka couldn't act, in fear of provoking them, there was only voice left which could sway the guards.

"Any man who does not follow the orders of the Divines will have committed heresy, and will be executed on the spot!" the head guard growled through gritted teeth to confirm his determination, maybe to himself more than to the other guards. Even so, the others finally paused in their retreat. After he had intimidated his fellow guards, their leader turned towards Naoka, and said in a stern voice: "You will release the elder, and you will surrender your weapon, or you will not leave this place alive."

The bellowing voice was well-trained, used to giving orders. As a result, the remaining guards had listened straight away. Though of course, Naoka could never do the same and accept the guard's command. After all, the falsely kidnapped elder was the only advantage he had. If he let him go, he would be overwhelmed in seconds, no matter his strength.

"Let me through, or the old man is done for!" he thus tried again. Maybe the head guard was simply bluffing, and trying to intimidate him. Maybe if he remained tough, these warriors would still bow to his threats.

Yet the head guard just hesitated for a second, before he stiffened his jaw and said: "Try it then. See what happens to you once you spill a single drop of the elder's blood."

Bastard! We were so close!

How could this idiot not care about the elder's life at all? Did he really think that the head priest could protect him if he caused an elder's death? Whatever this idiot really thought, his bravado was a big problem for Naoka and Elder Saqartu. After all, time was not on their side.

Whatever problem Lady Inti and her ghosts had caused outside the Ziggurat to lure away the warriors, the situation would calm down eventually. After all, the ghosts didn't have the strength to truly organize a storm on the seat of the Elder Council, or they would have done so long ago. Not only that, the bribed warriors would not look away forever either, not if they valued their positions and their lives. By then, all the guards of the Ziggurat would return to their posts all throughout the building. At that point, Naoka would be right back where he had feared to end up had he escaped on his own: Completely trapped, lost, and surrounded on all sides, with no way out.

Worst case, I'll just have to take my life. That way, at least the elder will be able to protect himself.

If worst came to worse, what else could he do? Now that his warrior identity had been revealed, he would no longer enjoy a relaxing imprisonment like before. Rather, he would be tortured day and night to extract information from him. Who had sent him, what were his goals, and how was Elder Saqartu involved? Under the torture, Naoka couldn't guarantee that he would never speak. Not to mention, whoever would hold him prisoner by then could just make up stories based on things he'd never confessed.

And no matter whether he spoke or not, Elder Saqartu was likely to be implicated if today's matter was investigated in detail. For starters, Naoka was quite certain that the elder had never been ordered to look after the Ziggurat's prisoners. However, if Naoka was dead, no one could torture him, and there would most likely never be an investigation. Since the culprit was already dead, there was no need to risk offending an elder and cause more unrest within the Council. If nothing else, at least he could protect his fellow ghosts, as well as his savior.

Just as Naoka prepared himself mentally to make the worst decision, to at least protect the elder's cover, just as the guards got ready to move against the prisoner and his hostage, a third, unexpected party entered the scene out of nowhere.

"What is going on here!?" a voice, both craggly and booming, appeared first and filled the corridor, before a diminutive figure followed from within the darkness. The figure win question as alone, bent and gray, with a large wooden staff which served to prop up his fragile stature. Despite the man's age and his spindly frame, his bearing was still proud, and both his stature and his precious robes exuded the natural authority of a man of power.

"Elder Ichilia!" the head guard shouted, and identified the new arrival in the process. His voice broke from shock, clearly taken aback at the sudden appearance of Medala's former grand elder.

"Shall this elder repeat his command, servant!?" the old man boomed again when the guards didn't answer his question immediately. However, the head guard caught on quickly.

"Elder, this vile criminal has taken Elder Saqartu hostage," he quickly explained while pointing at Naoka with his axe. "Clearly, he is a spy sent by a foreign power, here to kill the elders of the Council and to throw the empire into chaos. We need to apprehend him at all cost, lest he continues with his murder spree after his escape!"

How did you deduce all of that without talking to me? You can even read the future, how impressive.

Clearly, this guard was just making up any random stories he could think of, all to get the newly arrived elder on his side and force a quick decision. Maybe he had expected that Elder Ichilia would love to harm Elder Saqartu, who was part of a different faction, but the old man wasn't heaving any of it, much to both the guard's and Naoka's surprise.

"At all cost you say? At the expense of an elder's life, no less?" the old man simply asked, and narrowed his eyes like a predator staring at prey.

"The Pachayawna has ordered-" the guard tried his old trick again, but this time his reliance on the head priest worked out even worse than it had earlier. Before he could even finish showing off, Elder Ichilia interrupted his excuses.

"This is the Moonlight Ziggurat, this is Arguna! Here, the Elder Council is the highest form of order! It is not the turn of some lowly priest to move the Moonlight Guards as he pleases!"

Again, Elder Ichilia shouted to reinforce his natural authority. This time, however, he had clearly overstretched his stamina, as he fell into a short coughing fit. Yet when one of the guards wanted to step up to support the old man by his arm, Elder Ichilia had already recovered. He waved away the guard, before he once again turned towards their leader.

"Know this, guardsman: If your actions cause harm to an elder of the Council, your very life would not be enough as a penance. Should a guard dare stand against the elders, his entire family shall be eradicated, and no priest in this world would have the power to protect them." Rather than shout and embarrass himself again, the elder now growled in a low voice that sounded like gravel and sand.

For a few seconds, the stubborn head guard just stood there, once again facing off against an elder of the empire. However, his position was now even worse than before. If Elder Saqartu had died alone, without any witnesses present, he could still make up some story about the the reckless prisoner who had killed the elder despite the guard's best efforts to stop him. However, he couldn't just kill two elders and hope that anyone would still believe his lies. Not to mention, they were elders from two opposing factions. Once they unified in revenge, the entire Council would stand against him. No matter where his loyalties lay, no matter how much faith he had in the Pachayanwa's protection, surely he would understand that stubbornness here would just cause his senseless death.

Thus, as Naoka had predicted, the head guard held his stare only for a few seconds, before even he finally had to give in and lower his head towards the elder. Less than a second later, he turned towards his subordinates.

"Make way, move to the side and let them through! Don't harm them at any price!" he shouted while shoving his fellow guards out of the way in a fit of anger.

Meanwhile, all the other guards moved to the sides of the corridor, as they visibly took breaths of relief. They didn't even complain about the head guard's rough handling. Most likely, they were just glad that they no longer had to get involved in this mess.

Even so, for Naoka, the tense situation persisted. How could he guarantee that none of the guards would decide to play hero at the last moment and cause a mess? Slowly, with Elder Saqartu still his fake hostage, he stepped through the guard of honor formed by the honorable guards, his body always twisted to face the nearest man. Especially the head guard glared at him with deep malice, and never let go of his weapon. Yet despite Naoka's tense nerves, no one acted until he reached Elder Saqartu on the other side.

At last, he could breathe again. Luckily, the old man Ichilia had shown up on time. Even more lucky was that the elder had prioritized his power struggle with the Pachayawna over his conflicts with the elders of Sachay.

If Ichilia hadn't shown up and insisted on the primacy of the elder council over the priesthood, Naoka would have never made it out of here alive. Although the old man had done it for his own selfish reasons, the ghost was still thankful. Now, he owed a life debt to two elders, something he would never be able to repay. In fact, he didn't expect to ever speak with Elder Ichilia in his life.

Yet as he walked past the old man, a face filled with age spots closed in on them. In shock, Naoka stood still again, and just watched the ancient lord's glacial movements. What was this old man planning again? After all, House Ichilia was still King Corco's enemy at the end of the day. Whatever it was, Naoka once again wouldn't dare harm an elder, whatever he was trying to do.

He's my savior anyways. It's not too bad if he wants to cash in his debt right away, he thought, and accepted his fate. In the end, he was only worried for Elder Saqartu's safety.

However, the old man just calmly walked next to Naoka, as if nothing existed: Not Naoka's concerns, not the tense guards in the background, not the axe in the ghost's hand, or the hostage at the end of it.

"Never forget, you owe House Ichilia a debt," the elder finally whispered. Before Naoka could even process the old man's words, he had already walked past them, to stand between them and the guards and cover their retreat.

Thus, the ghost and the elder could continue on their way unopposed, though they left with a few additional questions left to ponder. Until they left the Ziggurat through a hidden side entrance some time later, they didn't meet another soul.

Hermit's Notes: Since I'm quite a bit ahead on releases right now, I might stop posting new chapters for a week or two and concentrate fully on finally getting the Book 0 rewrite done. I wanted to be done months ago, but every time I go over it I find more stuff I don't like, and I'm never happy with the final result.

Maybe this time I'll get it done. Wish me luck. :D

Chapter 443 - An Elder's Privilege

Two solitary pairs of footsteps echoed through the dark hallways deep within the Moonlight Ziggurat. No other sound could be heard. In the empty corridor, an elder and a prisoner, men of opposite status, were carefully walking atop the wet bricks.

"Not to be too forward, but won't Elder get in trouble for helping with the escape? Wouldn't it have been better to take care of those guards permanently?"

Although Naoka had many questions, this one was the most pressing. After all, as a simple warrior, he could never afford to be responsible for troubling an elder. However, Elder Saqartu simply smiled again, in his usual, kindly manner.

"Oh no, never," the old man said. "The elders have immunity from most criminal charges. And the young men down there were only following their orders. This elder would not wish to see permanent harm come to them, simply for doing what they have been trained to do. Further, they will only cause trouble for themselves if they speak of today's events. Losing to an old man is a great loss of honor, and fighting an elder will only put them in the center of a fierce, political conflict, one a simple warrior is unlikely to survive. Most likely, they will keep this elder's involvement secret, if only for their own good."

"But what if they do talk, and then the grand elder overrules Elder's immunity and punishes Elder anyways?"

"The council protects its own," Saqartu simply said, before he looked at a confused Naoka and realized that he had to explain a bit further. "If one of the elders loses his immunity based on the grand elder's arbitrary tyranny, the immunity for all other elders would be void as well. Viribus would only dare punish this elder if he were willing to force an open war against the entire Elder Council. During the next Noble Assembly, the houses may even collectively impeach the grand elder as a result."

Although the Noble Assembly only came together occasionally, the collection of all lords of Medala still had a lot of power once they unified behind a common cause. If they could gather a large enough majority, they could even remove the grand elder from his position. Of course, all noble houses would receive instructions from their elders in the Council should the grand elder decide to threaten their immunity. Thus, even the grand elder's power wasn't unlimited in this matter.

Finally, Naoka was relieved. However, he hadn't thought through all the implications of an impeachment, when the elder already continued. "Not to mention, Grand Elder Viribus may be in no condition to punish this elder, thanks to you, young warrior."

Again, the elder showed a casual attitude, this time followed by a joyous laugh. And yet again, Naoka was shocked.

"How much does Elder know?" he asked on reflex, before he realized his rudeness and lowered his head. "Please excuse this servant's forward manner."

"Not to worry, please raise your head and look where you are walking instead. This old man is only a southern pirate after all. Pirates care little for manners." The elder paused, maybe waiting for a response to his joke. Of course, Naoka would never dare laugh at an elder, so the old man waited in vain until he had to continue on his own, this time in a more serious tone.

"This elder knows enough of your plans," he says. "This whole operation has been planned by Lady Inti. In the end, this old man got involved temporarily, as part of a broader agreement between House Saqartu and House Pluritac. Many strange events have taken place in the south in recent months, most which you may not be aware of."

Of course, Naoka was curious what he had missed. However, he certainly wouldn't be bold enough to use an elder as his source of information, no matter how approachable he seemed. Thus, they walked in silence for a while longer, until Naoka once again simply couldn't restrain his curiosity about the strange manner of their escape.

"Where are all the guards?" he asked. If the Ziggurat were always this empty, he could have escaped weeks ago.

"Oh, they should be busy." The elder chuckled. "A number of them, we managed to bribe. They will be on break right now, or following imagined clues to stay out of the way. The more upright guards, ones who would not be bribedd, will be outside, to deal with the mess caused by your master."

"Wait, there really is a riot?"

Despite the repetition, Naoka never ceased to be shocked at the elder's revelations. A riot at the seat of Medala's power was far too bold, even for his master.

"There should be," the elder said with a casual shrug, apparently not caring whether their plan could succeed or not. "if everything has gone to plan, then your lady should have received some additional help from the southern king's minister. Your two watchdogs back there are fiercely loyal to the grand elder and resisted any attempts to move their posts in advance. Thus, they could only be taken out directly. However, if your lady has done her work, there should be no one left between you and your freedom, young warrior."

With Naoka's curiosity sated, they continued to walk through the empty corridors of wet stone. Sometimes they walked up, and sometimes they walked down. Either way, the ghost warrior realized that he would have never escaped this maze by himself, even if he had a map. Thus, they came closer and closer to freedom, with no interference. However, just as Naoka began to relax, his worst fears were realized. On another long climb up the slopes of the Ziggurat's inside, five guards appeared all of a sudden and came towards them. Naoka's first instinct was to run, but he couldn't afford to leave the elder behind, so he had to face his newest opponents.

"Halt!" the guard at the front of the group shouted. Based on his feathered helmet, he was one of the city's elite warriors. Not only that, both him and the remaining warriors were armed to the teeth, at least compared to the guards in his cell, who only carried a short axe and wore simple cloth armor.

Five against one, seems like we can't fight our way out of this one, Naoka analyzed in a split-second.

Of course, he instinctively dismissed the elder as a fighting force. In a frontal confrontation, the old man would be of questionable help, no matter how he bragged about his past. Not only that, Naoka also didn't want to risk causing injury or worse to a member of the Elder Council through his actions.

If he did, no one would show any sympathy towards his circumstances and let him off easy, neither his enemies, nor his allies, not even his own ancestors in the starry sky. Such actions would not only damn himself and his family, but even his immortal soul. Whatever happened today, Naoka would make sure to protect Elder Saqartu's safety, even if it cost him his life.

While the ghost warrior was steeling his determination, the elder he had just sworn to protect stepped forward and stood between Naoka and the warriors opposite.

"What is it?" Saqartu huffed. "Which guard would dare stand in the path of an elder?"

The four guards behind took a step back, out of learned fear and respect of the elders. However, the head guard stood his ground, which further tightened Naoka's nerves. Rather than reply to the accusations, the guard stared at the elder first, before his eyes drifter towards the former prisoner behind Saqartu, still dressed in the rags of a convict and openly carrying an axe in his hands. As he did so, the guard's eyes narrowed slightly, and his hand inched closer to the weapon hung on his waist.

This won't be easy, Naoka concluded.

"We have order to let no one pass, and to defend the exit behind us at all cost," the guard finally said, and stood his ground. Whoever this guy was, he knew where they were going, and had every intention to stop them.

"Young man, do you know who you are talking to?" the elder tried again, but the guard showed none of the respect an elder would deserve.

"These are the direct orders of the Pachayawna," the guard insisted. "Not even an elder can overrule the words of the Divines, not until they have reached the stars themselves."

Oh great, a religious nut. This won't have a peaceful end.

Over the past years, as new religious ideas had spread throughout Medala, the Pachayawna had become more and more protective of Arguna, the core of his power. This was doubly true for the Moonlight Ziggurat, where the scholars, the Arcavus-adherents or the southern reformers couldn't even be mentioned without punishment. During his years inside this place, Naoka had witnessed how more and more guards had begun to directly obey the head priest's words, even though the priests were supposed to have no secular power.

Now that the radical head priest had interfered directly by sending his loyal guards, they were in deep trouble. Backed by direct orders from the Pachayawna, this head guard could be bold to stand his ground. He would never be deterred based only on an elder's authority alone.

Apparently, Elder Saqartu had come to the same conclusion. Thus he stood there, brows furrowed, trying to find a solution for their newest dilemma. Meanwhile, the head guard blocking their way looked more and more impatient.

This can't go on, or I'll still end up implicating the elder.

Unlike the grand elder or the Elder Council, the Pachayawna wouldn't have to respect Elder Saqartu's status and could punish him with impunity. At least he could do so if he had proper evidence of treason or heresy to justify his actions. Once the deed was done, the other elders could protest at most. After all, not even the Noble Assembly had any authority over the head priest's position.

Such an outcome had to be avoided, no matter what. If Naoka didn't want to implicate his savior further, and with the elder also implicate himself and his entire family, he needed to act before anyone else could.

Within a split-second, Naoka found the only solution which could save Elder Saqartu in this moment, while still leaving himself with a sliver of hope. Before anyone else could move and break the delicate balance between the two groups, the ghost warrior stepped forward and to the side, half a step behind the elder, and held his axe blade against the old man's neck.

"No one move!" he shouted. "Let me out of here, or the old man dies!"

Although Naoka almost shuddered at the disrespect, he had to sound serious if he wanted to intimidate the guards. Unfortunately, his gamble seemed to have the opposite effect. In response to his sudden threat, the warriors all put their hands on their weapons, and stepped forward.

"Protect the elder," one of them shouted. Apparently, not all of them were loyal only to the Pachayawna, or maybe the guard was simply provoking the elder's death on purpose. Either way, both Naoka and Elder Saqartu would be in trouble if the warriors just charged them with a hot head, or called their bluff. Luckily, the elder also had a fleet mind.

"Do as he says, he is a madman!" Saqartu screamed in acted panic, to stop both those with hot heads and those with bad intentions. With this display of fear, and an added warning, those loyal to the elders wouldn't dare risk injury to the old man. At the same time, anyone with calculations for the elder's death would have to stop in the face of a direct order as well.

Thus, in response to the elder's shout, the guards who had been ready to move stepped back in panic. Even those belonging to the Pachayawna wouldn't dare cause the death of an elder due to negligence. In that case, even the head priest would have a hard time protecting them.

Thus, the situation had become even more tense between the two sides, Though at least now, the initiative was back with Naoka and the elder. Step by step, the ghost warrior walked forward, towards the guards, using the elder as a shield. And step by step, the guards were forced to retreat back up the slope they had come from.

Eventually, they would come across a fork in the road, and then there would be enough room to drive the guards inside, while he would be able to escape through the freed corridor beyond them. As far as Naoka was concerned, this was the best outcome he could hope for.

While he would safely escape, Elder Saqartu would be able to claim that he had been coerced by force, and would no longer suffer any accusations from the Elder Council or the head priest.

At most, they would be able to label the elder as cowardly, though even then, they would have a weak case. In the end, the elder was preserving his valuable life in exchange for an unimportant prisoner's escape. No one within the Ziggurat would be silly enough to suggest that a member of the highest class should die just to help some ordinary warriors fulfill their orders.

Thus, Naoka would escape, and the elder would face no consequences for his involvement. Everything was going well. However, as they finally approached a forked corridor in the distance and Naoka was ready to shout new orders, the head guard once more showed his determination to frustrate their well-laid plans.

Hermit's Notes: Two more chapters today. 

With one more chapter tomorrow, I'll finally clean up this old story line from ages ago. I do hope you still remember Naoka and his mission. I know I said that I wanted to avoid recaps in my chapters, but I felt like this one really demanded one.

Chapter 442 - A Prisoner's Chance

Within his generation, Naoka was one of House Pluritac's most accomplished ghost warriors. Though he was still young, he had already survived through many great tribulations. Not least had been their most dangerous days, when the entire imperial court had been controlled by 'Empress Mother' Spuria, and Prince Pachacutec had been all but confirmed as the next emperor. However, even back then, he had never been in a situation as hopeless as the one he found himself in this time.

Back when he had entered the Moonlight Ziggurat, he had known that his mission would be dangerous. After all, this place had been the center of medalan politics for hundreds of years. Not only that, his master Itzali's patient had been the grand elder Viribus, nominally the most powerful man in the empire.

And yet, their true mission had been to poison to death this very man. Without any backup or reliable allies inside the Ziggurat, they had no support and no safety net in case anything went wrong. If their true purpose ever were to be uncovered, or if they failed in their duty as the grand elder's physicians, they would have had to face death, at least.

As a consequence of such danger, Naoka's fake master had escaped from his post the first chance he got. Of course, all of this had been planned by his real master, Lady Inti. As a commoner, Itzali was in even more danger here than the warrior Naoka, and as a famous doctor, his contributions to the southern kingdom were also irreplaceable.

Thus, the doctor escaped as soon as possible, while Naoka continued to administer the deadly treatment in his place. Eventually, he would also find a chance to escape this fancy prison with some help from the outside. That had been the plan. However, much time had passed since then, and so far, no help had been forthcoming.

Thus, all Naoka's despairing eyes could do was stare at the humid stone walls of his windowless cell. Sat atop his wooden bunk, the only piece of furniture in the room, there was little for his view to latch on to. This was where he had spent the past month of his life, though he had become a prisoner much earlier.

After his master's escape, he had simply been held in his room, together with additional 'protection'. Back then, his room had not been such a dingy cell, of course. The aim was simply to prevent his escape, and to keep him employed as the physician of Grand Elder Viribus, as his master's replacement.

As part of his mission, Naoka had tried to solve the elder's various ailments as best he could. Yet eventually, his lack of actual medical training began to raise suspicions. Finally, about a month ago, the elder had begun to show serious signs of mercury poisoning. These were symptoms the people of the Ziggurat would be closely familiar with, since the last emperor had suffered in the same way before his death.

Thus, step by step, Naoka's accommodations had gotten worse. By now, he was a simple prisoner, with no access to the grand elder at all. In his current position, he couldn't escape, and he couldn't continue his true mission of poisoning the elder either. All he could do was wait for a chance, or for his final punishment.

As had become routine these days, Naoka mourned his recent misfortune, when his thoughts were interrupted by a sound from the door.

Looks like it's already feeding time, he thought, as he watched the two wordless warriors enter his cell to perform the only other routine Naoka had left. One guard stepped towards him, and handed him a wooden bowl filled with some kind of indistinct gruel. Meanwhile, the other stood guard at the door, his axe at the ready in case the apprentice doctor tried anything funny.

Over the past month, Naoka had tried to start a conversation with his food servants many times, but they hadn't left him a single sound in response, ever. He always wondered whether they were just instructed to keep quiet, or whether they were actually mute.

Maybe I should just take them out, take a few more bodies with me before the grand elder has another manic attack and orders my death.

His thoughts seemed arrogant, but Naoka was fully confident that he could take his guards in a fight. After all, these two still didn't know that he was a warrior as well. This was made abundantly clear by the lax security measures. They hadn't even bothered with restraints for him. If he waited for the right chance to reveal his strength, he would be able to overpower them with ease. Then, he could take their weapons and escape his cell. However, that would only be the start of his problems.

Even if he made it outside, he had no idea where he was, other than somewhere deep within the bowels of the Moonlight Ziggurat. Even if he knew his location, he didn't know the layout of the labrinthian corridors, so he couldn't find the exit anyways. The exit, not to mention, which would be heavily guarded, with dozens of warriors between it and Naoka's cell.

No, he wasn't yet desperate enough to bet on such a foolhardy plan for a slim chance at survival. For now, he would continue to trust his comrades on the outside instead. The ghost warriors had a reputation as the best spies in Medala for a reason. Surely, they were working on a plan to bail him out right this moment.

As he contemplated his escape, Naoka sipped his gruel, all the while staring down his two captors. Of course the two guards simply returned his stare without a word, as always. This time however, there was a break in the routine.

All of a sudden, the warrior at the door turned around and raised his axe, inn response to loud steps, which echoed through the hallways.

"No need to fret, young man," a kind voice sounded. "You may lower your axe. This elder is here on the orders of the Elder Council."

Finally, an old man with a plump, kindly face appeared in the doorway, his empty hands half-raised to prove that he wasn't dangerous.

"Elder Saqartu. What brings you here?" the warrior at the door asked, much to Naoka's annoyance.

So you weren't mute, you bastard!

However, the presence of an elder in his prison still surprised him. What was this old man doing here?

"A riot has broken out outside the Ziggurat," the old man explained. "Many of the guards have left for the outside to restore order. Temporarily, there are not enough warriors available to cover the entire Ziggurat. As a result, some of the elders will have to go around in person to inspect the prison cells and other locations of interest. Thus, this elder has come simply to see if everything is in order."

As he spoke, Elder Saqartu continued to close in on the warrior.

"Everything in order here," the warrior replied and took a step back. Though his axe was no longer raised, his legs were still bent, ready to pounce. Clearly, he was still vigilant. "Why would Elder Saqartu come here, rather than someone else?" the guard asked the most important question.

After all, Elder Saqartu hailed from a Sachay noble house, no less from House Saqartu, which had been the center of southern politics for centuries. Thus, the elder was often politically isolated within the council. How could it be that someone like this had come here to fulfill such an important mission all on his own?

However, faced with the warrior's veiled accusations, the elder retained his harmless smile. Even so, he stopped his advance three steps from the guard, and then raised his hands further to show that he was harmless.

"This elder is the newest member of the council," Saqartu explained. "Often, the youngest will be forced to handle all undesirable work. Even at this old man's age, these are the rules of society." Once his explanation was done, he leaned to the side and looked past the guard. "Since it appears as if your prisoner is still present, my work here is done." When the elder's words were over, his brows furrowed, before he added: "But what is he doing?"

When Saqartu additionally raised his voice and pointed inside, the warriors turned and called out "What?" in confusion.

Though of course, Naoka wasn't doing anything. There was still a second guard right in front of him after all. Despite the appearance of the elder, guard number two never forgot about his duties and never turned around. However, the ghost warrior could see the chance he had awaited.

Naoka was only surprised for a split second, before he realized that his comrades from the outside had organized his rescue, and somehow it had come in the form of an elder. As soon as Naoka had realized the truth, Saqartu pulled out a dagger from within his long sleeve and pushed it into the side of the guard at the door.

A scream let the second guard in front of Naoka turn as well, to provide support for his colleague. However, before he could react to the strange view of an elder attacking a warrior, the ghost behind him had revealed its true face. Without a sound, Naoka jumped off his bunk and smashed the half-empty wooden bowl over his captor's head.

Not enough for a kill, but you'll be dizzy for a second.

A second was more than enough for Naoka. Before the guard had even reacted, the prisoner had one hand around his captor's neck, suppressing the flow of blood to his head. Meanwhile, Naoka's other hand landed on the guard's axe head, to prevent him from drawing his weapon. The warrior bucked and twisted his body, trying to free himself from the ghost's deadly grip. However, he would have surely been shocked at his prisoner's strength and technique. All this time, no one had ever even considered that this weak apprentice physician could be a warrior in disguise. Yet once the truth was revealed, it was already too late.

Finally, after a few seconds of intense struggle, the warrior's air supply was cut off for too long. Without his faculties, he simply sank on the ground next to Naoka's bunk. When the ghost warrior looked up again, he saw the elder Saqartu sit atop the dazed warrior by the door. If the blood under his head was any indication, the guard had fallen hard on the stone floor. Not only his head was bleeding heavily, but so was the wound from the knife still stuck in his side.

Even so, the man was still fighting back, despite his poor position and heavy injury. The elder atop him was unharmed, but looked frazzled, his gray hair and long robes in a mess. Worse, his face was beet-red from the exertion of restraining the warrior in prime physical condition beneath him. Maybe if there was enough time, the guard would eventually regain the upper hand in their struggle. He would never get the chance.

While they were still busy with each other, an axe joined in on the duel, and lay itself onto the guard's neck. Once his position was hopeless, the warrior ceased all resistance. Thus, Naoka stood above them, the axe in question in his hand.

"Not a move, not a sound," he growled, with all his anger from months of prison rumbling in his chest.

Despite the warning, the guard allowed himself a look at his defeated and unconscious comrade, before his eyes returned to Naoka, now fixed in a shocked stare. Meanwhile, the underestimated inmate turned his attention to his savior.

"How are you, elder?" he asked in a quiet, careful voice of respect, as he stretched his free hand towards the man who was still straddled atop the guard.

"Hah, not to... worry." The old man gasped as he spoke. "Maybe you... have never heard the stories... but... I was a fierce fighter... in my time."

In spite of his prideful words, Saqartu spoke through gritted teeth and heavy breathing, and he took Naoka's outstretched hand with grateful eyes.

While the old man stepped back to recompose himself, Naoka disarmed the second guard, and searched him for any more hidden weapons, as well as his keys, just in case they would need them later. Finally, he drove the second guard over to the first by his bunk, who still hadn't woken up by now. Maybe he was only pretending, waiting on his chance, but Naoka kept his distance, so he would never get it.

"Do we have a plan, elder?" Without looking away from his new prisoners for a second, Naoka finally asked the elder, who was still gasping for air, but was now standing upright again.

"We already have their weapons, and their keys. Thus, we will simply lock them up and be on our way." Suddenly, the friendly old man had the bearing of a true elder again, oozing authority as he gave his orders. Thus, the elder turned towards the two guards across the room. "The two of you, if you simply stay here, nothing will happen to you. At worst, you will be punished a bit for your failure, but others have failed to discover the hidden warrior and did not provide you with enough support as well. Oh, and please do not move too much, lest you bleed to death from your knife wound."

Finally, the elder turned towards Naoka again. "We need to hurry. There is not much time."

Thus, the two slammed the door shut behind them, lowered the latch, slammed the bolt, and went on their way, with the two fresh prisoners left behind in the old-familiar cell.

Chapter 441 - Capital Interests

After tea and some refreshments, Brym had recovered from his long journey to Medala's capital. However, he didn't get much time to rest. Before he could even stretch his legs, he was brought on a tour of the city by Lady Inti.

This time, rather than walking around incognito like he had done before, they traveled in a far more decadent manner. The two took seat in a single, large palanquin, surrounded by four carriers, as they traveled through the streets of Arguna. When Brym peeked beyond the curtains to the outside, he saw that they had already left the squalor of the back alleys. By now, they had reached the main streets, the hubs of the city's economic and cultural development.

Despite his pride as a Saniya resident, Brym had to admit that the view here was still impressive. Countless commoners were mingling with each other, going in and out of endless entertainment facilities and shops to waste their hard-earned money on frivolous luxuries. At least here, the capital was still looking as vibrant as ever.

Normally, the young merchant would be thinking about ways to reroute the available income of these shoppers into his own businesses. Today however, he was more interested in the story tellers who sat on the side of the road and would only earn a few measly copper pieces a day for their efforts.

"And then the miracle king raised his hands, and lightning struck once more upon the greedy..."

"Far in the south, in the distant city of Kapra, a great evil was plotting against the imperial family..."

"Today, I will tell you the tale of the miracle king's younger years, how he traveled to the occident, and fought off the brewing invasion of the eastern foreigners all on his own..."

"And thus the Divines have given oracle of the great Earth, which has imbued all its children with these eternal right..."

As he listened to snippets of the various stories told on the streets one after another, he suppressed the desire to get off his ride and correct their nonsense. Instead, he followed his second instinct: He put on a smug face and turned towards Inti.

"You're telling me no one here would buy my bonds?" he asked. "That seems somehow hard to believe. Maybe if I rename them to 'miracle bonds', they'll be more interested."

"It's not like no one would be interested. I never said that," Inti corrected him. "Just that selling those bonds would not be easy here. Yes, our King Corco is very popular with the commoners, even here in Arguna. Some of the people out there are paid by us, in an effort to drum up support with the general public, but most of them are doing it spontaneously, of their own volition. That alone shows you how much draw the miracle king has with the general public."

"In that case, surely, many of them would be willing to buy the bonds as well," Brym argued. He simply couldn't see what the problem was.

"Especially from the great Lord Brymstock," Inti even added, and smiled at the moniker. "After you established your shops, you traveled around a lot, and became a well-known figure in the north. Just look how well your business is going."

As she spoke, Inti pointed out of the palanquin, at one of Brym's stores. Of course, riding past one at this exact moment wasn't much of a coincidence. Due to ever-increased demand, there were now seven such shops in Arguna alone, all of them along the major streets.

"Lots of commoner merchants would love nothing more to make your acquaintance," the young woman continued. "They would buy your bonds just for the vague hope of a business relationship with the great master Brym at some point in the future. Even some wealthy craftsmen might want to buy your bonds if they're planning to move to Saniya one of these days."

"Then what's the problem?" a confused Brym asked. All of this sounded great to him. If they had the goods and the customers, where would the problem lie? At once, he realized, but Inti said it before he could.

"Once you start selling these bonds, there will be fierce backlash from the authorities."

"Do the local authorities hate us this much? I highly doubt that."

Brym tried to joke away Inti's concerns, but her serious look, and a prolonged silence, confirmed his previous guess. The realization was a great shock to Brym.

After all, Corco was still the eldest son of the previous emperor, and thus the most legitimate heir out of the three kings. Back when they had first come to Arguna, Corco had also been the most popular with the priests, and they had gained many allies both in the Elder Council and in the Noble Assembly over the years. Not to mention the amount of copper and silver Brym had paid out to lower-level officials to grease the wheels of justice.

How could it be that they were so unpopular all of a sudden, eve to the point of impacting their business? In any case, Brym had a hard time believing it. However, rather than reply, Inti first pulled out a pocket watch from within her male-style robes, a marvel of Saniya's engineering. The watch, that was, not the robes. After she had confirmed something, Inti banged against the wall of the palanquin to let the servants stop.

"It looks like we're just on time," she finally said. "They should be starting any second now."

"Starting what?" Brym asked, more and more confused by this new journey across the now unfamiliar city.

"Just watch. It usually goes down around noon, so there are more people around to watch." Together with her non-explanation, Inti offered a cryptic smile and once again pointed through the curtain and into the streets.

On Arguna's main roads, the palanquins of warriors and lords would travel in between the herd of commoners. Every time one of these palanquins came along, the commoners would be split apart like sheep with a sudden wolf among them.

This time, the same thing happened as well, and the commoners stepped back and to the side to make room. However, the palanquins were too many. Several showed up all at once, from multiple directions. Before anyone on the street had noticed, the road was completely blocked. All at once, all the palanquins were dropped, and the carriers pulled out axes and herded the crowd even closer together.

"What is happening?" a shocked Brym asked. Luckily, they had stopped in time, so they were still outside the encirclement. However, the merchant was still worried, since his own shop was in its very center.

"Looks like they've come up with a new method. Just watch," Inti said, and motioned him to stay quiet.

Meanwhile, the former palanquin carriers — now transformed into warriors — were pushing through the crowd, towards the story tellers. One by one, they tried to escape into the crowd or the side alleys, but only a few made it out of the sudden trap. Most were caught by the warriors, and then stuffed into the palanquins, which were revealed to have cages installed inside.

At the same time, one of the warriors walked up to Brym's store, and arrogantly began talking to Alyn, the local shopkeeper, all while several priests showed up to occupy the spots of the story tellers. As if nothing had happened before, they began to rail against the heretical lies of the southern king.

Once Alyn handed a heavy-looking wooden box to the warrior, he gave signals to his surroundings, and the palanquins disappeared as quickly into the crowd as they had come. All they left behind were the priests spreading their propaganda, as well as a thinned out crowd, which soon scattered to leave the store lonely and deserted. Only then did Inti's and Brym's palanquin continue on its way.

"Looks like we're not that popular anymore." Brym sighed.

"You can say that again. Though their methods are new. Usually, more of our people make it out." Inti showed a miserable smile. Clearly, this wasn't the first time she had to deal with this mess. "After they failed to take over the south, the conservative priests who control Arguna have been railing against us almost every day. They constantly try to discredit the 'heretical king in the south', as they call him."

"Aren't they just sore losers?" an annoyed Brym asked.

"But it's been effective. Although we've done our best to spread the writings of the reformer priests from the south, we're fighting an uphill battle. As you've seen, they have organized groups who suppress all dissenting voices. At first, they only went after religious texts, but now they're even arresting the story tellers on the streets, even those who simply praise the imperial family."

Again, Brym found the truth hard to believe.

"The priests don't have that much power in Arguna, do they?" he asked. "I mean, they are attacking Medala's ruling family. Aren't the nobles doing anything to stop them?"

"Who do you think sent out those warriors to help them?" Inti pointed outside, just in time to see the bribed warrior was sharing his spoils from Brym's shop with one of the priests. "Most nobles wouldn't dare support you publicly these days. It's not only the priests, there's also Lord Ogulno's remaining family. The old lord's wife and children have spent all spring in the family's Arguna manor. In that time, they've spent a lot of energy and money running around in upper class entertainments to drag Corco's good name through the mud."

"Uncle killer and such?" Brym guessed immediately. It was a ridiculous claim, of course. Although Corco had personally killed Ogulno, his uncle had already been at death's door at the time, so it had been more mercy than anything else. Though apparently, the rest of the Ogulno clan was no better than their old patriarch, and took full advantage of his death.

"Yes, they especially like to call him uncle killer," Inti confirmed, "that, and a destroyer of tradition, which is even worse in the eyes of the nobles. They claim that Corco attempts to dismantle the entirety of the lord class, and their claims have found the ears of many. After all, it's a fact that three lords have died in the south last winter."

They're not even lying, but it's bad that they're saying it out loud like this.

While Brym still thought of possible countermeasures for the new problem, Inti continued her explanation.

"The Ogulnos obviously don't have that much money to hold banquets and give out gifts, even less so since they've lost their territory. I've already collected evidence that they're being paid by the priesthood. Anyways, as long as those two are working this hard to ruin Corco's reputation, no noble would openly support you. That includes protecting your shops, as well as buying your bonds. After all, it's a bad look to work with the man who aims to destroy traditional medalan society, and all noble families with it. By the way, other forces might be working against us in the background as well, though there's no evidence yet."

No doubt that includes the two northern kingdoms, and maybe the arcavians again, Brym thought. However, he had little doubt about either group's involvement, so he asked about another.

"What about the elder council? They wouldn't act against us?" he asked, and stared at the looming Moonlight Ziggurat in the distance.

Ever since the Succession War, the elder council had been in the hands of Elder Acquilinus Ichilia, and — more importantly — Grand Elder Viribus Pluritac, Corco's great-grandfather. Somehow, Brym doubted that the selfish old monster would miss out on the chance to smear the man who had ruined his plans. However, to his surprise, Inti's long hair flowed around her ears as she shook her head with vigor.

"That seems unlikely, from what I've heard. As I've said earlier, the Elder Council has been strangely quiet these days. According to Elder Saqartu, they haven't been meeting very frequently these days."

"The elder is still on our side, even after what happened to his family?" Brym asked in shock. After all, Elder Saqartu was Mayu's grandfather.

"Yes, the elder was always on Corco's side, just like his son, the late Governor Sonco. In fact, we've had increased contact with Elder Saqartu ever since the civil war started, so I can guarantee the elder's loyalty. Rather, most of House Saqartu has been House Pluritac's ally for decades. If anything, Mayu was the outlier. So coming to an agreement wasn't too difficult. In return for sparing Mayu's life despite his transgressions, the elder will continue to support us at the council, though he also demanded guarantees that Atau retain his position."

"That much, I can guarantee."

Of course, none of Corco's friends were in any danger of losing their posts, at least so long as they were competent. Brym wondered if he should tell Inti about Atau's relationship with Tama, and his increased weight in the government as a result. As an intelligence expert, maybe Inti already knew about it already, but seeing her reaction might still be fun. However, before Brym could say anything, the intelligence expert had already moved on.

"Anyway, the elder said that even during the rare council meetings, Grand Elder Viribus is almost always absent. Whenever he is present, he sits in the shadows and barely talks. Sometimes, one of his attendants speaks for him. His people claim that the grand elder is just ill, but I suspect that the old man Viribus is finally being affected by our little present. Took him long enough, that old monster."

"Big Bro — King Corco that is — once told me that the imperial family's cultivation technique makes people more resistant to poisons," Brym offered as explanation.

"In that case, chances are high that our methods are finally having an effect. I might need to get our agent out of the Ziggurat before anything happens to him."

While Inti was mumbling to herself, Brym was still more preoccupied with his own mission. By now, he had come up with an imperfect solution for his bond sale problem.

"If the elders are too busy with each other to care, then they at least won't stop us from selling our bonds, right? Maybe we won't be able to sell them to the local nobles, but the commoners shouldn't be a problem," Brym mused.

Although their income would be reduced if they couldn't sell to the nobles, the commoners in Arguna also had a lot of money saved up, so the income from bond sales would still be substantial. However, Inti's dreaded head shake was back once more to reject his plan.

"Not exactly. Without any reigning emperor in Arguna, without the elder council, and with the power of the Pachayawna shrinking by the day and focused on the wrong things, the city has lost its three central forces of control. By now, it's a free-for-all out here."

For a second, Brym tried to connect the dots from Inti's statement, before he realized what she meant.

"So we'd be robbed if we handle that much money?" he concluded.

"How else do you think an operation like the one before could happen out in the open, on one of Arguna's main streets? Those were supposed to be safe, you know? Crime rates have gone up, and a lot of it is coming from the local officials." Inti sighed again. Even though Brym was good with numbers, he couldn't even tell how many times he had heard her sound frustrated or tired today.

"If you try to sell these bonds, you will have to sell a lot of them to many different people." Inti continued. "We can't sell to the nobles and the commoners simply don't have as much money per person, so all you can do is increase the number of customers. But selling to that many at once can't be hidden. With this much money changing hand, someone will get greedy, be it local guards or minor officials. And with the current state of Arguna, there's no central authority to protect us, so they have practically free reign."

Faced with reality, Brym fell into silence, as he tried to come up with other solutions. However, none were forthcoming.

"So I came here for nothing?" a frustrated Brym finally asked. When he had come here, he had been optimistic about this plan. Now that he was here, he realized that he had underestimated the political turmoil in the capital. Too much had changed since his last visit in Arguna.

"Not exactly," Inti said. "In the first place, there's few nobles who are in the capital right now. The chaos in the city is one factor, but Arguna has also lost a lot of influence over medala politics. These days, most important decisions are being made in the capitals of the three kingdoms. As a result, banquet season in Arguna is getting shorter every year, and most lords spend all their time at home. Maybe it would be easier to just visit the lords in their territories directly. They might be unwilling to openly support Corco in Arguna, where their reputation would suffer. But no one will know about a private agreement made in their own homes, right? Surely, many would wish for a secret trump card, especially those lords in the north who are suffering a lot under Amautu's increasingly repressive rule. Your bonds would provide exactly that, a lifeline for the lords and an escape route for the commoners."

In the end, Brym's plan would still work out! Although he would have to travel around a lot more, the end results would be almost the same. He almost jumped from his seat in excitement. Only when the ground under his feet began to shake did he remember that he was sitting in an unstable palanquin and fell back into his seat. However, despite his eventual restraint, he was still excited.

"Yeah, that might be a good idea," he said with pretended calmness, though he couldn't help but smile as he planned out a route to visit every rich estate in Medala. "In fact, I've already sold some bonds to Lord Eborius Nasica on my way up north. You know, the lord has always been a great supporter Corco, even more so since he agrees with the southern kingdom's religious reforms."

"In that case, it appears as if your visit to the capital will be short this time around." Inti smiled to match Brym's.

"That's true, how unfortunate." Brym looked out the open palanquin, and suddenly felt melancholic. In the past, he had spent many days here, yet now he could barely recognize this strange city, unchanging and in constant flux. Maybe the next time he came here, even the last few vibrant spots would be gone. Suddenly, he noticed that Inti had been observing him, and he realized that while he was still stuck here, his old business partner was still stuck in this city, still dealing with its slow collapse.

"I would have loved to stay for a while, and help out some more," he said, with real, red shame on his face. "It seems like you're having your hands full here."

In response, Inti smiled like a fox.

"In that case, before you go, there's a favor I have to ask of you," she said. "I hope you'll indulge me, as compensation for my time today."

Faced with such a cheeky smile, and a chance to relieve his own guilt, how could Brym say no?

Hermit's Notes: Another long one. I also might post some other side project on here the next few days, if I feel like it's ready... which I might not. Anyways, have a nice weekend! :D

Chapter 440 - Captial Investment

When Brym had first come to the capital of Medala all those years ago, the city had seemed like a daunting colossus. Ancient and imposing it had stood there, larger in size than any arcavian city, even the vibrant Whiteport or Valerna, the ancient center of the continent.

Just the walls of Arguna were massive beyond scope, as if they had been built to hold back giants, not humans. All year round, the skies over the inner city were covered by a constant blanket of smoke, emanating from the many refineries and smithies of the city. Anyone would be shocked to learn that half of the smoke was produced by the invaluable silver smithies which had made the city so rich and the imperial House Pluritac so powerful. Above it all towered the two symbols of Medala's power: The ancient Moonlight Ziggurat, which symbolized the power of the priests, and the more modern Pluritac Castle, which symbolized the power of the imperial family. Back when he had first arrived here, all of it had left a deep impression on the young Brym.

Yet now that he had returned after several years, much of his previous reverence had disappeared. No emperor had resided in Pluritac Castle in half a decade, and the Pachayawna — the head priest inside the Ziggurat — had since gained competition from scholars in the north and reformers in the south. By now, he was no longer the only authority on the supernatural.

All of a sudden, the two symbols of Medala's power stood hollow. The city itself was still large, that much was true. However, nothing could match the vibrant growth of Saniya. In comparison, the crowds Brym walked past on his travels through the capital looked stunted and strung out, like a fish living in a dirty pond. Indeed, the more he thought, the more apt the comparison seemed. The city's age had made it brittle and inflexible, as if a single push could let it crumble into dust at any moment.

In short, this didn't look like a great city for business, certainly not compared to the cities in the southern kingdom, much to the young merchant's chagrin. That much was doubly true for the chaotic side streets Brym was traveling through at the moment. Although he had half a dozen men with him for protection, he still didn't feel comfortable with the stares aimed at him from within covert side-streets.

Had it been up to him, he would have preferred to meet up with his contact in one of Arguna's local 'Wonders of the World', not least to avoid these dingy roads and its shady inhabitants. However, as he traveled through the familiar streets he hadn't seen in years, and came up to the familiar chess shop, his feelings had already changed.

"This is quite nostalgic," he mumbled as he looked up to the sign of the 'Stone's Throw'. A small smile spread across his face as he thought back to his previous time in the capital, though his memories were soon interrupted by a familiar voice, linked with many memories of Arguna.

"It is indeed. How long has it been?"

When Brym looked back down, he saw a young woman with long, flowing hair standing in front of him. Though due to her height which matched his own, he didn't have to look down too far.

"Lady Inti? What a fortunate meeting," Brym said with a smile.

Over the years, Brym had come to the capital every once in a while, to handle political negotiations, or to check the progress of their business in the north. Throughout that time, Inti had always been Corco's representative in the Triumvirate Meetings, as well as the head of intelligence for the city. Thus, the two had worked together quite a few times over the years.

"Hardly a surprise, seeing as I asked for us to meet here," the usually serious Inti allowed herself a joke.

"This servant apologizes for his overly formal bearing," the merchant said and bowed deeply

For a second, Inti offered Brym an annoyed stare, while the merchant was proud of his formal apology for his formal manner.

"Please come in," Inti finally said. "Let's have a talk."

Moments later, the two sat on a table in the empty chess shop, and the shop's nominal owner Olacu sat down two cups in front of them. Of course, Brym's guards were waiting outside.

"Say, friend, aren't you interested in moving up?" Brym asked the familiar face.

"Up?"

In confusion, Olacu simply looked towards the ceiling, where an access to the neighboring building was hidden, which led to the center of operations for the southern kingdom's intelligence agency in the city.

"I mean, move up in life," Brym explained further. "I've been coming here for years, and you still do the exact same job as always."

"I'm a simple man. My position is already beyond most ghosts in the empire. Only Lady Inti stands above me in rank. How much farther could I possibly move up, great master?" Olacu asked, as he poured steaming tea into Brym's cup.

"You could always move to Saniya. That city is not inferior to Arguna in the slightest," the proud salesman tried to sell his home. However, the customer seemed unimpressed.

"And leave my family? They like it here." Olacu's reply was dry and simple, but it shocked Brym quite a bit.

"I didn't know you had a family," the merchant simply said, while trying to sound as polite as possible in the process. After all, Olacu wasn't called 'the rat' for nothing..

"Rats build huge nests. You didn't know that?" Inti chimed in, her head leaned on her hand as she watched the exchange with a smile on her face.

"Yes, and rats also like big, chaotic cities. The more garbage, the better," Olacu added. Seemingly nonplussed about the insult, he calmly turned his head towards Brym again, as he poured some tea for Inti as well. "I hear through the airwaves that your capital down south is quite well-adjusted. Lots of order."

"Of course," Brym replied, his pride restored once more. "Saniya is the most well-built, well-planned city in all of Medala, and possibly the world!"

"In that case, I'm not interested. I need the garbage, or how else would I burrow and sniff around? Now if you'll excuse me, I think I smell something nasty elsewhere. I'll have to go investigate."

After offering a crooked grin to his guest, Olacu left the half-empty tea pot on the table, and left Brym and Inti some privacy at the same time. While the merchant's son was still trying to decipher the meaning behind the rat's words, the general's daughter had already moved on.

"Sugar?" she asked, and held out a small dish of porcelain imported from Chutwa. Of course, the merchant with the sweet tooth graciously accepted.

"Thank you." While he shoveled mounds of sugar into his tea, he broached a more relevant subject. Usually, he would patiently wait until his opposite got nervous and asked the reason for his visit on their own. However, they had spent enough time on niceties by now, and Brym felt like he had lost control of the conversation ever since Olacu had appeared.

"Lady Inti, it has been too long. How have things been in the city?" he thus opened.

"Slow and chaotic, somehow both at the same time. Diplomatic relations between the three kingdoms have almost broken down." Inti sighed, before she took the sugar dish out of Brym's greedy hands and began to sweeten her own tea.

"We've struck a recent deal with Pachacutec," the merchant argued. After all, Corco's secret agreement with Pacha during the civil war had finally broken the southern kingdom's diplomatic isolation, something the intelligence expert Inti should have been well aware of.

"But that deal of yours was struck outside of Arguna, right?" she shot back and finally raised her tea for a silent toast.

"It did," Brym had to admit. In response, Inti sighed once more, though she sounded more bored than frustrated.

"The simple truth is that none of the three kings have been to Arguna in years," she explained. "Not even Pachacutec, who lives only a few days away from the capital, sees the need to travel here anymore. No one seems interested in the Triumvirate Meetings either. At the same time, the elder council has been getting quieter, so they've been slowly losing influence. Thus, politics in the city as a whole have become stale. The Triumvirate Meetings have become toothless, mere afternoon teas in which three people without power play word games for marginal reputational gains. More and more, Arguna feels like the leftovers of a bygone era."

Well, this was well-rehearsed.

Clearly, this was an issue Inti had been concerned with for a long time, or she wouldn't have been able to deliver a rant so smooth it would have even impressed Corco.

"I understand that you're frustrated with your position," he began, but was interrupted by Inti.

"No, that's not quite right," she said. "I understand that my work's important. And there's plenty to do on the intelligence side. I'm just thoroughly bored with Arguna's politics. Maybe we can just get rid of the pointless Triumvirate Meetings already. That would already be a big relief for me."

"That is something we can only remedy once we take control of Arguna. In the first place, the Triumvirate Meeting was only ever meant as a stop gap measure, until one of the three kings manages to overpower or outlive the other two and is finally crowned emperor on the silver throne."

In response to Brym's empty promises, Inti just slowly stirred her rapidly cooling tea with an impassive face.

"So, what brings you back here to the city then, merchant boy?" she asked. "You're not here for that takeover you've just promised, are you?"

In the face of the girl's sarcasm, Brym retained his best service smile and shook his head.

"Heavens no. Any takeover attempt is still years away from us."

"How boring," she repeated as she put down her spoon with a tiny clink. "Then what do you need from me this time? Are you trying to sell something again?"

This wasn't the first time Brym had launched a new product in Arguna. After all, the giant metropolis atop the giant silver mine was still by far the richest city in the empire, despite Saniya's best efforts.

Beyond simple wealth, every winter in Arguna was 'banquet season'. Throughout banquet season, the lords from all across Medala would leave their estates to mingle in the capital. From the last harvest of the year until spring, the nobles would strike deals, forge alliances, or assassinate each other, depending on their mood. For this reason, winter was also usually the time when the Noble Assemblies were being held.

Thus, the banquet season was also the perfect time to launch new products in the capital. Once the products caught on and became fashionable, the lavish lords would spend a small fortune on the newest craze, and then they would return home and take said craze with them. Thus, they would doing marketing for Brym all across Medala, without receiving even a single piece of silver for their services. As a result, the 'Wonders of the World' loved to promote new products here first, just like this time.

"Yes, I am once again selling something new, though this time, it might be a bit different from before." As he spoke, Brym took out one of his bonds and pushed it across the table, before he explained further. "This is what I'm trying to sell. They're essentially debt slips in the name of the southern kingdom."

After a short read, Inti seemed to have understood the bond's contents. However, she looked at him with one of her brows raised, clearly unconvinced by the idea.

"And you think people are willing to buy them up here?" she asked. "No one in the central government will accept these as payment, nor would anyone in the two northern kingdoms."

"No, of course they won't." Brym laughed, in anticipation of his clever reveal. "But I'm not here to sell an investment, or a new currency. I'm here to sell favors."

"You lost me." Inti shrugged in an overly dramatic manner. "Please explain in a way that a dumb axe swinger like me can understand."

"I will even explain it well enough for a well-to-do noble lady," Brym corrected.

As the youngest daughter of a general whose family had only been blessed with girls, Inti had been raised as a boy to take over the family affairs in the future. Even her name was a traditional man's name in Medala. her treatment had only changed once Fadelio had been born and proven healthy, though her 'male education' had continued once her brother had gone into exile together with the crown prince. As a result, she had certainly more masculine qualities than most Medalan women, something which always made her feel inadequate.

Once Brym could see his sly compliment produce returns in the form of a smile from across the table, he tried to explain his sales angle for the reconstruction bonds.

"First off, let's establish a baseline of understanding. I'm sure there are a lot of people in this city who would love to owe a favor to the King of the South. Especially with how the last war went, Corco's status should have skyrocketed."

"That much is true."

"So that's what I'm selling: The option to gain the favor of the southern king, and the ability to ask for the southern kingdom's support in times of crisis. After all, Medala has gone through one crisis after another in recent years, and political realities are in constant flux. Surely, many nobles or rich commoners would pay good money for a proper life-saving straw they can grab on to in times of crisis."

"What a smart idea," Inti concluded, much to Brym's delight. "I'm sure many would be tempted with such an offer. Though selling these bonds in the current Arguna might prove difficult. I've said it before, but the city's mood is quite peculiar these days."

"What do you mean, exactly?"

"Well," Inti dragged her words as she leaned forward. "That is something not easily explained with words alone. How about I show you around my city later, and then tell you where your strategy is lacking."

"Of course, Lady Inti. Nothing would please me more than the company of a beautiful noble lady."

Hermit's Notes: Start of a new small-ish arc. I think this is how I'll structure book 7 now, since I didn't look how confused my previous plan of interwoven story lines looked in the outline.

Chapter 439 - Powering Through

"Alright, that's enough of that." Corco clapped loudly to drive away the sullen mood in the room. "Was there anything else left to report?"

Although the king was eager to get work done, Fadelio's head was still down. However, when he heard about the report, he gripped his notes tighter, and began to read. For once, Corco didn't interrupt him and waited until his friend had composed himself once more. Thus, the two just sat in silence, one of them buried in his notes, the other watching. Finally, when Fadelio's head popped up again, his expression was firm. Maybe he had composed himself, or maybe he had put on his mask to fool Corco, but he really didn't have the time or energy to care anymore. All that mattered was that his attendant had returned to work mode once more.

"There are two more matters left to deal with," Fadelio said while holding up his notes, as if their previous argument had never existed. "First off, we've received a first quarterly report from our officials out in the newly occupied territories."

"I'm guessing that there were a few problems, huh?" Corco joked.

None of them had expected the locals in the newly occupied estates to welcome the forces of the central government with open arms. However, Fadelio's frown told the king that they might still have underestimated the problem.

"More than just a few," he said. "In general, many of our officials have been marginalized. They often get no access to any papers, or other documentation at all. Most local officials simply pretend that the documents never existed in the first place. It's an absurd tactic, but the few officials sent to every estate can't just search through every room on the territory on their own until they find the relevant documents. In the end, their hands are tied, so they've achieved precious little. In most estates, our officials still don't know how many taxes have been received there the previous year, how many people and warriors are living in the territory, or much farmland is being worked. Essentially, they don't have any relevant figures, so they cannot refute whatever bogus claim the local officials are making."

"It seems like even without their masters, the local loyalists have taken matters into their own hands," Corco commented. Of course, the local interest groups would try to retain a hold on power, but he had expected their resistance to be weaker. After all, it hadn't been long since their defeat in the war, and the miracle king's prestige was still in full swing.

"Some of our officials have even been attacked by bandits, which they suspect have been working for the local officials."

Fadelio's words completely shattered Corco's illusions of a peaceful takeover.

"Wait, an attack?" the king asked in shock, and jumped out of his seat. Would he have to deal with another rebellion right after he got done crushing the last one? Luckily, Fadelio's next words alleviated Corco's worst concerns.

"Don't worry, no one has died. In fact, no one has even been injured so far," the attendant said. "It seems like they all understand that the army will thoroughly clean up their estate as soon as you give us an excuse to do so. In consequence, they've never harmed or directly disobeyed our people. It's all just been intimidation and passive disobedience so far."

"Okay, so what's the problem then? Just send some people out to solve it. As soon as we have some muscle down there, those officials won't be so brazen anymore, right? Intimidation will no longer work if we have strong forces, at least not unless they want to fight us openly, which would not end well for them. And if we can show enough strength, we can probably win over some ambitious or cowardly locals, who'll work with us and give us access to the data we need to take control."

"Sure, we've been trying exactly that, but it's not that simple," Fadelio replied. His sigh sounded tired. "It takes days until messages from those remote estates reach Saniya, and sending back reinforcements takes weeks more. By the time our men arrive, whatever was an issue at that time has already been resolved. Documents have reappeared, bandits have vanished, etcetera. However, our troops can't just stay there without reason, or we'll receive pressure from the lords, even from our allies. So in the end, the reinforcements have to go back without doing anything. Essentially, our main problem is poor communication and transportation between Saniya and these remote estates. At this rate, we're just wasting resources chasing shadows, and it's not speeding up our takeover any."

"What do you mean, bad communication and transportation? What about the roads we're building? And the beacon towers?" a confused Corco asked. Hadn't they wrestled over the cost of those things not too long ago, just to get these infrastructure projects done as quickly as possible?

"Those are far from finished," Fadelio explained the core issue. "And it seems like the local officials understand the cause of their current advantages, and are not eager to give them up. As a result, progress on infrastructure projects in those estates has been even slower than the progress on anything else."

"So we need more support to improve infrastructure, but we can't send support because of poor infrastructure. What a mess," Corco concluded. "I'm guessing you've already workshopped a plan with the relevant departments?"

"Yes, though I wasn't too sure about the solution, because it would need your express permission," Fadelio prefaced, before he presented his ideas. "I was hoping we could get permission to build and send out a few more radios. This way, our communications problem would be solved right away, without the need to wait for the construction of the beacon towers. Additionally, we could also set up forts for smaller troops further inland, which would speed up our response time even further and tighten our grip on those areas."

"But the forts have to be built just the same as any other piece of infrastructure," Corco argued. He really wasn't happy with this solution at all. "And this is essentially what the beacon towers were meant to do anyways. Inside every tower, we can park a few soldiers who can respond to local emergencies. But if we can't build the towers, we obviously can't build the forts either."

"I was thinking more along the lines of a temporary camp, like during a military campaign," Fadelio explained, which made Corco pause the rant he was about to unleash. Finally, the attendant had come up with a useful proposal.

"In that case, I think it's a good idea. Each of our old military squads already have all the supplies and training they need to set up a camp independently, so just send out a few squads and park them on the edges of those rebellious territories," Corco decided, before he criticized the second half of Fadelio's plan. "But it's still a no on the radios. Those are state secrets, and they give us a decisive edge in intelligence work. I won't risk their discovery over something relatively minor like this. Plus, we couldn't make many more radios even if we wanted to. Our technology is too bad for now, so we can only blast the radio waves across a stupidly broad frequency to make sure they arrive on the other side. Since we can't make separate, stable communications channels yet, we simply can't have that many radios, or it'll all just be constant noise on there."

As usual, talking helped Corco think. Thus, while he thought, he slowly developed a solution to their issues at the same time. Though of course, today's solution didn't require all too much creativity. All he had to do was draw from the wealth of knowledge in his head. Maybe, he thought, it was high time for another large step forward.

"So the radios are a no-go then," Fadelio concluded. Surprisingly, he didn't fight Corco over the decision. Though apparently, he had already guessed his friend's thoughts. "From the way you're looking, you already have a solution, right, Laqhis?"

"You're not wrong," a satisfied Corco shot back. "If we need a way to speed up communication and troop movement, then we just have to invent one. Our city is getting too large to traverse on foot anyways, so this is the perfect time to transform our transportation and jump ahead a few hundred years."

Finally, Fadelio put down his notes again, and stared at Corco. While the king was still feeling self-satisfied about his clean solution, his attendant looked frustrated again, for some reason.

"If we were faster with releasing these kinds of innovations, we wouldn't have to deal with all these problems all the time," he huffed. "I just don't understand why you don't simply reveal this stuff earlier, and only show it off once we're approaching a catastrophe."

"That's because progress is a weapon," Corco patiently explained. Though of course, he really wasn't impatient. After all, he was always happy to start a lecture, and show off in the process. "Every piece of new technology can potentially solve a problem like this our of nowhere. And every time we do that, it will catch our enemies off guard. Not only that, progress can even be used to avert an economic crisis, or to dismantle private monopolies legally. Like, for example..."

The king fixed his posture to sit more comfortably, in preparation of a lengthy tangent. "Imagine if we just introduced a more efficient way to print paper. In that case, only the larger printing shops would be able to afford the new technology, and then they would use that new tech to price out and swallow up the smaller shops. All we wanted was reduce the cost of printing to spur some progress, but we've essentially created a private monopoly in the process. And then that monopoly starts raising prices — because who's gonna stop them? — which essentially undoes all our hard work. However, if we wait until such a monopoly forms on its own, the same technology can remove that company's monopoly status. All their old equipment would suddenly be obsolete, so new competitors would have the chance to enter the market catch up, so long as we give patent authorization to those new companies."

Once his tangent was over, Corco reached for his drink to take a sip. Only half-way through did he realize that his glass had been kidnapped. Thus, the king had to finish up his explanation with a dry throat.

"Plus, it's a smarter long-term strategy if we don't rush ahead of our enemies too much," he continued. "Rather than jump into the atomic age, it's better if we make slow progress, to guarantee that we're always only a step or two ahead. That way, even if they try their best to catch up, we'll retain our technological advantage for a long time. In comparison, if we jump ahead to the end of the tech tree straight away, our enemies will still catch up eventually, and then we won't have any advantage left. Rather, if they just copy everything we put out, they'll catch up much faster if we're way ahead from the start. And from a strategic perspective, it makes no difference how large our technological advantage is. So long as it still exists, the edge we get in international conflicts will basically be the same."

Once Corco was done with his satisfying lecture, he leaned back. Whenever he got to talking, he had a hard time trying to contain himself. Thus, he only noticed now that everything he had said had been a bit pointless.

"But you should know all of that," he thus said towards his attendant. "We've talked about all of these things before. Not that I mind explaining it again."

"I mean, I know," an awkward Fadelio replied. "I'm just frustrated, and venting at all the pointless work I had to do. Just ignore me."

"In that case, let's talk about that final issue on your notes and get our pointless work done for today," Corco joked. "I think we've both earned some time off, if only for an evening."

"Right, let's get this over with," Fadelio said. Finally, the two of them were in agreement over something. "Brym has requested official permission to temporarily leave his positions as finance minister and head of the central bank to travel north. Though he'll probably talk to you directly about this, he still wanted to go through the official channels first."

Although Corco was looking forward to his well-deserved time off, the last issue of the day still aroused his vigilance. What was so important that Brym had to go north in person?

"Is something wrong with the businesses?" he guessed. After all, their 'Wonders of the World' shops in the two northern kingdoms contributed to a considerable portion of their yearly revenue by this point. Maybe Corco's decision to start using the shops for intelligence gathering had been too hasty. However, Fadelio's head shake alleviated the king's worst fears.

"No, it's about the bond matter again," the attendant explained.

"I thought his reconstruction bonds were selling well enough?" Corco wondered. Although he hadn't received the first major report on the issue yet, he had still felt the light-footed attitude coming from the finance people these days. For the first time in a while, it seemed like the kingdom didn't have any money problems.

"Yes, progress has been slow at first, but the aggressive advertising has helped a lot," Fadelio explained. "Many warriors from the destroyed territories have bought bonds out of a sense of duty, and some commoners with too much money and no idea what to do with it have followed as well. All in all, the project has been quite fruitful so far. However, Brym said he had a plan to sell even more bonds up north, which would obviously be a good thing, for various reasons."

"Then let him go."

"You don't wanna check the plan first? What if it's a mess?" Fadelio asked, with one brow raised. However, Corco waved away his attendant's concerns.

"Nah, Brym knows what he's doing," he said, and stood up, ready to leave for an evening with his wife. "Neither of us is even just half the salesman he is. If we meddle, we'd only make things worse. So just let him do it, and give him whatever support he needs. I think the two of us are better off taking a break for once, I feel like we both need it."

Chapter 438 - Conflict

Once Corco's explanation of his new law was over, Sumaci jumped in immediately, to appreciate her teacher's brilliance.

"And since we allow private arms companies, we also don't stifle innovation, and we can allow more private businesses to thrive, which will increase tax revenue. How clever!" his clever wife finished Corco's thought.

"Right? And I only thought of it just now as well!" He grinned as he clinked glasses with his queen again.

"My teacher always told me that modesty is a virtue," Sumaci shot back.

Corco took a quick sip to stall for his clever comeback. Yet before he could deliver, Fadelio once again cleared his throat and ruined the mood, on purpose.

"We will need to judge the effectiveness of this new law, as well as potential edge cases and possible resistance from the businessmen in the city," Fadelio commented. "I shall send this plan to the relevant departments to have it investigated first."

"Yeah, you do that." Corco waved him away, before he lay down onto the couch again, his drink raised above his head. "Is that all then? I really can't stand it anymore."

Meanwhile, Sumaci sat by his head and began to run her fingers through his hair again, real soothing for the soul. Of course, he could never relax properly with the annoying attendant still on his case.

"No, that would not be all." Fadelio raised his voice, before he sighed and calmed down again. "Not to be rude, but this sloppy attitude really isn't helping either of us get through this quicker."

"It's helping me!" Corco argued back. "What about my mental health?"

Again, Fadelio sighed.

"You look fine to me, Laqhis. Just stop with the drinking at least."

"I don't have a problem with alcohol." Corco's smile widened in anticipation of the cheap punchline. "I just have one without it."

Since the king was clearly a lost cause, the attendant finally turned towards the only other adult in the room.

"Queen Sumaci, please. I do not mean to intrude, but we cannot work like this. Surely you must understand that this is unproductive. We should focus on work, without distractions."

As soon as the words were spoken, the smile faded from Corco's face and he sat back up again. With a deep frown, the king stared at his friend who had just kicked his wife out of the room. Although he had done so with polite words, it still upset Corco. However, before he could say anything, Sumaci showed her aforementioned maturity.

"Right, I shall go change, then," she said. "Please continue the discussions without me."

As she spoke, Sumaci stood up, took the drink from Corco's hand and walked towards the door in the back of the room.

"Of course, Queen Sumaci. If you are interested, I shall write notes on the rest of the conversation and send them to your personal maids."

With his clumsy remedy, Fadelio tried to make up for his earlier insulting words. Again, Sumaci showed no sign of anger.

"Please do. It is my kingdom as well, you know?" was all she said.

"I am inconsolable."

Thus, while Sumaci left the room, Fadelio bowed deeply in her direction. Meanwhile, Corco watched it all in silence, still with that ever-deepening frown on his face. This time, the frown hadn't come from the drink his wife had taken away. This time, things were even more serious.

"Well that was an unnecessary conflict," he finally commented when he realized that Fadelio had turned into a statue. "Are you serious, getting Maci out of the room on some bullshit charges?"

"It could not be avoided, since her presence made work more difficult," he insisted with the stiffness of Corco's stolen drink. When had his friend become so inflexible?

"Then that's a problem with me, not with her." An annoyed Corco rubbed his eyes. A conflict between his friend and his wife was the last thing he could use right now. "Don't butt in where you shouldn't, and don't start some backstabbey politics crap in my court. I get enough of that from others. You were the one who was supposed to stand with me and shield me from this shit."

"It won't happen again," Fadelio said, his head now bowed towards Corco.

"Right," the king simply said. This one-sided back-and-forth was getting them nowhere. Rather than continue to lambaste his friend over his failings, Corco decided to come up with a solution. "By the way, when are you gonna find a girl? Even Atau looks like he's about to settle down... while kicking and screaming, but still."

Finally, Fadelio raised his head, though he showed a miserable smile in the process.

"I'm too busy with my duties."

It was unclear if he was miserable because of his duties or because Atau was dating Fadelio's sister. Though of course, Corco didn't care about the details.

"So am I, and I still got married," he argued. "Go find someone, that's an order. It'll balance you out. And maybe, just maybe, it'll get you off my back for just one evening."

Worked like a charm for Atau, at least, the king added in his head.

"All my work is too important to just drop it for romance," Fadelio tried to argue. "And obviously, I can't take a break so long as you are working as well. Who else will tell the great miracle king off whenever he's wrong?"

"And I appreciate that." This time, Corco was serious. Fadelio's nagging had brought him back into line more than once. However, his friend's rigid attitude only made Corco more worried for his future. "I'm just saying. There's more to life than notes. Or are you unwell down there?"

Faced with Corco's grin, Fadelio awkwardly looked to the side. He hadn't even looked this uncomfortable when Corco had accused him of playing with court politics.

"Brym also doesn't have anyone," the stubborn attendant insisted, as he awkwardly dodged the question of his manhood.

"Brym's, like, ten years younger than you," Corco disarmed the ridiculous excuse with one sentence. "Go find a girl. Or a guy, if you prefer. I don't care. Just find someone to distract you from your duties every once in a while. Put that in your notes. Please."

For a few seconds, Fadelio seemed hesitant, before he finally replied: "I'll see what I can do." Though even then, he didn't write anything down. Still, Corco wasn't in the mood to deal with this issue any further than necessary. For that, he was too eager to get done with his work, and finally spend some quality time with his wife.

"Right," he thus concluded their little private session, before he returned to official business. "Now then, what was so damn secretive that you couldn't even let Maci know about it?"

As he spoke, Corco leaned forward, elbows on his legs and hands clasped. However, Fadelio was looking down onto his notes and didn't even notice the silent pressure emanating from the great miracle king.

"Yes. It's a matter concerning the Verdant Isles," he just said in a dry tone. "I just thought-"

"You thought Maci would get too emotional when it's about her home?" a sarcastic Corco completed Fadelio's sentence. Even so, the attendant remained steadfast in his stubbornness.

"Well, it's a message from those who have killed her father and brother after all. I thought it would be better to keep the queen out of it, at least until we have come to a conclusion and can convince her with some arguments."

"Well, fuck me." Exasperated by Fadelio's fake attitude, Corco threw up his hands and fell back into the couch. "In that case, I guess you shouldn't involve me in any more business with the two northern kingdoms, or the elder council, right? You know how emotional I get whenever I deal with my family. The guys who killed my parents, remember?"

"That's different," Fadelio stubbornly insisted, though even he was now stepping from one foot to the other, in a vain attempt to support his weak stance. However, for now, Corco was in no mood to investigate his friend's reasons for the way he had driven Sumaci out of the room. It had been a long day, and there was still work to be done.

"Right," he thus simply repeated. "Let's just get this over with. What do those people want?"

"The Colored Kings have offered us peace," Fadelio simply said.

Now I understand why he didn't want her here.

After all, the conspiracy of the Colored Kings had killed Sumaci's father and brother a bit over a year ago. If Corco was honest, he would have also reacted emotionally if his grandfather Caelestis and Pacha had offered him a hypocritical peace only a year after they had stolen the empire's crown from him. From an objective point of view, he really understood why Fadelio had excluded Sumaci from the discussion. Even so, he still didn't have to like it. As a result, his answer was predictably dry.

"Have they now?" the king just said. Not only was he still unhappy over his wife's treatment, he also wasn't particularly interested in a peace right now. However, Fadelio clearly thought differently.

"What do you mean?" the attendant almost shouted. Finally, he had completely lost his calm facade. "Isn't this a great chance to end the war in the west? Once we pacify the Verdant Isles, we'd finally have peace all around us for a change. At least for a while, we could fully focus on our own internal development. All those armies and ships have been draining our treasury, and much of our time has been wasted on attempts to put out fires beyond our borders. This would finally free us to work on more important things."

As he spoke, Fadelio walked around the room, his passion for peace on full display. However, Corco wasn't swayed.

"Rejected," he simply said. However, the calm response only earned him more agitation from his attendant.

"What, why!?" he screamed back. "Just because of your wife!? You-"

"Stop!" Corco shouted and jumped out of his seat as well. Before the discussion could turn into a full-blown argument, he had to interrupt his friend, who finally stopped moving in response to his king's shout. "Why are you starting unnecessary fights here? And why'd you make this many assumptions over a single word from me? Have I ever acted emotional or selfish when it came to government matters, huh?"

In response to Corco's calm words, Fadelio took a deep breath before he replied: "You have not."

"In that case, please let me explain, will you?"

It appeared as if Corco's calm manner had disarmed the escalating situation somewhat. Finally, Fadelio sat down on a chair across the room. For the first time since he had come in, he wasn't standing like a servant.

"I apologize," Corco's friend finally said after several seconds of silence. This time, he didn't sound hypocritical any longer. Instead, his frown told Corco that his friend was more annoyed with himself than with anyone else.

"You've been doing that a lot today," the king tried to joke. Though when he saw that Fadelio looked even more annoyed at his quip, Corco brushed over his friend's embarrassment and simply moved on to his explanation. "First of all, from Atau's reports it seems like those Colored Kings are as good as done already. Since the Arcavians have retreated from the Verdant Isles, the kings have been on a constant retreat. They've already lost all of their capital cities, and most of the land on their main islands. It's just a matter of time until we take over everything in the west. No matter what they want in return for their surrender, why should we give it to them, when we could just take it all for free?"

"But even weakened, they are still dangerous," Fadelio argued. By now he seemed to have calmed down, and was once more debating based on reason. "They won't attack our fleets, but they'll certainly keep attacking our merchant ships. And while we can take over their capitals, most of their warboats and crews are still on the run. They know the terrain better than anyone, in many cases, even better than Sumaci's people, so it will be almost impossible to completely remove them. As long as they're still entrenched in some hidden coves on one of the hundreds of islands with thousands of bays, the Verduic Sea will remain chaotic."

"So what?" Corto laughed in response to Fadelio's concerns. "The chaos suits us. Sure, we're gonna lose a few merchant ships, but we still have by far the largest military presence in the Verduic Sea. Even more so now that the Arcavians are gone and the central kingdom lost most of its fleet. Which means that so long as there's chaos in the west, we're the only ones with a stable trade route to Chutwa. We can even demand money from foreign merchants for protection, even from merchants from the two northern kingdoms. It's totally legal racketeering, and our related income will be more than enough to cover our military cost in the west."

After Corco's explanation was done, he finally leaned back again. By now, he had also recovered from the earlier bad mood. No matter how mad he got, his long lectures were always the best therapy, even beating out the drinks.

"As you see, I was never emotional when I made my decision, unlike you," the king concluded.

"I need to apologize once more," Fadelio simply said. However, his repeated apologies only made Corco mad again. As soon as his friend had calmed down, his sincerity had gone out the window and his mask had reappeared. Was this sort of thing really inevitable now that they were involved in politics?

"Right," Corco simply said. For a few moments, he weighed whether or not he should simply ignore the incident for now, until he himself was a bit calmer. In the end, however, he still felt obligated to say something, in an attempt to remedy the mess before him. "You know I'll tell everything that's happened here to Maci, right? I mean word for word. And I guarantee you she'll make the same decision as I have, not because of revenge, but because it's the right thing to do. She's not a weak person, nor an emotional one. So whatever problem you have with her, you best work it out somehow. I won't stand for any Game of Thrones type shit in my castle."

Although he wouldn't have understood the last reference, Fadelio's head was still down. Silently, he keep staring at some spot between his feet. Maybe he was reflecting on his actions, Corco thought. However, he couldn't wait until the minister had figured out his private issues, could he? Rather, there was as much of a chance that he was just quietly brooding over there in the corner. Thus, the king was once more forced to move on, with the issue only half resolved.

Sorry about the chapter delays.

Hey, Hermit here.

Due to various reasons (mostly time-related), I failed to unlock and post chapters on time yesterday. I made up for it today, and will unlock/ post more tomorrow.

Cheers, S.H.

Chapter 437 - A King's Evening

"Urgh, I am so done with this shit."

In a childish gesture of defiance, King Corcopaca Titu Pluritac threw off his long cloak as soon as he entered his private quarters, before he proceeded to throw himself face-first onto the first couch he could find.

"For today we are, yes," Fadelio said, as always behind him, like a malicious spirit of work and decorum haunting every waking hour of Corco's life. At the very least, he didn't have to remind him of tomorrow's obligations this very moment, did he?

"No need, I will handle it," he heard his angel wife say. Though he didn't know what she was talking about, what with his face down on the couch, she was probably addressing Fadelio, rather than himself. At least that was what he could tell from her distant, polite tone. Anyways, he would not dwell on her words. Rather, he was more interested in complaining some more. Otherwise, his heart would shatter from all the bottled-up rage.

"I can't believe I have to do this shit again tomorrow," he said as he thrashed his legs a little. "I would've never exiled those lords from their territories if I knew I'd have to spend every day at parties with them."

"But... that was the plan, wasn't it?" Fadelio sounded confused. "Get all the lords to Saniya, and organize one party after another, to keep them here. Since they are all trying to impress you and each other — in order to reduce their sentences and rebuild their political standing — they will have no choice but to focus on these parties. This way, they stay away from their territories and can no longer control them, which gives us the chance to move in and slowly replace their rule. Wasn't that the idea?"

It was textbook Louis XIV. On top of the defeated lords who came to the parties in hopes of a pardon, other nobles also came in order to gain economic benefits. Only last week, the kingdom's great manufactory auction had been held. However, even before the start of the auction, several supporting industries which weren't critical to the kingdom's stability had been sold off to several of the lords who had supported Corco during the war.

These lords would take these businesses back to their territories and rebuild them there. Not only would this reward his allies, it would also relieve Saniya's tense workforce situation. Even more, such a move would strengthen the economic ties between the different territories of the southern kingdom, especially since most of the transferred industries were parts industries, like a lye manufactory. Thus, the local estates would become more reliant Saniya, with reduced ability to organize further rebellions.

Back when he had planned it all, Corco had felt really clever. He would just spend his days drinking and dancing, while the power of the kingdom would just naturally fall into his hands. He even got a historical reference out of it. By now however, he wasn't so enamored with the plan any more.

"Well, it was a shit idea," he surmised succinctly. "I don't wanna do it anymore."

As he spoke, he felt careful hands brush through his hair and take off his crown. When the weary Corco finally sat up again, he saw his darling wife stand in front of him, holding his crown in one hand and his neatly folded cloak slung over her arm. Meanwhile, her other hand was busy reorganizing his messy hair.

"Teacher, do you want something to drink?" she finally asked, to complete the tender moment. For Corco, the words were like rain in the desert.

"Yes. Please," he sighed. "Save my weary soul, my heart."

"You only call me your 'heart' when I bring you alcohol." Sumaci chuckled and walked towards the inner room, where the two of them had set up a small, private bar.

"I was talking to the brandy," Corco quipped back.

Finally, the mood was getting better and the king could feel his tensed shoulder muscles relax. However, before his wife could continue their banter, the rude Fadelio chimed in. An ill-timed throat-clear stole all the attention.

"Oh, you were still here?" Corco packed as much sarcasm into his voice as the sound waves could carry. "Didn't you see we're having a moment here?"

However, in the face of the king's reasonable accusations, the very much unreasonable attendant simply stiffened his chest.

"Yes, well, there's still a few things left to report," he insisted.

"See, this is why I hate this job." Corco turned towards Sumaci, just in time to see her return with two glasses filled with ice and an amber-colored liquid.

"Let's just listen to the report," his wife helped out the servant. At the same time, she sat down next to Corco and handed him a glass. "The sooner we get this over with, the sooner we'll have some alone time."

Once she was finished enticing her husband, the two clinked glasses. At the thought of alone time, Corco immediately perked up.

"Right, my motivation's maxed out." he shouted, and took a deep swig from the glass. The cold drink slid down his throat and warmed up his core. Finally, he felt at ease again, so he turned towards Fadelio, once more ready to tackle his country's endless problems. "Go ahead."

"There has been an issue with the worker cooperative project."

Immediately, Fadelio led with the bad news.

"What, has another manufactory changed its mind?"

Seconds into the reports, and Corco's mood was already ruined again.

In his eagerness to create as many worker cooperatives as possible, the king had taken great care. Usually, he would no longer be involved in the details of law-making. This time however, he had made an exception. After all, a successful start to the cooperative project would be crucial. If their project could succeed and a significant portion of Medala's private businesses could be transformed, it would result in fundamental changes to society, with especially great benefits to the country's long-term stability.

To facilitate as much, Corco had done a lot of preparations. Long before he had explained the concept of worker cooperatives to anyone, he had already organized the villages of his territory in the same manner.

For that purpose, he had made use of his hold over high-quality iron tools and fertilizer. Both had been given out to villages as a whole, rather than to individual farming households. At the same time, the local children had all been sent to school and thus could no longer help with the harvest. As a result, the villagers had been forced to work their fields together, and the grain tax they paid to the crown would also be calculated on a village-by-village basis.

Thus, the new worker cooperative laws had only formalized this already existing relationship in the rural areas. Thus, the new law had focused on incentives to transform his old, non-performing manufactories into cooperatives, as well as offering cheap loans to found new ones.

However, progress in the city had been slow so far. Most efforts to transform his old businesses had failed for various reasons. The workers were skeptical of the new methods, the craftsmen and administrators would often want to take over the manufactories by themselves, and then there were rich outsiders eager to take the thriving business as well. Even his own officials hadn't done a proper job at promoting the new legislation. Apparently, some already punished idiots in the finance department had decided that the immediate gains from selling the businesses outright outweighed the long-term benefits from establishing a cooperative, and had thus actively dragged their feet on the promotion.

All in all, the project had been one huge disappointment so far. However, Fadelio's next words completely subverted Corco's expectations.

"No, this time, no one is backing out of the cooperative project," Fadelio said. "Rather, someone founded a new one. forty-nine workers in total."

"Wait, seriously!?" In glee, Corco jumped a small jump on his couch. He was so excited that he even almost spilled some of his drink before he calmed down, almost. "That's the second best news I've heard all day."

"The best is the alcohol," Sumaci explained towards Fadelio, a satisfied smile on her face. However, the minister's awkward look told Corco that the two of them had been happy too early. With the inevitability of an oncoming avalanche, Fadelio crushed the mood.

"Well, the problem is that they've founded an arms company," he said.

"Well... fuck me." Once his mood had been predictably crushed, Corco thought for a second. Maybe things weren't quite as bad as he thought. "What are they making, exactly?"

"A new type of bayonet that fits around the barrel, rather than inside it."

"Oh, they've invented ring bayonets, nice," Corco commented. Although they were making weapons, at least they weren't building guns, nor anything with particularly high technical content. For now, this still wasn't the worst case scenario.

"Teacher, if you already knew these existed, why not invent them yourself?" Sumaci asked. She was one of the few people who knew about Corco's vast treasure vault of knowledge, and was thus predictably confused.

"Well, what happens if I just invent everything by myself?" the king thus began one of his world-famous rants. "I'll be falsely revered as some kind of genius, right? But I'm not a great person, I just know more stuff than most. That's not only awkward for me, but also dangerous for the long-term future of the country. What would the future of this country look like if I just invented everything? The people would have a god-king for a couple years, and then once I die, everything would stagnate, since I never taught anyone how to fish, so to speak. Instead, it's much healthier for our country if I just leave most of the inventing to others. And it's a lot less work for me, too, which is always a plus." For a few awkward seconds, he resisted the critical look of his student, before he admitted: "Also, I forgot about the ring bayonets until now. I can't think of everything, can I?"

"Well, this particular invention presents us with a problem." Fadelio once again wedged his way into the private conversation.

"They're an essential business," Sumaci guessed in response. "But just the bayonets don't seem all too bad. They won't be able to strong-arm the army over bayonet supplies, will they?"

Of course, Sumaci thought the same as her teacher. However, Fadelio proved to be a stickler for the rules, as always.

"Still, it is national policy to prevent the establishment of private essential businesses as much as possible. Who knows what sort of weapon this company will be working on once their bayonets are a success and they have money to spend? They have called themselves 'Arms Company', after all."

"So just nationalize it..." Sumaci began, before she trailed off and corrected herself. "It's not that easy, is it? I guess it would be bad for our cooperative project if we shut down its first major success immediately."

After a few seconds of thought, Corco's favorite student predictably came to the right conclusion. However, her thoughts hadn't gone quite far enough.

"Not only that, they also haven't done anything wrong," the king had to add. "They've completely played by the rules. Ultimately, it's not their fault that private arms companies are still legal in out country. That's a law we should have come up with before, but now it's too late. Now that they've been established, just nationalizing them — or shutting them down by force — sets a bad legal precedent. It'll also eat up a lot of our goodwill with the public."

While he slowly swirled his drink around in the glass, Corco weighed the options in his mind. Bit by bit, a workable solution to their newest issue formed in his brain. Meanwhile, his two students knew their teacher well, so they both remained quiet until the king continued.

"And it's not like private arms companies don't have any advantages either," he finally said with a victorious smile on his face. "They're not that great at truly innovating anything, since innovation is risky, and squeezing the maximum benefit from existing technologies is more profitable. But for the same reason, they're great at marginal improvements and small optimizations. On a battlefield, these optimizations are often the difference between victory and defeat. So keeping some of these companies around and having them compete with each other to increase efficiency and reduce cost isn't the worst idea."

"So they just get to keep making weapons?" Fadelio asked in a tone which already betrayed his opinion completely. Though of course, his stiff demeanor alone was already proof enough that he was a stickler for the rules.

At least you could sit down in private, Corco thought, before he stopped swirling his drink and replied.

"Sure, why not? But how about we restrict them a little, so they don't form bad habits, huh? We'll simply introduce a new law. Whenever the country is in a state of war, the government has the right to temporarily take over production facilities of military goods. The company runs as usual, just with military supervision, and the owners only get paid production cost. Of course, the owners still get compensated for their effort once the war is over. Once we properly execute such a law, arms dealers would have no incentive to want a war, since they would earn more in peace times through contracts with the army and such. So they won't try to influence anyone in the government to provoke war, which would be a real concern with private arms companies otherwise. At the same time, the country can't be blackmailed during wartime either, and can still produce cheap weapons when they're needed the most."

Chapter 436 - Culmination of Plans (Part 4)

While Alcer watched Sawo and Rimaq trot away in defeat, Kyunya stepped up next to him.

"Good. That's what they deserve," he said, still in a huff. Yet when Alcer turned to look at him, he finally saw a relieved smile on the young craftsman's face. Even his stubble had been shaved off for today's occasion. For the first time since Alcer had met him, Kyunya looked happy. Though before he could say anything in response, Mallku squeezed between them and put his arms around their shoulders.

"Yeah, this has been a blast. Let's do it again sometime."

Of course, Alcer could understand Kyunya's relief. After all, he had suffered greatly at the hands of Rimaq and Sawo, and hitting them where it hurt the most — their wallets and their pride — surely must have relieved much of his frustrations. In comparison, he thought that Mallku's reaction was too thoughtless and rude, as usual.

"Honestly, I don't feel all too happy about this," Alcer said, and threw off Mallku's arm, before he stared out the open door of the theater's foyer. As Alcer looked at the dejected backs of his opponents as they walked away in defeat, a frown formed on his face. Seeing others distressed because of his decisions didn't feel good, no matter how righteous his new coworkers felt.

"Still, the matter's over, no matter what I think about it," he concluded his own thoughts. "At least justice was served... I think."

Again, Alcer sank into contemplation. His thoughts spun in circles, around the people he had hurt with his actions. However, before his self-guilt could build too much, Kyunya dissipated the storm clouds in his mind.

"That's right. And now, we finally get to show off our new company. No more hiding. From today on, we are a cooperative."

Right, I can't just look at the past.

As he thought about their future, Alcer realized that he would have too many responsibilities from now on. He couldn't waste all his thoughts on his competitors, could he? Just as he was about to reply, his thoughts were interrupted yet again.

"Hey, do you boys still need me?" Killari shouted over from the entrance. He was still holding the baton in his hand, slowly twirling it around.

He really likes that thing, huh?

"No, thank you," Alcer replied. "As always, your support has been greatly appreciated, friend. And as always, I owe you another favor."

In keeping with their usual routine, Alcer's frank and generous words were dismissed with a mean harrumph.

"Just remember in the future that I'm not your private guard," Killari said. "Although I could somehow explain this since there was an ongoing investigation into Rimaq, I was really skirting the limits of my job this time. And unlike you, I like my work. So I'm not doing something like this again."

"Of course not. Don't worry, I won't involve you again," Alcer tried to comfort his friend. Truly, now that he was an established presence in the city, he wouldn't need Killari's help for everything anymore. In fact, as his influence grew, he was sure that he could repay the favors his owed in due time. Clearly, Killari saw it the same, since he didn't belabor the point.

"Right," he just said, before he peeked over to Kyunya and Mallku. For a few, uncomfortable seconds, he held them in his police stare. Only when the tension between them was thick enough to cut even with a blunt baton did he continue. "Just be careful in the future. You're too good-natured, and there's always plenty of people who want to take advantage of you."

Thus, Killari turned around and exited the theater as well. However, his words had left behind a bad aftertaste.

"What's his problem?" Mallku complained, but Alcer wouldn't deal with it, not right now. Rather than focus on suspicions between his friends which didn't matter, he was more eager to look ahead to the future. Kyunya was right: It was finally time to stop hiding their achievements.

"Let's just go meet your new co-workers," he thus said. "They've waited long enough."

Before Mallki could complain, Alcer put his arm around the blacksmith's shoulder and guided both him and Kyunya out of the building, where their future was already waiting for them.

__________________________

Seven days earlier, inside Saniya's Veterans' Affairs Office

"I want to make things right. Not only for Kyunya, but for everyone. Just you wait. Maybe soon, your veteran's office will have a whole lot of work all at once," Alcer concluded his little speech.

"In that case, I'll be looking forward to that," Berrat said with a smile, and picked up some document on his table, to get on with his work, or to signal that the conversation was over. However, Alcer wasn't quite done yet.

"Yeah, so let's finally talk about my business," he said. In response, Berrat looked back up. He held his confused stare for a few seconds before he found his words again.

"Wait, I thought you didn't come for your business," he said.

"I lied." Alcer allowed himself a laugh, but when he saw a frown form on Berrat's face, he quickly disarmed the official's rising anger. "Well, not really lied, so much as I wasn't quite sure yet."

"About what?" Berrat asked, for now more curious than angry.

"I wanted to start my business together with Kyunya. You know, the guy I asked you about?"

"So your little speech about helping him was a lie?" Berrat asked as he crossed his arms.

"Well, no. I really do want to help him. Still, it's true that I also got something out of the information. But Kyunya will benefit more than me. Now that you've confirmed his character, I can confidently work with him."

"So he should thank you." Now Berrat had a sneer on his face. This wasn't going well.

"Look, I did nothing to be ashamed of. I didn't lie, and everything I'm doing will be only help Kyunya. The man lost his work, lost his reputation and he spends all his days drinking. I'm offering him a second chance. Maybe I wasn't totally upfront with you at first, for that, I apologize. But I needed an honest opinion, without bias. That's all. Please believe me."

After a few more seconds, Berrat's crossed arms returned to his sides.

"Very well," he said, though now his tone was a lot more formal than before. "So what is it the veterans' office can do for you?"

"I want to talk about loans."

"Loans? For that, you should talk to a bank. We don't have enough money to play around with you." Once more, Berrat looked unhappy. "And we are not miracle workers. We cannot solve every problem you have in life. I have already helped you more than any other veteran."

"But Kyunya told me I should go here," Alcer still insisted, and revealed his trump card, though he didn't know if it would help. "I was planning on starting a worker cooperative, if that changes anything."

"A..." For a second, Berrat stared and processed again, before his eyes opened up in shock. "Wait one second!"

Thus, the official dove down below his desk and started to rummage through the drawers by his feet. Finally, after a minute of searching, Berrat pulled out a piece of paper.

"I apologize for my earlier anger, sir. It has been a stressful day," he said, as his eyes flew over the paper's contents. All of a sudden, his attitude was completely different to before. "You really want to start a worker cooperative?"

"Is it that unusual?" Alcer asked, confused by the strong reaction.

"I'd say," Berrat said, while continuing to read the paper. "You're the first to come here with that kind of request. I heard the crown really cares about the worker cooperative project, but it isn't going all too well. The villages in the countryside have been mostly converted already, since they already had a similar structure ever since the last land reform, but the guys in the city just don't care. Or rather, it seems like no one understand how the new system works, really."

"Neither do I, but that's why I'm here. Can you help me?"

Again, Berrat looked frustrated. Maybe he had been so moody with him because he had been stressed by difficult requests from up high. Thus, Alcer tried to be informal in his request. Yet, again, the reaction was stronger than he had expected.

"Of course." Berrat beamed. "This will be good for me as well. Getting the first self-founded cooperative will be a great achievement for me. So go ahead and confide in me. What do you need, exactly?"

"Well... how do I start?" Alcer asked as he scratched his head. "I know very little. So how about you first explain to me how the loan business works for these things?"

"For a loan for the cooperative project, you'd need to talk to the central bank people directly," Berrat read off the paper, before he looked up to present an enthusiastic smile. "Don't worry, I'll write you a referral, so no one will make trouble for you over this matter. However, since it will just be you, this is not really a veterans' issue. This way, I cannot do much more than inform you on some issues that need your attention."

"Well, I was planning to start this cooperative together with other veterans. Would that help?" Although Alcer wasn't sure it would, the official jumped out of his seat as if he had been bitten by a snake.

"Divines above, you're like a friendly spirit, sent to solve my problems," Berrat shouted into the bewildered Alcer's face. Only when he got no reaction for a while did he clear his throat and sit back down again. Although he had somewhat calmed down, the smile was still all over his face. "Since this is a veterans' issue now, I can get you some additional funding, probably. And there might be long-term tax benefits too, if I can help it." Thus, Berrat sat and thought for a second, before he mumbled to himself: "I'll have to do a lot of paperwork."

After this final comment, he once more disappeared beneath his desk. However, after just one second, his head popped back up.

"Say, you're not interested in reconstruction bonds, are you?" he suddenly asked.

"What?" Alcer replied to the nonsense question in the most coherent way he could. At least Berrat explained himself after the fact.

"Another government order." The official sighed, back to his frustrated self from before. Maybe this official Berrat was just quick to change his mood, Alcer thought. "The basic idea is as follows: You buy a piece of paper, printed with the kingdom's seal and the amount you paid for it. You can use it in the kingdom as legal tender, same as our bank notes or Sila coins. However, if you hold the paper for a few years, you can exchange it with the central bank for a tidy profit. Although I am unsure how it will work in detail, the money will supposedly be used to rebuild the cities which were destroyed during the war. Thus, it is called a reconstruction bond."

"Sorry," Alcer said. "Before I get that loan, I barely have enough money to feed myself."

Although this reconstruction was a cause close to Alcer's heart, all he could do was feel bad about his own inability to help people again. Quietly, he determined that he would buy some of these bonds once he had money on hand, if only to make himself feel better.

"Of course, I apologize. I was just excited because you managed to solve all my other issues as well," Berrat explained, with his head down. However, he once again perked up right away to rant about his problems. At least he was working on Alcer's papers again as he ranted. "You see, every department has been tasked by the finance people with selling a certain number of these things. But most people who come to this office come here because they need money in the first place, so what are we supposed to do?"

"That must be tough," Alcer replied mechanically. Luckily, Berrat seemed to pick up on his disinterest and didn't speak up again until he was done with his work.

"Here's your referral for the central bank," he finally said, and handed him a stamped piece of paper.

"Thank you." Alcer stored it in the depth of his clothes where he couldn't lose it. Only then did he remember that he still had another request to ask of Berrat. Although he had already received a lot of help today, his plan would be impossible without this step, so he had to ask: "By the way, I'd prefer if you could keep this whole matter about me founding a cooperative hush-hush for now."

"What do you mean?"

Immediately, Berrat's anger had returned.

"Don't worry, I won't take away your achievement," Alcer tried to alleviate the official's concerns. "Just, I still need to take care of some things. If I want those to go smoothly, I can't have people knowing that I'm founding a cooperative. It won't be for long either. A week at most. After that, you're free to tell as many people as you want."

As quickly as it had come, Berrat's anger disappeared again.

"That's fine then," he replied as if he had never really cared that much in the first place. "Do you need any help with those 'things' of yours?"

"No, I can handle it myself."

"Alright." Again, Berrat worked through his papers, before he seemed to spot something.

"By the way, how many people will your company have?" he looked up again and asked. In response, Alcer thought for a while, since he himself wasn't too sure. The answer would be at least four, himself included. However, he wanted to clear something up first.

"I heard from Kyunya that you get more money if you have more people when you start your cooperative. Is that true?" he finally asked. If they could get more money, they could support more people. This way, his plan would become a lot more extensive, and potentially a lot more successful. Luckily, Berrat replied in the affirmative.

"Your friend is well informed," he said. "Though you'd have to find reliable workers first."

"That won't be a problem. At least in that regard, I already have found several avenues for recruitment."

__________________________

The following day, Alcer was back in his home. This day, he would have to travel around a lot, to recruit workers, or rather, to collect his future partners.

"Hey Kichka," he greeted his temporary roommate.

"What is it, captain?"

"You know any other guys like you?" Only when he saw Kichka's empty stare did he realize that he had to specify a bit. "I mean veterans who have been struggling after the war, and who might be looking for work?"

"Sure, there's plenty of those down at the docks."

"Great. In that case, could you get some of them together? I'd prefer people we can trust, who have a good character, and who don't mind hard work. If they're craftsmen it would be even better, but the last one is not necessary."

"Understood, captain. I can get you at least ten people together by tomorrow. But what is this all for?"

"Those will be our new coworkers."

__________________________

"Hey chief! Looks like you were right about the rain."

"Good morning, neighborhood hero! How goes your patent business?"

"In regards to that, I actually have a favor to ask of you. Do you know any veterans from the neighborhood who might want to work with me?"

"You mean, as workers in your manufactory?"

"No, I mean as partners."

__________________________

"Hey, Mallku."

"Yepp, boss?"

"If you still know guys from the steel mill who are interested in our worker cooperative, you should call them over now."

"Are we starting? That can't be! How did that drunkard convince you?"

However, an elated Alcer ignored the metalworker's nonsense. Today wasn't a day to fight, it was a day to celebrate.

"The company will be founded tomorrow."

__________________________

Back at his home, Alcer had been waiting for the workers others were recruiting for him, to weed out the bad and keep the good. Yet when he opened the door, he was shocked to see not Mallku, Kichka, or the chief, but the weather-beaten face of an old woman. Anka was really the last person he wanted to see right now.

"I hear you've been recruiting people to work in your new workshop?" she shot before Alcer could say anything.

"Ah, yes, that's right, Aunt Anka," a bewildered Alcer replied. "Did you talk to the chief?"

Rather than reply to his inquiry, the old woman took a menacing step forward.

"If you are hiring people, then why not take my niece in as well?"

"Aunt Anka, I'm only recruiting veterans."

"So you're saying my girl isn't good enough for that workshop of yours? You've invited Hamka from next door, didn't you? What makes him so special? That guy eats his own boogers. Or are you now a big shot who forgets his roots? Remember, when you were away to fight that war of yours, who took care of your house? Who always sneaked you food when you didn't have enough back then?"

In response to Anka's guilt trip as well as her bony finger's persistent taps against his chest, Alcer could only give in.

"Fine," he said, after an exasperated sigh. "What can your niece do?"

"Oh, she can do anything," the old woman beamed. "She's really smart, and a fast learner. Just give her a chance."

"Fine, in that case, I'll see what I can do."

__________________________

The following morning, on the last day of spring in the seventh year of Strife, forty-seven veterans, a drunkard, and the neighborhood shrew's niece quietly came to the Central Bank of Medala, where — without anyone's knowledge — they went on to found the 'Veteran Arms Company'. Only three days later — a day after the government's great manufactory auction — was this knowledge made public and caused a sensation. Though only two people were truly troubled by this new company's founding: One lonely banker, and the highest ruler of the kingdom.

Hermit's Notes: The end of the mini arc. I hope the story came together in the end and I didn't leave any obvious holes. Though I think it turned out well.

Chapter 435 - Culmination of Plans (Part 3)

After Killari had detained Sawo and Rimaq, Alcer's plan was finally complete. Though he had succeeded, he didn't derive any joy from their misery. When he had imagined this scene, he had thought that he would be happy to see these villains brought to justice. Now however, as he watched the powerful warrior stand there helplessly, with the old craftsman right behind him, his clothes dirty and crumpled from repeated falls, he only felt guilty.

Though in the end, he had to remind himself that he hadn't done this for his own satisfaction, or for revenge. Rather, he had done it for a brighter future not only for himself, but also for all his future colleagues.

Thus, rather than focus on the misery of the two villains, Alcer tried hard to think back to the ploy he had executed over the past week, as well as the steps he would need to take in order to complete his masterpiece which would help so many.

__________________________

Six days ago, Saniya Army Barracks, logistics unit, procurement division

"I need your help."

As soon as Alcer entered the office, he opened with a request. Although his actions were rude, the man behind the desk was an old acquaintance, so he didn't have to be too polite.

"And hello to you as well," Qhatuq replied.

The two of them had met during the war, when both of them had been special officers. After the war, both had retired, though only Qhatuq had lost his leg on top of his job. Luckily, the former scout knew how to read and do calculations, so he had scored a job with the procurement division of the army, responsible for the initial approval of military purchases.

The first time Alcer had come here, he had used his connection with Qhatuq to get a foot in the door and get his invention seen. Back then, it had been a mutually beneficial deal. Alcer would get his business started, and Qhatuq would score a big purchase of a strong product right after he had begun his work here. This time, Alcer's purpose was slightly different. This time, he would have to owe a favor.

"So what can I do for you?" Qhatuq asked after Alcer had taken a seat. "Is it about the ring bayonets we've talked about before?"

"That's right," Alcer began, but before he could say anything else, he was interrupted by Qhatuq's whining.

"Like I said, your prototype looked good, but we just can't give a sales contract to someone who doesn't even have a manufactory yet. If you can't guarantee production, then you won't get an order. That's how it is. I'm really busy these days, so please don't bother me unless it's something important. If you have anything more concrete for me, I can help you get it in front of the right eyes. But that's all I can do for now."

However, Alcer wasn't deterred by the long-winded complaint.

"Come on, don't be like that," he said. "I'm not even asking for a real sales contract here. All I want is a document to show that the military wants to buy my bayonets, a letter of intent, if you will. I even have a deal with the veteran's office in place already, they'll provide me with a loan as soon as I'm ready, guaranteed. If they can believe in my project, then so can you, right?"

As he spoke, Alcer pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to the office clerk.

"The veteran's officer? Really?" Although he sounded skeptical, Qhatuq still checked the paper for a few seconds, before he looked back up at Alcer. "Still, I can't do it. I only just got this job a month ago. You can't expect me to just risk my future over a small favor, right?"

Although he hesitated for a few seconds, in the end, Qhatuq still declined Alcer's request again. However, not all hope was lost. From the last sentence, Alcer didn't read any anger in Qhatuq's voice. Instead, he felt like the one-legged veteran just wanted some guarantees.

"It's not that dramatic, surely," Alcer thus tried again. "You wouldn't be doing anything of note anyways, would you? Any army man who's seen the ring bayonet agrees that they're a brilliant idea. You know as well as me that this thing will be approved as soon as I can guarantee production. And now you've even seen that the veteran's office has approved my loan application. I have the idea, I have the workers, and I have the money. All I need is some time, and I'll have this purchase approved anyways, guaranteed. In the end, you'd just be pushing the approval ahead a little. I don't even need full approval from you. Like I said, just give me a temporary paper and stamp it with something official looking."

Again, there was silence, until Qhatuq scratched his temple and gave up.

"And who's gonna see this?" he asked for one final guarantee.

"Apart from myself, I'll just show it to one self-righteous banker, and then I'll burn it right away. I swear on my good name."

"Okay, fine. I don't even want to know what you're planning to do with this thing. Sounds like I'd be better off not involve," Qhatuq finally said, as he handed the veteran office's paper back to Alcer. "But you have to do something for me in return."

Finally, Alcer heard the words he had been wanting to hear. If he could provide help to Qhatuq in turn, there was no chance he would snitch on him early, even if he found out about Alcer's plan.

"So long as it's in my power," the former sharpshooter replied gladly.

"Oh, it's in your power alright," he said, as he began to write an official looking note on a loose piece of paper. "Since you're about to start your business, you'd have to build a workshop, right? Or even a manufactory, considering the size of the prospective purchase order. A friend of mine is an architect who's been looking for work recently. You should consider him."

"No problem," Alcer agreed easily, before he thought for a little and qualified his words. "He's got the job, as long as he's good enough."

"Oh, in that regard, you don't have to worry. He's got more experience with big projects than just about anyone I've ever met. You'll be shocked."

Although Alcer didn't like Qhatuq's grin, in the end, he still got what he had wanted: A way to cheat a banker. Now, he only needed to collect one more weapon, and he would be able to fight back against the all-mighty Tasa Bank.

__________________________

Several hours later, inside the ale house 'The Tipsy Tradesmen'

By now, Alcer only had to collect a single piece to complete his puzzle. Luckily, he knew exactly where to find it.

"Hey, friend, long time no see," he shouted at the unemployed craftsman sitting in the corner.

"You're back," Kyunya dryly stated, before he seemed to realize what Alcer's appearance meant. Full of enthusiasm he jumped up and added: "You're here for the worker cooperative!"

"Yeah, in the end I thought: 'What would I need all that money for anyways'. So let's do it."

As Alcer spoke, he sat down on the corner table to discuss the details with Kyunya. However, his new partner jumped away instead.

"Yes!" he shouted out aloud, before he caught himself and cautiously looked around. Although no one in the almost empty room seemed to care, he still offered a sheepish grin to the barman and sat down again. "I apologize," he finally said. "This is the first good news I have received in a month."

"Well, don't be too happy too quickly. It gets much better," at the thought of his own clever strategy, Alcer had to grin. Maybe he was actually better suited for the army than he had thought. Such strategy surely wasn't inferior to those of the generals, right? "I have a plan to get our manufactory started on the front foot, with a large sum of initial capital to spend. And as an aside, I'll help you get one over on those people who think they own us all. What do you think?"

"I'm in," Kyunya agreed without hesitation, even though he knew none of the details. Maybe he had guessed the important parts, or maybe he was just desperate, but all that mattered was that he was on board.

"In that case, I'll need your help first." As Alcer explained, he lowered his voice, even though the ale house was almost empty. "How much dirt do you have on your old master and his business? And how badly can you ruin the reputation of both within a week?"

Finally, for the first time since he had met him, Alcer saw Kyunya laugh, freely and heartily, as if his previous worries had never existed.

"You must be kidding me, boss," he said, already with a new address for Alcer. "Believe me, if there's one thing I have experience with, it's my master's dirty laundry."

__________________________

Five days ahead of the manufactory auction, Tasa Bank.

"I also want a bigger loan."

In response to Alcer's suicidal proposal, the banker only replied: "Of course."

As Alcer sat in front of Sawo and listened to his lies, his mood dropped with every word the banker said. They had never met, not once. Even more, he was considered a war hero by most. How could this banker try this hard to screw over a fellow man?

As soon as the lies had started, Alcer could guess what this guy really wanted. At the latest, when he had so readily agreed to an increase in the loan amount without offering better terms.

This guy wasn't interested in helping him start his business. He wasn't even interested in his money. Ultimately, he only cared about control, control over others. In this regard, it seemed like Sawo was just like that famed Master Rimaq. Truly, two familiar souls had found each other.

At least this way, Alcer didn't have to feel bad for involving Sawo in his plan. Although he had been hesitant at first since the innocent Tasa Bank would be collateral damage if he attacked Rimaq, such feelings had now disappeared.

The more of Sawo's oil-coated phrases he heard, the more convinced he was that Kyunya had been right: The Tasa Bank really was directly involved in Rimaq's dirty tricks. From what he had seen today, it appeared as if this Sawo deserved his punishment just as much as Rimaq did.

__________________________

Faced with the sudden appearance of Saniya's police, even a warrior like Sawo would be overwhelmed.

"What is happening here?" he finally asked after several seconds of stunned silence. Meanwhile, Rimaq still looked as confused as a soldier after weeks of bombardment in the trenches.

Before Alcer could say anything, Mallku jumped the queue once more.

"It's nothing much, really," he said, while checking his nails as if he truly didn't care. "I just want to see what sort of dirty things you've been doing in that manufactory of yours. I'll look forward to seeing you hang on the gallows."

Finally, Alcer himself had heard enough.

"Mallku!" He shut up the blacksmith before he could say anything even more outrageous. "That's enough out of you. No need to make life-and-death enemies."

"Fine. I'm sorry, boss."

Although Mallku's tone was insincere, he would probably shut up, at least for now. With the room pacified, Alcer focused on Sawo again.

"But you should understand that he's not joking," he said while pointing at Mallku. "You know what will happen once the police finds evidence of embezzlement."

"In that case, I wish you good fortune in your search."

By now, the banker's mask had returned. With an eerie calm, he stared at the four of them one by one and pretended strength. Although Mallku flinched back a little, Sawo's grandstanding couldn't look any more fake to Alcer, and he wasn't the only one.

"There is no need to wish us anything," Kyunya said, still in a cold tone. "Never forget: I have handled Rimaq's dirty business for years. I know better than anyone where his dirty secrets are hidden. Secret stashes, which workers know what, everything. I can tell the police exactly where to look and which questions to ask to whom. In fact, I've hidden away several pieces of crucial evidence before. Even your precious customer would know nothing about their whereabouts."

"Then you must be Kyunya," Sawo said, as he turned towards the unemployed craftsman. By now, his calm had once again disappeared, and the anger was back, together with a dash of bitterness around his lips. Before he could intimidate Kyunya or do anything drastic, Alcer stepped between them.

"That's right. It seems you've understood that there's no way out now," he concluded. Still, to protect Kyunya, he decided to provoke the banker a little and make himself Sawo's main target for now. "By the way, I should thank you. You really did me a favor when you recommended that plan to spread bad rumors about Rimaq's manufactory. I barely had to hint at it during our talks, before you jumped at the chance to exploit the victim of your political games further."

As he stood there and observed the stunned Sawo, Alcer could almost see the wheels turn in his mind.

By now, the banker must have pieced everything together: How Kyunya and Alcer had conspired to take away Rimaq's manufactory during the auction. How Alcer had kept mentioning Kyunya and threatened Sawo with fake rumors during their conversation to 'inspire' the same idea in Sawo. How the spread of the rumors had not only reduced the price, but also removed any outside interference from the equation. How Alcer had repeatedly made sure that he would have more money than the two of them combined at today's auction. How they had informed the police in advance, just to remove the option of a violent escalation from the warrior.

Finally, with all the pieces in place, both Sawo and Rimaq had been forced into a corner. In the end, once every other option had been exhausted, there was only one thing the mighty warrior could still do. As he slowly came to the same realization, the banker finally sighed, and once more calmed down. This time, it no longer felt like a mask, or an attempt to play dumb or stall for time. This time, Sawo truly had to admit defeat.

"Fine then. What is it you want?" he asked through gritted teeth.

Of course, Mallku once again had to take the chance to show off.

"Well, of course, we want to help the police in their investigation," he said in the most insincere voice Alcer had ever heard. "But of course, we can only help them if this manufactory remains our property. If, for example, you were to buy it from us, there would be nothing we could do anymore. The police couldn't just enter your property, after all, and you'd have plenty of time to do whatever you want to do in there, like burn papers and such."

This time, Alcer didn't interrupt Mallku, and he didn't tell him off either. After all, the blacksmith had done an excellent job putting pressure on the stubborn and prideful Sawo.

"How much?" he finally asked after a few more seconds of contemplation.

"182,000 SIla," Alcer shot back immediately.

"What?!"

"Outrageous!"

Again, Sawo had been angered, and this time, even Rimaq woke up again. However, they had only taken a single step out of anger before they were interrupted by a more experienced shout.

"Stop! Don't move!" Killari belted back. As soon as the police officer stepped forward, both the banker and the craftsman recoiled. After all, even if a warrior were able to deal with this commoner, he would become a wanted man all across the kingdom if he attacked a policeman. Thus, the banker once again had to try his luck with negotiations.

"Please, Ensign Alcer," he tried. "I understand your position is stronger, but there must be limits to greed. This kind of sum would be impossible for us!"

This time, Kyunya spoke up.

"That would be your problem," he said, his voice still cold, his eyes always fixated on his former master. "The sum has been calculated based on the money Rimaq's company has stolen from the crown over the past years, plus Boss Alcer's purchase price at the auction. That is how much you will have to pay us. Not one Silo less. Because that is justice."

"It appears I have no choice," Sawo finally concluded as well. "If you would let us leave now, Ensign Alcer, you can come to the Tasa Bank tomorrow. Then, we can finish up the paperwork and handover. And not to worry, I am willing to agree to a police escort, in case you still believe I would do something drastic which would endanger my family."

Again, Sawo sighed, but again, it seemed fake. Somehow, Alcer could tell that this banker was trying to stall for time.

"No, that's not necessary," he replied. "I'd rather you didn't play any more tricks, Master Sawo. And to prevent as much, we've already prepared a contract right here."

Thus, Alcer pulled out the already prepared contract, a stopped up inkwell and a feather quill. Even the final payment and Alcer's own signature had already been added before the auction had ever started. Though even now, Sawo was searching for a way out.

With hopeful eyes, the banker looked over at Killari. The policeman was supposed to uphold the law, and thus was his final straw.

"This contract has been forced onto me under duress," he tried. However, the policeman simply stepped to the side and freed up the door.

"You're free to go without signing, but you're still under investigation, so you'd become a wanted man as soon as you step past this door. If you want my advice, just sign the damn thing so we can all go home."

To belie his harsh words, Killari showed a wide grin to the room. Clearly, he was enjoying this way too much, just like Mallku.

Finally, Sawo was really out of options. In the foyer of Saniya's Royal Theater, Rimaq signed the purchase contract, and the city's richest banker was forced to sign as a guarantor. Eventually, the clever banker would load off most of the costs onto the craftsman, of that Alcer had no doubt. Even so, it couldn't be denied that today, both villains had lost.

Hermit's Notes: I seriously hope all of this still makes sense, with all the inserted flashbacks and such. Or maybe I'm over-explaining everything.  I really can't tell anymore.

Anyways, this mini arc is almost done with this, just one more chapter to wrap things up for now.

Chapter 434 - Culmination of Plans (Part 2)

The same evening, inside the 'Gilded Pheasant'

"In that case, let's order something. I'm starving," Killari said, and buried his face the menu again. However, while the topic of Kyunya's character had been solved for Killari, Alcer wasn't done yet. After all, he still had an ace up his sleeve.

"Wait, what if I had some proof for Kyunya's claims. Would that change your opinion?" he asked.

"Proof? Like what?"

"I have a reliable source. Can't tell you who, unfortunately."

In response, Killari stared at Alcer for a few seconds, before he sighed deeply and threw his menu back onto the table again.

"Why did you even ask for my opinion if you already had your mind made up?"

Faced with Killari's accusations, Alcer remained calm. The veteran knew that his friend was just worried for him, so the policeman was frustrated when he didn't heed his warnings.

"I wanted confirmation from multiple source," Alcer explained, before he quickly added: "That's standard for intelligence gathering in the army. Of course, if you and my other source had told me different things, I would have believed you first, for caution's sake alone. But it looks like you didn't discover anything to incriminate Kyunya, at least nothing beyond a few rumors and conjectures. Together with the statements from my other source and my own judgment, I think he's been telling the truth."

"I did tell you he is involved in the stealing incident," Killari insisted once again, though it was a weak argument.

"Yes, but you also said it was probably just some power politics between Kyunya and his master. That was almost exactly the same story Kyunya told me, wasn't it? That his master framed him and then fired him," Alcer pointed out. "Now that I've got confirmation that he tried to enlist, and that he did even greater things to support our efforts on the front line, don't you think your conjecture should change to reflect that? For example, don't you think it's more likely that he got framed like he claimed, rather than getting his own ploy turned on himself by his master like you thought?"

For a few seconds, Killari's frown grew. He even pursed his lips in frustration, before the exacerbated policeman fell back into his chair and crossed his arms like a little kid.

"In the end, you'll do whatever you want anyways," he said. "But don't forget that I warned you if your business blows up on you or this Kyunya betrays you."

"Haha, yes. I'll be fully responsible." Alcer's wide smile mirrored Killari's frown perfectly. He knew his friend had given him his blessing with this strange, roundabout reply, and even offered to protect him again. However, Alcer would much rather have his friend by his side, so he tried again to recruit him one more time. "Now that I believe in Kyunya's character, I've decided to start a worker cooperative. You're free to join whenever you want."

"I just don't understand why you would have to share the fruits of your labor with others. It's a waste." Rather than take the deal, Killari complained instead. Clearly, he wasn't interested in joining, and only worried for Alcer's benefit. However, the ensign felt that his friend had missed the point.

"I think there's more important things in life than money. Like those around us, or helping others like us."

As Alcer thoroughly explained his vision for his company, Killari finally had nothing left to say. After all, he himself had been helped in the same way. Back when he had been injured in his leg during the war against the central kingdom, he had been forced to leave the army, and Alcer had managed to get him a job with the new Saniya police force. Just how Alcer had helped Killari back then, he would now help other veterans who had nowhere else to go. That was his goal.

"Fine, do what you want."

After he had firmly declared defeat, Killari was ready to pick up the menu for a third time. However, Alcer still wasn't quite done. Shamelessly, he leaned forward and interrupted his friend's dinner one more time, though it was for a good reason.

"In that case, I'll need your help one more time."

__________________________

"No abilities, but more rage and self-entitlement than sense. In fact, I think you especially could learn a thing or two from that apprentice of yours."

Just as Alcer was gearing up to teach these two villains about the errors of their ways, two figures entered through the front door and interrupted his speech.

"That's right, you tell 'em!" Mallku shouted, sporting a wide grin. In comparison, Kyunya's face was full of anger.

"It is just what they deserve," he growled. However, even though he finally had superior numbers, Alcer wasn't happy with the reinforcements.

"Why are you two complicating things here?" he asked, and finally stepped off Rimaq's chest. "I thought we agreed that you'd wait outside."

"No way in the world would we ever miss a show like this. And in the Royal Theater no less," Mallku said, and hit his elbow into Kyunya's side. "Isn't that right, friend?"

Yet his friend didn't seem to hear him at all. Instead, he was fully focused on his old master. While the three of them had been talking, Rimaq had finally stood up again, and his head looked red like an apple. His hands balled into fists as he marched towards Kyunya, mad from anger and ready to pounce.

"You slovenly sobs! Thieves! Bandits! Return to me what's mine! Now! Else I-"

Yet before he could even finish his villain speech, the craftsman was floored once again. Surprisingly, the one who had brought him to the ground with a well-placed tackle wasn't one of his perceived enemies, but his only ally in the room.

"Shut up!" Sawo boomed, as the warrior's large figure loomed over the craftsman. "You stay out of it, you useless bastard! As always, I will clean up your mess for you! So just stay in the corner and keep quiet, before you do any more damage with your nonsense!"

Finally, Rimaq seemed to have learned his lesson. His fear once more overpowered his anger, and he curled up where he sat. Once the nuisance had been dealt with, Sawo turned towards Alcer again. At last, his hypocritical smile had disappeared. Instead, he looked serious, as if he was facing an enemy in battle.

"Now then, what gives us the honor of being tricked like this? What is it you three want to do here?"

With the appearance of Mallku and Kyunya, it seemed like Sawo had finally let go of the last hope. There had never been any misunderstandings. From the very start, he had been cheated. Alcer, for one, was glad that he could stop pretending. He really didn't enjoy this kind of foul play, even if it served a good purpose this time.

"All we want is justice, for those present, and for all the veterans who suffered in the war," a serious Alcer replied. He thought that maybe, if he could explain things properly, Sawo would understand their position. Althogh they would certainly not become friends, they could at least come to some kind of peace deal. There was no reason to antagonize this rich and powerful warrior any further. However, before he could continued his explanation, Mallku had to butt in, of course.

"Here's the deal, money man," he said, as he arrogantly stepped forward and poked the warrior in his chest like a fool, unaware that Sawo could snap him in half. "Now that we've taken over your precious client's business, I think we'll need to look through all the books and such first, to see if there are no problems. I mean, there have been some pretty bad rumors floating around, right?"

Again, Mallku poked Kyunya in the side, whose face was a mask of cold anger, as he stared down at his two tormentors.

Oh brother, what a mess, Alcer thought, before all hell broke lose.

For a few seconds, the confusion was back on Sawo's face, before he put everything together in his head. Now that Mallku had openly threatened him with blackmail, there was only one option left if he wanted to escape the fate of being exploited. The experienced businessman immediately understood and executed this final option without hesitation.

Seemingly ignorant of the pair of snide and angry men before him, Sawo simply plowed through the two like an angry bull. His goal, of course, wasn't to harm them. Rather, his goal was the exit.

After all, the paper manufactory would have evidence of Rimaq's crimes, how he had embezzled the king's money, and how he had manipulated the market to lower the property's auction price. Of course, Kyunya would know exactly where to find these things. All Sawo could do now was rush over to the manufactory itself and destroy anything incriminating he could find.

Even Rimaq seemed to have understood as much. Half a moment after Sawo had rushed ahead, he scrambled back onto his feet as well, and followed his creditor outside. For now, the workers of the manufactory were still under his control, so they could act with impunity if only they acted fast enough. However, for that, they would first have to get there.

"Halt! Police! Not a step further!" a booming voice shouted as soon as Sawo took one step out of the door. Once more, the banker came to a standstill, and subsequently, Rimaq ran into him from behind. Of course, even Rimaq's mass didn't move the warrior forward one iota.

Instead, Sawo slowly moved back as he stared at the police officer who was walking towards them with his baton drawn.

"You are?" he asked the man who was blocking his path. In response, the policeman offered a nasty sneer.

"Officer Killari," he said. "You're under investigation. I'm sorry about this, but I'll have to keep you here for a bit. Wouldn't want you to tamper with evidence while my colleagues are looking around that workshop of yours, right? Anyways, just stay put and don't make trouble. This'll all be over soon."

Hermit's Notes: This chapter is a bit short, but this was the most natural way to split the chapters. As a result, the next chapter will be way too long.

Chapter 433 - Culmination of Plans (Part 1)

"Going Thrice! Sold!" The moment Hieronymus banged the gavel onto the table, a warm feeling spread all over Alcer's body. Finally, after days of walking on a razor's edge, he had landed back on solid ground. After he had bought the manufactory, there would be nothing left to threaten his plan.

For most attendees in the theater hall other than Alcer, the sale of yet another property didn't cause much outrage. After all, this property wasn't all that unique. If anything, the lack of interest from most attendees due to the rumors was one of only two things which made it stand out from others, together with the strange way in which its auction had gone, with only two bidders, one bidding far below value, and the other far above it. However, right after the sale, a third unique feature was added.

As soon as the gavel fell, both Rimaq and Sawo forgot their decorum and the rules of the auction. WIthout a care for the eyes around them, they jumped up and shouted out against the injustice they had suffered.

"What is the meaning of this!?" the former craftsman screamed towards Alcer. His head stretched over Sawo's left shoulder, and his hand dug into Sawo's right, in a panicked attempt to squeeze past the banker and the narrow seats. Compared to Rimaq's madness, the banker at least tried to remain calm.

"Surely, this is simply a misunderstanding," he tried to say, but was interrupted by Rimaq again.

"Misunderstanding my ass! You better-"

However, before he had finished, he was interrupted by Sawo in turn.

"You shut your mouth! This is beyond your abilities."

As the banker shot back, he easily threw off the craftsman's grip and threw him back into his seat. The image was reminiscent of the head guard's fight against Kichka, as the master's actions mirrored his servant's. However, Alcer was more preoccupied with Sawo's surprising strength.

So he was a warrior. I should be more careful in case he does something rash.

Due to the unexpected show of force, Sawo had regained the initiative for just a moment.

"How about we go outside and solve our issues in private," he suggested. This time, his voice was no longer fawning or servile like before. Instead, it was low and deep, and layered with threat.

Faced with harsh words from a dangerous opponent, the veteran Alcer could feel his calm smile fade away. Even so, he remained relaxed. Realistically, there was nothing Sawo could do to him, not here, not if he wanted to keep his banking business.

For now, the auction had been halted. All eyes were on the three troublemakers in the center of the room. Even the local policemen who lined the hall for protection and security looked ready to move by this point. Thus, Sawo was bound by the law, unless he wanted to leave behind his wealth and escape the city. Meanwhile, Alcer himself didn't think it would be wise to stir up any more trouble in public. There was no reason to further provoke these two, until they were in a more private setting.

"Sure, let's do that," the new owner of a paper manufactory thus said, before he left the hall at a leisurely pace.

Of course, in order to retain his self-assured steps, Alcer had to ignore the two malicious stares behind him. Though more than that, he wondered where the ignorant Rimaq still pulled his courage from to provoke him like that. How could this graying craftsman still want to get involved in a conflict between a warrior and an army veteran?For now, there was of course no danger to be had, not until they would leave the hall.

Thus, as he walked, Alcer had the leisure to fall into thought. Only now did he truly begin to grasp just how many pieces had fallen into place to reach today's result.

First, he thought back to the day he had come up with his plan. After he had heard Kichka's idea for an improved musket reloading mechanism, the gears in his head had begun to turn. He had thought about all the veterans still stuck at the docks and in other places throughout the city. He had thought about all the little ideas these men had come up with during their time on the battlefield. After all, such practical experiences, faced with one life-and-death problem after another, would surely breed creative solutions as well.

How many of these could be turned into useful products? With Alcer's ring bayonet alone, their new manufactory could become a fairly respectable workshop. However, once the order for the army were to be filled, there was a good chance that they would simply be out of work for a while. In contrast, with every veteran's ingenuity combined, they could be so much more than just another small company.

Not to mention, there was still the incident with Rimaq's 'head guard', which had reminded Alcer of the cutthroat manner in which many merchants conducted their relations towards competitors. He had heard all kinds of horror stories from Killari, from intimidations like the one organized by Rimaq, all the way to arson and assassinations. Yet if their business were to employ army veterans, surely no one would be dumb enough to use these dirty tricks on them, right?

These veterans would grow and protect the business, and in turn they would receive a safe haven, a place to go even if they couldn't see any other future after experiencing the horrors of war. Of course, the pay wouldn't be bad either, neither for Alcer nor for the other veterans. It was a perfect deal.

Thus, the plan had formed in his head, a plan to punish those who aimed to exploit the good people of the city, while benefiting those good people directly. All he had needed to do before he could get the plan going had been to confirm some basic information, and find some reliable people.

By now, he had reached the final step in his plan, all difficulties had long been passed. All he had to do now was follow his prepared road to its logical conclusion.

While he was still mulling over his next steps, Alcer barely realized that he had left the theater's main hall and entered the building's foyer. At this time, all the other attendees were still inside the hall, where they were waiting for the auction's resumption.

As a result, there were only a receptionist and a few guards left to watch the drama which was about to unfold in this place. Finally, things were quiet enough to start negotiations. However, before Alcer could say anything, the banker and the craftsman were already rushing towards him.

"What is going on here, dear customer?"

"Explain yourself, you poor sod!"

When Alcer turned around, he saw two completely different expressions in the faces of the men who had followed him outside. At some point during their walk, Sawo seemed to have calmed down and returned to his fake servility. Meanwhile, Rimaq was still fuming, and this time, Sawo made no attempts to stop him any longer.

When Rimaq rushed Alcer with a red face and his outstretched arms ready to strangle, the veteran simply held the older craftsman at arms length and stepped to the side. In the end, Rimaq unceremoniously landed on the ground, with a whimper of pain for good measure.

"Bastard! I-" Although the old man was trying to stand up again, Alcer's foot landed on his chest before he could. From his unreasonable actions, it seemed like Rimaq wouldn't calm down anytime soon. Thus, the veteran had to take this seriously, or the old man would injure himself in his rage.

"Do you know who you're messing with?" he asked in a deep voice full of fake anger, while he stared down onto the old man on the floor. Finally, faced with the threat of real violence and no one to protect him, Rimaq calmed down somewhat. Or rather, his fear overpowered his anger for the moment. Once the first problem had been dealt with, Alcer turned towards the second.

"What about you?" he asked towards Sawo. "Do you also wanna go a round?"

Despite his outward confidence, Alcer didn't really want to fight a warrior one-on-one. Luckily, the banker's nerves held, and he retained his mask.

"Of course not, dear customer. We simply wish to know if we upset you in any way? Is this about Master Rimaq's head guard again?"

For a second, Alcer frowned, as he looked at the two villains of this little play. Right now, both of them were presenting their worst vices to him. Although his mood was low over the pitiful state of the old Rimaq on the ground and the groveling Sawo before him, the veteran wouldn't forget what these people had tried to do.

"Yes, you've upset me," he finally said. "It's not about that idiot guard who bothered me last week, I really don't care about that. It's your attitude, how you treat other people. Look at you," he pointed at Sawo, "pretending to be some poor, misunderstood servant, treating everyone like pawns in your games. And you," this time he looked down onto Rimaq again, "No abilities, but more rage and self-entitlement than sense. In fact, I think you especially could learn a thing or two from that apprentice of yours."

As he looked into the shocked and confused faces of his two opponents, Alcer was reminded Kyunya. Compared to these villains, the young drunkard was ten times the man they were. Even though Alcer considered himself a good person as well, the truth of Kyunya's character had been quite the shock.

__________________________

Several days earlier, inside the kingdom's new office for veteran's affairs.

In prior weeks, Alcer had come here regularly for support with his patent process, and to ask for the prerequisites for a loan. This time, however, he had come to ask for help on another man's behalf.

"Official Berrat, you have to help me. I cannot stand the idea of a good man's name being smeared like this." After Alcer had explained Kyunya's story to the official in charge of his case, he finished as such.

This was the first time he had come here since his meeting with Kyunya and Mallku in the ale house. Then, he had asked Berrat for confirmation of some claims Kyunya had made. Back then, the official had asked for some more time.

However, the second time Alcer came, Berrat was ready to answer the veteran's burning questions.

"I hope I don't get you in trouble with this," Alcer began, before Berrat could reveal any secret information out of sympathy. However, the official shook his head.

"It should be alright. Since there's no official record anyways, none of this is classified," Berrat replied. "This morning, I asked the guys who were in charge of enlistment during the early days of the war."

"Thank you very much."

In response to Alcer's sincere bow, Berrat just shook his head again.

"There weren't a lot of people in charge, since most of the soldiers during the war were standing troops. So asking them wasn't that much work in the first place. Anyways, I was told that your friend Kyunya did try to apply  military service, but he didn't have permission from his guardian, so we had to reject him. My colleague tells me he was quite passionate about joining as well, which is why he remembered it so well."

"Is that so? I knew it!" Alcer was overjoyed. Since Kyunya was willing to join the army in penance, he certainly wasn't the selfish thief Rimaq had portrayed him to be. However, if there was any doubt left in Alcer's mind about Kyunya's character, Berrat's next revelation left none of it.

"Not only that, I also have something... less substantiated to tell you regarding your friend," Berrat continued.

"Really? Like a rumor?"

"More of a conjecture, really." The official chuckled. For some reason, he sounded smug. "At the start of the war, we received a number of donations from people across the city, in support of their king and their city."

"This place has a good heart," a proud Alcer noted, but Berrat had already moved on.

"Back then, I was one of the officials in charge of receiving these donations, organizing them, and then sending the bulk to the finance people in Rapra. One of these donations was quite substantial, but also anonymous. That was unusual, since most people donated out of pride, so they were eager to publicize their names. I was curious back then and did some digging. In the end, we traced the donation back to Master Rimaq's paper manufactory, and thought it was just the master's attempt to show remorse in front of the government. But based on everything I've learned today, I wouldn't be surprised if it was sent by this Kyunya instead, without his master's knowledge. If what you said was true, then he was in charge of most of the manufactory's operations after all. Apart from Kyunya, no one else should have been able to send this donation without RImaq's knowledge. And considering what the paper maker has done since the start of the war, I really doubt he would have donated such a sum on his own, which only leaves your friend Kyunya as a suspect."

Once Berrat was done with his conjecture, he leaned back in his chair with the smug confidence of a policeman who had just cracked a difficult murder case. Alcer, meanwhile, had no desire to rob the man of his victory.

"Thank you. This has been a huge help," he said instead, and bowed deeply.

"A help in what, exactly? What are you trying to do? Just out of curiosity, of course."

"I want to make things right. Not only for Kyunya, but for everyone. Just you wait. Maybe soon, your veteran's office will have a whole lot of work all at once."

"In that case, I'll be looking forward to that."

Hermit's Notes: Sorry, things got even later than I thought, though by now you might be able to guess why.

This is the finale of this mini-arc, and this chapter and the next three are all constructed out of a number of disjointed mini-chapters, most of them flashbacks. Organizing them has been a real mess, and I's still not 100% on some things. I hope these chapters won't be hard to follow (to add some clarity, any flashbacks are presented in italics, but I'm not sure that's enough).

Tomorrow, there will be at least two more chapters (which only need proof reading, but I'm honestly too exhausted to do finish that today.)

Chapter 432 - Auction

Five days after his agreement with Alcer, Sawo stood in front of Saniya's Royal Theater, the location of the government's manufactory auction. Today would be the day all of his work until now would come to fruition. With the purchase of two manufactories by his customers, the first step in his plans would be completed. Of course, first he had to somehow keep those troublesome customers of his in line, starting with the one standing next to him.

Master Rimaq Argo had come to Saniya as a thin, middle-aged man full of ambition. Since then, his hair had started to gray and he had bloated up to impressive size. Squeezed in by ever new layers of fat, his small eyes threatened to disappear into his face completely.

At some point during his weight-gain, he had also traded the simple clothes of a common craftsman for the fancy robes of a wealthy merchant. Maybe the old ones just didn't fit him any longer. Only his yellowed fingers still reminded careful observers of his humble profession, one he hadn't seriously practiced in years.

This husk of a man, hollowed out and bloated up from years of excess, was what waited next to Sawo, all self-righteous and haughty.

"I cannot believe that I have to waste my time on this nonsense," Rimaq complained. "I should be preparing to take what is rightfully mine later, instead of flattering some lowly soldier!"

"Of course. Soon, Master Rimaq will own what has rightfully belonged to Master all along," Sawo flattered insincerely. Of course, only someone this self-absorbed could believe that the manufactory he had graciously received from King Corco was somehow his property, just because he had overseen it for a while.

"However, the rumors spread by that soldier have brought us a great advantage in the upcoming auction," Sawo continued. "The least we can do is repay his efforts with a few words of sincerity."

In fact, the rumors spread by Alcer and Kyunya had worked even better than he could have ever imagined. By now, all the side streets and ale houses in the city were filled with stories of spies and bribery within Saniya's largest paper manufactory. When he had met them for a soiree two days ago, none of the rich friends in his circles had shown any more interest in the manufactory, not even the ones who had been previously piqued. Since Sawo's social circles were wide, he was convinced that there wouldn't be any interested parties to compete for Rimaq's manufactory later.

Now, there was only one little problem left to solve: Alcer, who knew the truth of their deception, could still make their life difficult by revealing everything at the last second. Thus, Sawo's top priority for now was to keep Alcer happy, even at the cost of Rimaq's mood. Though clearly, the craftsman didn't understand how much Sawo had worked to his benefit.

"Sincerity? With some poor sod like that?" he scoffed instead. "Why would I apologize when I have done nothing wrong? He should be the one to apologize for fraternizing with an ungrateful thief like Kyunya!"

More and more, the craftsman was talking himself into a rage. However, Sawo knew how to make the self-righteous idiot stay obedient.

"Master Rimaq, if we cannot come to an agreement with this Alcer later, you should understand that it will be difficult for you to smoothly regain your territory."

As he spoke, Sawo pulled out a banknote and rubbed it between his fingers. With such a clear hint, even Rimaq understood that he wouldn't be able to buy his precious manufactory without Sawo's financial support. If he kept complaining and even upset his creditor in the process, he would end up with nothing. Thus, the craftsman finally stopped his yammering, though the clenched fist rested on his belly still betrayed his anger. Yet Sawo had no more time to try and pacify him. Not long after, the protagonist of today's meeting arrived.

"Here comes Ensign Alcer. Please remember our agreement, Master Rimaq," he reminded the craftsman, who replied through gritted teeth.

"Of course," Rimaq barely managed to squeeze out. By now it was too late for Sawo to fix his attitude any further, since he was already had focused on the newest arrival.

"Welcome, dear customer!" he shouted, and walked toward Alcer in an attempt to initiate a familiar hug. However, the veteran stepped back to avoid his great benefactor.

"Now then, I suspect this is the famous Master Rimaq?" Rather than reply to Sawo's enthusiastic greeting, Alcer addressed the craftsman with a cold sneer on his face. In turn, Rimaq only huffed, but Alcer continued undisturbed.

"Master, I've heard so much about you," the soldier said in an insincere tone. "I'm well acquainted with your subordinates, after all."

Again, Rimaq remained silent, but Sawo could see his face slowly turn red from the barely veiled provocations. Maybe this soldier wasn't quite as stupid as he had thought. At least when it came to taunting, he seemed to be a veritable expert.

"In fact, I believe I should apologize. My man was a bit rough when he pushed your head guard's face into the dirt. I think he overdid it a little."

"You-"

Rimaq's trembling fist finally left his belly and he marched towards Alcer, but Sawo held him back by the shoulder in a panic and interrupted him before he could do or say anything stupid again.

"Truly magnanimous of Ensign Alcer to apologize like this. I believe we should all take a step back. We are friends after all, are we not? So we should cooperate. Smoothly."

As Sawo spoke, he stared down Rimaq with the harshest eyes he could muster, and once again rubber his fingers together. At the same time, the trained warrior Sawo was pinching the old craftsman's shoulder. Under the physical — as well as monetary — threats, the proud craftsman finally gave in.

"Yes, I should apologize for my servant's forward manner. It seems he misunderstood my intentions."

Although his words were polite, Rimaq stared down Alcer as if he wanted to strangle him, and his tone was forceful and low, as if he was trying to curse his opposite.

"That's fine. I've already forgotten all about that slimy head guard of yours," Alcer replied calmly as if he hadn't seen Rimaq's anger.

However, Rimaq didn't react to the newest insult. Instead, he was already staring at Sawo, waiting for his approval. The banker, meanwhile, was breathing a deep sigh of relief. Although the apology had been insincere, it had apparently still been good enough for Alcer. Thus, he nodded towards Rimaq and let go of his shoulder, before the craftsman huffed once more and walked towards the theater's entrance without another word.

Useless bastard! Just see how I squeeze you once your business is indebted to me!

Although Sawo was exasperated at Rimaq's disrespect, he still had to put on a happy smile as he walked towards his remaining customer.

"Haha, please ignore his rudeness, Ensign Alcer," he said. "Master Rimaq is simply nervous due to the auction. All of our futures depend on today, after all."

However, Alcer once again didn't respond to Sawo's words.

"You have my money?" he asked instead.

Greedy bastards, the both of you.

"Of course." Sawo pulled a stack of papers from within his long robes, his practiced smile always retained. "Here, promissory notes of Tasa Bank, worth 80,000 Sila. To the government, these are worth as much as silver."

This was part of the agreement they had come to during Alcer's last visit to the bank. Sawo would pay a certain sum in advance so that Alcer could buy a building for his manufactory at today's auction. Only after the soldier had his locations secured — and Rimaq had his — would Sawo know how much money the bank had left, and how much more he could loan out to them for further operations. Yet despite Sawo's diligent fulfillment of his promise, Alcer's face still didn't look any better than before.

"Good," he simply said, as he leafed through the notes. Only after he had checked every single one did he spare a rude glance to the proud warrior before him. "And you're sure I got more than that Rimaq guy?"

This was another one of Alcer's unreasonable demands. Although the army hero had pretended to be magnanimous before, the insults he had received before were clearly still bothering him.

Petty bastards. You'll get what's coming to you.

Obviously, Sawo couldn't say that, no matter how cathartic it would feel.

"Of course, dear customer," he squeezed out instead. "Even with the additional money I have loaned him today on top of his own savings, Master Rimaq has no more than 50,000 Sila at his disposal. That much, I can guarantee."

Due to Kyunya's rumors, 50,000 would still be more than enough to win the property rights for the paper manufactory today, so there was no real problem, despite the limitations Sawo's work had been put under. Still, Alcer's endless stream of pointless requirements really bothered him, as did his arrogant manner. Again, the soldier only sneered in response to his benefactor's servile attitude.

"Good. You best keep your fat friend in line, or you'll lose my business right away."

Thus, Alcer swaggered away as well, to follow Rimaq in the direction of the auction house. Meanwhile, Sawo was left standing on his own.

Lowly bastards, the lot of you. Just you two wait. After today, you'll be in my debt, and in the palm of my hand. We'll see who among you two debt slaves would dare disrespect me then.

__________________________

"Why is a royal scientist leading the auction?" Alcer asked in a stunned voice.

Up ahead on the theater's stage, standing behind a podium and swinging a tiny gavel with great enthusiasm, was Hieronymus Bombasticus, a famous figure in the city.

Head of the royal chemistry workshop, well-known genius, and a close friend to the miracle king, Sawo enumerated in his head.

"I have heard rumors that he enjoys such activities," Sawo replied.

By now, he had taken his seat between Alcer on his left, and Rimaq on his right. Eventually, he had caught up with his two unreliable customers, and now he was stuck playing peace maker again. As the banker observed the scientist up on the stage, he couldn't help but notice that, much unlike him, the famous scientist seemed to be having the time of his life.

"Come on, ladies and gentlemen! Such a beautiful property, a manufactory for soap production, producing lavender soap, one of Saniya's flagship exports! 50,000 Sila is a steal! You may as well come up here, turn out my pockets and rob me blind! Going once, any takers, any takers? I see 55,000 from number seventeen! Who else wants to own the production methods of the miracle king's favorite product..."

This is already the third 'king's favorite product' he's sold today, Sawo thought. However, something more pressing confused him.

"Dear customer, are you not interested?" he asked Alcer sitting to his left. "This manufactory's size and location seem quite suitable for your purposes, and the price seems bearably as well."

This was already the third property which seemed appropriate for Alcer. However, so far, he hadn't lifted the little paddle with his designated number on it even once. While Sawo had still remained quiet the first two times, he was getting a bit nervous now, so he had to ask. However, his least favorite customer shook his head.

"No," Alcer replied. "I already have my eyes on a business coming up later. Believe me, it's perfect."

Although Alcer showed an arrogant smile, much unlike his previous indifferent persona, Sawo didn't have the time to bother with such details for now. Once the scientist's gavel fell onto his podium, the bang signaled that the soap manufactory had just been sold. Now it was finally time for Rimaq's paper manufactory to fall under the famous scientist's tiny hammer.

"Now then, on to our next property..."

Once again, the part-time auctioneer launched into a tirade of compliments about the manufactory on the block, one more exaggerated than the last. To Sawo's right, Rimaq's face showed a silly grin as he easily fell for the scientist's flattery.

Fool, don't you understand? The more attractive your property, the higher the chance someone else will be interested.

If course, Sawo couldn't say that either, so he just had to sit there on pins and needles. Eventually, the scientist's lengthy introduction was over, but the room remained dead silent.

"No takers?" Hieronymus tried again. "No one interested in this worthwhile endeavor?"

"30,000 Sila!" Rimaq finally shouted, while raising up his numbered paddle.

"Ah, yes, a good figure to get us warmed up. Limber up your limbs and get your paddles ready, this chance will never come cheaper again. That's 35,00 from the gentleman on seat number 25. Now who else has been enticed by this one-of-a-kind opportunity?"

As the auctioneer droned on and on, Sawo finally calmed down. Eventually, his lips rose into a sly grin. Despite the scientist's best efforts, it seemed like there were no takers apart from the manufactory's 'rightful owner'. Their plan had worked out perfectly, they would snap up this unpopular property at a rock-bottom price. By the end, even the auctioneer's voice had lost its enthusiasm.

"Going once! Anyone else? Anyone else? Going twice! Going-"

"80,000 Sila!"

Sawo smug grin froze on his face as he heard the familiar voice shout a ridiculous number. Like the jammed up crank on a rusty pump, his head slowly turned towards his left, where he met with Alcer's equally smug grin. With a single shout from his dearest customer, Sawo's precious plans had turned to dust. What on earth was happening here?

Hermit's notes: Sorry for being a day late. I wasted some extra time reshuffling the ending of this mini-arc at the last second.

Chapter 431 - Fool

Yes, certainly an army man. That means he'll probably stick with the truth, and is probably easy to fool.

Every time he met a prospective customer for the Tasa Bank's loan business, Sawo would first observe them to understand them before they ever opened their mouths. Thus, he carefully watched the young man with the sharp face and stiff posture who sat in front of him, across from the expensive table in his office. It was a familiar feeling, and a familiar room, though both hadn't been much in use recently.

In fact, he wasn't really responsible for the lending business anymore. These days, he had people for that kind of thing. Rather, he was busy handling his other properties, and had no time to sit around and listen to poor people who tried to take his hard-earned money.

However, today's customer was simply too important, and Sawo just happened to be here, so he decide to greet this important customer himself.

"Now then, Officer Alcer," he began, while he pointlessly shuffled some papers around his table to look important. "We are very happy that you still decided to work with us."

"You say that, but 'happy' is not the impression I got from you," the officer huffed, and threw one of the Tasa Bank business cards onto the table between them.

Of course, Sawo knew what this customer of his was talking about. He himself had ordered his workers to put some pressure on undecided high-value customers. It was an aggressive strategy, but also highly effective. After all, this one had still come here, no matter how much he complained. Obviously, Sawo couldn't admit as much, so he simply played dumb.

"Whatever could dear customer be talking about? Surely, this is a misunderstanding. All we offered was a simple reminder that the bank is currently a bit short on funds. After all, we cannot wait on our potential customers forever, no matter how good their business might be."

Although Sawo felt that his excuses were good, it didn't calm the commoner's anger.

"Well, I'm not the one making you wait. It's one of your other 'customers' who's making trouble for mw. What do you say about that?"

"I don't follow."

This time, Sawo was really confused.

"Okay." The customer seemed to collect himself for a bit, before he adjusted himself in his chair and began to explain, now in a much calmer tone. "You know the papermaker Rimaq, right? One of his goons came to me a few days ago and threatened me. Just as I found a good administrator to get my business started, they are trying to force me to look for another one."

"Haha, that is a real tragedy," Sawo deflected with a hollow laugh. "However, the bank is unaware of such actions, and not involved in the private behavior of our clients. We are merely facilitators, you see."

Of course, he couldn't just give up Rimaq's business over a minor complaint. After all, Rimaq was an important piece of Sawo's future expansion strategy.

"Then you best facilitate between me and that guy, or you can forget about my business," this customer insisted. "You wanted me to come up with a more concrete business plan and hire an administrator, right? Don't think I'll work with you when your other client makes it impossible to fulfill your requirements."

"Please, we are merely a bank. What are we supposed to do?" Sawo acted pitifully, but inside, he was seething.

Never before had he seen such a self-entitled commoner. This sort of behavior had been getting worse ever since the lightning miracle, but this one really topped everything. If this customer hadn't been connected to people in the army, Sawo would have thrown him out long ago.

Him and his worthless knife business that's doomed to fail.

However, the idiot knew nothing of Sawo's professional assessment, so he continued to bluster.

"Since you don't know what to do, I'll be the one to do something instead," he said, with an annoying sneer on his face. "I know that some protected materials were almost stolen in that paper manufactory, and I can prove it. That Kyunya your friend Rimaq doesn't like? He knows a lot, and he likes to talk. What do you think would happen if rumors about that spy-infested company's lack of security were to spread? I wonder how valuable this Rimaq customer of yours would still be by then."

For a second, Sawo was silent. Although he still calmly returned the commoner's annoying stare with a smile, he was even more furious inside. Rimaq was Sawo's way onto Sillu Island, the first step to the establishment of an alliance of large property owners.

With the warrior class gone, these owners would play a crucial part in Saniya's politics in the future, and Sawo intended to lead that movement. For that, he needed support from people like Rimaq. He didn't know whether or not the spy claims from the annoying army man were true, but he couldn't risk it. He wouldn't have his hard work ruined over this commoner idiot's pride.

"Surely matters are not that serious," he carefully tried to disarm the commoner, but in the expected manner of a soldier, he kept his weapon and thundered on.

"That Rimaq had his goons waiting for me at my home! I won't stand for that."

In defiance of his claim, the idiot stood up and slammed his hand onto the table between them. Despite the booming voice and his own internal anger, Sawo remained calm and polite on the outside.

"Of course! Please calm down, dear customer. We will guarantee your satisfaction."

And stop hitting my table, you rube. That's mahogany, you'll never be able to afford it with your worthless business. I wouldn't even bother with you if you couldn't introduce me to some army personnel.

Once Sawo had shown some weakness, the commoner finally came back to his senses and stopped abusing his table.

"Then make sure that your other dear customers don't ruin my business anymore," he insisted as he sat down in a huff.

"Haha, I am sure we can come to an agreement," Sawo deflected once more. Rather than defend all this time, he would much rather go on the attack. Thus, he pulled over a document he had been handed by his secretary and pretended to read. Of course, he already knew about the contents. "Now then, dear customer. I see here that apart from the need for an administrator you have been given other requirements before we can grant your wish for a loan. Have these requirements been met already?"

Because if not, I really don't have to waste any more time on you. I'd rather be at home with my family than spend my day with some self-entitled dreamers. And whatever empty threats you offer, I will just deal with them later. The power of rumors is always limited, especially in the hands of a rube like you.

However, Alcer's next words immediately removed all of Sawo's frustration, as well as his condescension.

"Yes, everything else is taken care of. As I said, I've failed to secure an administrator because of that Rimaq's little goon, but I already have a high-quality blacksmith lined up. He has worked out a concrete production plan and everything, including the materials we'll need to get started. If my word won't suffice for you, he can come here any time and present his plans to you. However, beyond that, I also have this."

Finally, the rube dropped a piece of paper on the table. Before Sawo had even picked it up, he noticed the seal at the bottom of the page.

Royal Army? he wondered immediately. A fake? Surely even this uncouth commoner won't be dumb enough to try that.

However, when he saw Alcer's confident grin, he couldn't afford to doubt him any longer. Just on the off-chance that this document was real, he had to treat it as such.

"That's right," the customer said, with empty pride in his voice. "We've already secured a contract with the army. As you see, I already have a seller and craftsmen lined up. Now all I need is the money to produce the goods."

With dry lips and shaking hands, Sawo inspected the paper further. Indeed, this document was to the order of thirty thousand 'ring bayonets', given out by the army to the name of the rube sitting before him.

Although the note looked a bit provisional, the contract wasn't fully concluded after all. Maybe some buddy in the army had given Alcer this guarantee early. After all, according to Tasa Bank's investigation, Alcer himself was a former ensign, and a well-respected veteran in certain circles.

Suddenly, the paper felt like pure gold in his hands, smooth and shiny. No, this paper was better than gold, and even better than the money it guaranteed for this veteran's bayonet business. This was a way for Sawo to get involved in the army's affairs, and become a proper military supplier.

All throughout the war, he had hoped to get involved with the arms trade in some way. However, the kingdom had never accepted any help from private merchants. Every single coin the army had spent had gone to the kingdom's own manufactories or granaries. Others could only earn in a second or third instance, providing goods which the manufactories needed to produce military supplies. Even so, the merchants involved in these trades had all made a fortune in a short amount of time.

Now, finally, the chance had come to Sawo to do the same. He could already hear the coins roll into his coffers. But more than that, he could already hear his voice within the city grow louder, and more influential. If he could establish business contacts with the army, his power would increase dramatically. With more power, there were many things he could do. For example, he could influence the local officials in his favor to make business easier and more profitable. More importantly, he could protect his family, as well as the many subordinates who relied on him.

However, just as Sawo was dreaming a beautiful dream, the paper which would make it all possible was rudely ripped from his hands. Shocked and confused, he stared at his dearest client, but the cold eyes of the man in question mercilessly cooled down on Sawo's fiery heart.

"I have to take this thing back, of course. This deal isn't quite official yet, and still highly confidential. I can't have evidence of an early deal lying around, can I?"

Although Sawo had this treasure taken from him, his previous anger had completely dissipated. For now, he had confirmed his suspicions: This paper represented only a preliminary deal. However, that was even better. For Sawo, this meant that this Alcer could get special treatment from the higher-ups in the army, which made this connection even more valuable.

"Of course," Sawo easily agreed, and tried to improve his best smile even further. "Since dear customer has trusted me so much with this information, I will seek to show my gratitude. Your previous loan application will be approved today, no questions asked."

"No." The greedy commoner shook his head. "My deal got a whole lot more certain compared to last time, so your old conditions aren't good enough anymore."

Naturally, Sawo couldn't get angry over a little bit of greed. Rather, the greedier this precious client was, the better. Greedy people were easier to trick, and easier to control.

"Of course not. What is it you desire, dear customer?"

"I want an apology from that Rimaq guy for his disrespect. Directly from him. No subordinates and no letters."

"Of course, this much should be expected. I will put in a word, and I guarantee that this uncouth Rimaq will apologize to Master Alcer in person, within a few days at most."

While Rimaq's paper manufactory was an important step in Sawo's plan, the papermaker was nothing compared to the chance to enter the arms industry. Thus, Sawo easily threw his older customer Rimaq off the boat to make room for Alcer. Forcing the papermaker into an apology wouldn't be difficult either, considering just how much leverage Tasa Bank had against him. However, an apology wasn't all his newest best client wanted.

"I also want a bigger loan," Alcer added. "You saw that this is a big order, and I've heard that it's only the first of many. So I'll need more money to build a manufactory that's big enough to get all of these orders done on time."

Idiot. Rather than ask for better conditions, you ask for a bigger loan? This way, once you fail to read the contract carefully, I'll have you in the palm of my hand for the rest of your life. You'll have to pay me off forever. And if you want to keep your wealth and business, you'll have to do me a favor or ten.

Already, Sawo was looking forward to a brilliant future, provided by his newest best customer. Unfortunately, there was only one problem with his calculations.

"Of course," he answered again. "However, the loan will have to be postponed until after the government's recent manufactory auction. For now, many loans are still being processed and the bank does not have the capacity to provide further funds."

Although Sawo thought that these few days of wait were only a minor issue, his fussy customer once again saw it differently.

"What? Are you crazy? If I wait that long, who knows what'll happen with the army contract. And I wanted to buy a ready-made manufactory at the auction for cheap, too. The sooner I get started with production, the faster I can make my money back. So if you can't help me get this done, then I'll just go to another bank who'll take my business instead."

Thus, his rash, lovely customer threatened to escape his customer status, and stood up to emphasize the point.

"No, please wait!" Sawo shouted and jumped up as well. As he followed Alcer around the table, his mind was working frantically in search of a way to retain his best client. "No need to get up. I'm sure we can arrange something somehow. Just give us some time, dearest customer."

At least, Sawo's words made the precious customer stop halfway to the door. However, Alcer's nasty grin didn't bode well in Sawo's eyes.

"Then how about you just take some money from that Rimaq guy?" Alcer asked brazenly. "I hear you're about to loan him a large amount so he can buy his own workshop at the auction."

Again, Sawo was shocked by the rude commoner, for the second time today.

"Where did you hear that?" he asked, this time with genuine suspicion written on his face.

It couldn't have been any of my guys who talked, right? Must have been one from Rimaq's side. That useless-

Before he could finish the thought, Alcer uncovered the mystery and exonerated Rimaq.

"Where else? That Kyunya guy told me. He probably knows about every dirty deal that went on in that manufactory."

"That man is not to be trusted," Sawo tried to disarm Alcer's newest weapon, again to no avail.

"So you're not loaning to Rimaq then? I'll know the truth after the auction at the latest," he pointed out, before he added. "You think I'll work with liars then?"

"No, I..." Again, the wheels in Sawo's head turned, until they fell upon a brilliant solution.

If you keep using this Kyunya to spread gossip, then I can do the same, he thought, before he spoke up again, his confidence restored.

"How about we work out a deal? I believe I have an idea."

"I'm listening."

Finally, Alcer sat down again, and Sawo followed. For now, the commoner had turned into a customer once more. Sawo intended to keep it that way.

"You are still friends with this Kyunya, are you not, dear customer?" he asked.

"Well, we're acquainted."

Good enough.

"In that case, could you convince him to spread rumors about the ruinous state of Rimaq's paper manufactory? It doesn't matter even if they are false, so long as they are convincing. That wouldn't be difficult, would it?"

For a moment, Alcer seemed taken aback, before he replied with a sneer.

"Convince him? That guy is so obsessed, he won't talk about anything else. If I give him the chance, he'll spread those rumors all on his own."

"Fantastic." Sawo clapped. "In that case, please do so."

"Why?"

"Because no one wants to buy a ruinous business. If there are no other takers for the paper manufactory, Master Rimaq will be able to purchase it for cheap. Then, we can easily loan out the leftover funds to Master Alcer. This way, everyone wins."

Enamored by his own wits, Sawo sank back in his chair and waited for a positive response. Minutes later, they were working out the details of their deal. An hour later, Sawo was shaking the hand of the foolish army man and led him out of the building.

In the end, this brutish commoner had come to complain about Rimaq, but Rimaq's prospective loan had only gotten better, while Alcer's had gotten so much worse. All the papermaker had to give in return was an empty apology, while Sawo was the greatest winner, as usual.

He really didn't understand these prideful army people, but he didn't have to. All he needed to do was trap this Alcer in a contract he would never escape from. Eventually, Sawo would not only control Saniya's industry, but its army as well.

In the past, he had tried to gain power through sheer military might. In the future, he would rebuild his empire based on business alone. Fools like this Alcer would get him ever closer to his dreams, one foolish signature at a time.

Hermit's Notes: Yay, Sawo's back! This arc is about to move on to its finale already. Feels like I only just started writing it.

Chapter 430 - Informant

He hasn't shown up for months, and now he won't leave me alone.

Only a day after Killari had taken time out of his busy day to get his hapless old friend Alcer acquainted with an unreliable blacksmith, they were already meeting up again. Of course, the former ensign was the one paying, which was the only reason Killari was here in the first place. Or rather, he still wouldn't have come, hadn't he been invited to this place specifically.

"You know, it took a lot to get us a seat here. This 'Gilded Pheasant' is the most popular restaurant in the entire city right now. I heard that their head chef has studied under Master Chuku of Rapra Castle until very recently. You know what that means, right? Today, we'll be eating the same meals the king might get to enjoy on a regular basis."

"Hmm..." Despite Alcer's enthusiasm, Killari just hummed in response. Not that he was ungrateful for the opportunity to eat here. He could certainly show off with this meal back at the station. However, his mind was fully occupied trying to comprehend the thing they called a 'menu' here.

On a large, sturdy piece of paper, he could read up on all the dishes served at the restaurant. It was a vast array of foods unseen in any other places he'd ever been in. His usual eateries would often serve only one or two dishes a day.

They would just pick whatever was cheap from the market and then make that as appetizing as possible. Then again, he had never been in a fancy place like this, where he could eat items from faraway places like Porcero. This restaurant wasn't only far above Killari's pay grade, it was also too far outside of his comfort zone.

In here, you couldn't even eat without knowing how to read, hence the menus. Although he had gone through a basic language course to prepare for his work with the police, he was struggling considerably with all the long, unknown terms for fancy foods from far-off lands. However, it seemed like his host had misunderstood Killari's silent concentration.

"So where exactly did I offend you? Do you have any idea how expensive these seats were? What exactly are you dissatisfied with?"

Of course, Killari knew that Alcer had told the truth. Just to get a table like this, on such short notice, he must have bribed a bunch of people, not to mention the eye-watering cost of the meal itself. Together with the crazy money he had wasted in pursuit of his business dream, most of the funds he had gained from playing hero in the army must have been used up by now.

Thus, Killari certainly was grateful. He had just been too focused on reading to show it. Though of course, he would never admit to his poor reading skills. Why would he embarrass himself like that in front of the show-off Alcer? So instead of gratitude, he said what had been bothering him since this morning.

"It's nothing, just don't pretend like you're doing me a favor when I was the one who was left with all the difficult work. Again."

Earlier this morning, while Alcer was presumably running around to chase his dreams, he had sent his old subordinate Kichka to the police station to ask for help again. Though this time, it had gone a bit farther than a simple introduction.

"So you got what I asked for." An overexcited Alcer threw his menu to the side and stared at Killari with that annoying look of his.

Like an excited dog, naive and stupid, Killari thought as he pulled a small pile of paper from his chest pocket. He sloppily unfolded the sloppily folded paper, before he threw it onto the table between the two.

"Yupp, I got what you wanted," he finally concluded. Of course, such a simple conclusion brushed over all the hurdles he had to jump just to get these papers copied and out of the police station.

When Alcer wanted to pick up the documents, Killari's outstretched hand nailed the paper to the table. With stern eyes, he stared at his leichtsinnige friend, before he asked in an equally stern voice: "You know that this could cost me my job, right?"

"Yeah, I got it-" Alcer began and tried to pull out the papers again, but Killari immediately interrupted him.

"No, I mean it," he stressed again. "I can't reveal anything about an ongoing investigation. In the police force, that's grounds for dismissal. That means if this comes out, my job will be on the line."

Of course, this was an exaggeration. While a single one of the documents was still part of an open investigation, it was more of a nuisance case. As in, a nuisance to handle, and of no consequence if no one bothered with it. Now that the papers were out already, no one in the force would fire him over copying some information like that. At most, he would get told off by his superior.

However, Alcer didn't need to know that much. All this light-headed fool needed to know was that his actions had consequences, not only for himself, but also for others. At least that much, Alcer seemed to have understood, because he finally let go of the documents.

"Yes. I get it. I apologize," the hero said, before he bowed his proud head. "Thank you for your help. These are special circumstances, so it won't happen a second time."

At least that much, Killari could agree with. This guy wouldn't start a new career every week, would he? Once he got his new bayonet business going, he'd stay quiet for a while, and Killari would earn himself some peace and quiet.

Thus, the policeman finally let go of the paper. However, he would much rather explain the contents himself. Otherwise, this overly optimistic hero would come to entirely wrong conclusions, as usual.

"Those special circumstances are the only reason I'm helping. Wouldn't want your life in the hands of a thief and scammer," he thus said.

"So he did do it?" As expected, Alcer just picked up the conversation, rather the papers. Meanwhile, Killari leaned back and stared back and forth between his friend and the documents, before he explained.

"Yeah, looks like it. I looked into this Kyunya guy for you. As I said, there's an ongoing investigation, but there's also a few closed ones. His own statement seems about right, from what I could tell. He was also the one who told on his master about the pamphlets from the priests."

"But?" At least this much, Alcer seemed to understand. There were always two sides to every story. That was something Killari had learned in his years with the force.

"But, he only did it after the lightning miracle," he continued. "There's no way to know if he was really opposed to the business with the priests in the first place, or if he just got cold feet later when he knew that they would be exposed eventually. It's also suspicious that he went by himself, without his master. Almost looks like he wanted to get rid of him, since their relationship isn't very good. When that no longer looked to be in the cards, this Kyunya suddenly worked very hard to keep both himself, and coincidentally his master, out of the labor camps, and to keep his master's manufactory running. As for his claims that he wanted to join the army later? There's zero evidence of that, though the army's records are classified, and they won't record some kid's failed enlistment in the first place. So still lots of unclear things about this Kyunya, though there's one thing I can say for sure: Most of his claims about selfless, heroic deeds he's supposedly done can't be confirmed, while most of the bad stuff he's done is true."

As he spoke, he could see Alcer's brows furrow further and further. He knew his stupid friend well. This guy would rarely change his mind once he had formed an opinion on something, no matter how stupid it was. In this case, it seemed like this Kyunya had been quite convincing during their first meeting. Although it was a pain, he would have to rectify this, since Alcer's meeting with the papermaking apprentice had sort of been Killari's fault in the first place.

"Like what?" Alcer finally asked in a suspicious tone.

"Like the stuff about stealing from his old master. All true, and it wasn't just 'some minor things', like he claimed. I mean, he wasn't technically lying, but it's hardly the truth either."

This time, Alcer's frown had turned into a confused stare.

Slow as always, Killari thought, before he suppressed an annoyed sigh and tried to make things as easy as possible for his simple friend.

"He never did tell you what exactly he was accused of stealing, did he?"

"What did he steal?" Alcer asked in response.

As Killari made a grimmer face, the hero also began to speak in a lower tone, and acted more serious in resposne. As always, he was too empathetic for his own good.

That's why you need me to back you up, Killari thought, as always.

"He was taking frames for trapping and pressing wood pulp?" he finally said, with some level of uncertainty. "Something like that. I don't really understand the details of it, but I don't have to. In the first place, the main reason I don't know in detail is that the materials he took are, apparently, of 'protected status'. That means someone among the king's ghost warriors is interested in them. Since they're materials from a manufactory, they're probably a secret item, needed for some kind of new production method. You know, the ones that make our city so much money these days. It's like your new friend said: These things really weren't worth much coin — just being some pieces of wood and all — but they would have been worth a mountain of silver to the right buyer from the north."

Of course, much of that was a gross exaggeration. These plates were no longer protected status, and hadn't been when Kyunya had been accused of stealing them. If the ghosts had still been interested in these frames, Killari would have never gotten his hands on this information in the first place.

Though from what he could tell, they had only been removed from protected status very recently, so this it didn't change his assessment of this Kyunya in the slightest. However, even with such a clear warning, Killari's naive friend still wasn't convinced.

"And you really believe he'd do that?" Alcer asked in the voice of a toddler who couldn't understand why the sun couldn't stay up longer to extend his playtime. "He didn't seem like that kind of guy, and he was working against the north before. He exposed his master's work with the northern priests, and he even wanted to enlist, remember?"

Again with this nonsense.

Rather than refute these bogus claims for a second time, Killari decided to make things simple for his friend.

"I don't know what I believe," he said. "But people do a lot of things you wouldn't expect once money is involved. If you ask me, this whole situation just seems like a case of power politics. The disciple wanted to steal protected materials, and then pin the theft on his master. That way, the greedy, selfish master is gone, and he can legally take over the business. But the master found out early and managed a reversal by framing his disciple first."

"That sounds far-fetched," Alcer doubted.

"So does your one-sided story of a hard-working good guy and his mean, mean master."

Finally, Killari's words made Alcer hesitate.

"You really wanna hear my professional opinion?" the policeman continued. "I don't trust either of them. It's too risky. I think it's best to just stay out of this, and do your own thing, rather than risk getting scammed by a potential criminal."

Of course, Killari had exaggerated quite a few things again. There really wasn't any evidence for any of his own claims about Kyunya, and Alcer's interpretation of events was as valid as his own.

However, he didn't want to see his friend get hurt over someone else's revenge. His friend, as always, was too nice for his own good. In the war, Alcer had always fought for others. But here in Saniya, that sort of naivete would get him robbed, or killed. In the face of such possibilities, a small lie wasn't a big deal, Killari thought.

"Well, I'll think about it again," Alcer finally said.

Though he still acted stubborn, he was visibly deflated, so Killari was confident that his friend had seen reason at last. Satisfied with his work for the day, he finally picked up his menu and tried his luck with the difficult words again.

"In that case, let's order something," he said. "I'm starving."