The towering stone gates of the lower ring loomed through the evening fog as Arthur and Lyra re-entered the city. To any casual observer, they looked like two ordinary low-born youths carrying heavy, linen-wrapped bundles. But hidden beneath those humble bindings lay a haul capable of throwing the entire kingdom’s trade markets into absolute disarray.
Lyra glanced nervously toward the bustling, torch-lit plaza where the central Adventurer’s Guild hall stood. High-ranking female mercenaries, heavily armored knights, and aristocratic matriarchs milled about the entrance, boasting of their daily hunts and flashing their credentials.
"Arthur," Lyra whispered, pulling her cloak tight around her ears. "If we register at the main Guild counter, an S-rank Griffin harvest would instantly elevate us to high-tier status. We would receive legal immunity, tax exemptions, and access to the upper city quarters."
"And we would also attract the immediate attention of the royal intelligence network, the high council, and every major merchant house looking to conscript or control an unregistered male," Arthur replied, his voice cool and decisive as he turned away from the grand Guild hall, heading back down the narrow, damp stairs leading into the underworld. "Public attention at this stage is a liability. True power operates in the shadows until its foothold is absolute. We return to Vespera."
Lyra hesitated at the mouth of the subterranean tunnel, her cheeks flushing hot with reluctant jealousy. "Do... do we really have to go back to her dark market? She looks at you like she wants to devour you..."
Arthur offered a faint, dry smirk, continuing down the stone incline without missing a beat. "We go where liquidity is discreet and immediate. Keep your mind on the objective, Lyra."
The undercity was even livelier at dusk. As Arthur and Lyra traversed the dimly lit alleys of the black market, news of Arthur’s return spread like wildfire among the female thugs and rogue mercenaries patrolling the stalls.
"Look! The young master came back!"
"Did he forget something? Did he miss Madame Vespera already?"
"Hey, handsome! Looking for a place to rest those tired shoulders?"
Flirtatious calls and admiring giggles echoed off the wet stone walls. Hardened female enforcers leaned against timber beams, fanning themselves and shooting seductive winks at Arthur. He walked past them like a ghost, utterly impassive, his eyes fixed firmly ahead while Lyra strode close behind him, glaring sharply at anyone who dared step too close.
They reached the heavy iron double doors of Vespera’s vault. The guards, recognizing Arthur instantly, practically tripped over themselves to open the entry without even demanding a password.
Inside the quiet, mahogany-paneled archive, Madame Vespera was reviewing her ledger under the warm glow of a mana lamp. Hearing footsteps, she looked up, her crimson eyes widening in genuine astonishment as she saw Arthur step into the room.
A sultry, amused smile slowly bloomed across her voluptuous red lips. She closed her book, leaning back in her velvet armchair with an air of playful flirtation.
"Well, well... I didn’t expect my ambitious little king to return so soon," Vespera purred, her deep voice smooth as velvet as her eyes swept over his handsome face. "Did you miss my archive? Or did you realize that the world outside my shadow is a bit too cold for a young boy to wander alone?"
Arthur didn’t engage in her light banter. He stepped directly up to her grand mahogany desk, unslung his massive, leather-bound storage pack, and let it fall onto the polished wood with a heavy, echoic THUD that rattled her inkwells.
Vespera raised a manicured eyebrow, her flirtatious smirk faltering slightly. "What is this? Did you collect some low-tier slime gels to pay off your reading debt?"
Without a word, Arthur reached down, unlaced the enchanted preservation seals of the pack, and tipped the contents out onto her desk.
A blinding, ethereal light exploded through the dark archive.
Dozens of pristine, high-grade mana cores rolled across the wood, glowing with intense blues, golds, and deep crimson hues. Accompanying them were bundled vials of rare dire-horn viper venom, pristine razor-claw pelts, and fifty pitch-black, metallic obsidian feathers that hummed with concentrated static electricity.
And right at the center of the pile sat a basketball-sized, perfectly spherical core pulsing with a blinding, deep-violet aura—the legendary, unblemished core of an Ancient Shadow-Gilded Griffin.
The silence that fell over the vault was absolute.
Vespera froze. Her crimson eyes dilated to the size of saucers, her hands trembling as she slowly stood up from her chair, staring at the glittering mountain of legendary monster components resting on her desk. As the leader of the city’s premier black-market syndicate, she knew the precise market value of every rare reagent in the continent.
"This... this is..." Vespera stammered, her breath catching in her throat, all her flirtatious composure completely evaporating. "A... a Griffin core?! Flawless rank-S obsidian feathers?! Arthur... how... where did you get this?!"
"I harvested them from the deep zone of the Blackwood Forest three hours ago," Arthur stated calmly, leaning forward with his hands resting on the edge of her desk. "Calculate the wholesale value. I am selling the entirety of this batch to your syndicate directly, bypassing the Guild taxes."
Vespera’s heart hammered violently against her ribs. She looked from the violet core to Arthur’s impassive, commanding face, her mind completely reeling. A single S-rank Griffin core, along with its intact feathers and surrounding high-tier materials, was worth more than her entire syndicate earned in a full quarter! It was a haul so astronomical that selling these materials to high-tier noble houses and black-market blacksmiths would instantly make her syndicate the most powerful economic faction in the undercity.
Holding this haul was like winning the ultimate jackpot—a massive lottery ticket delivered straight to her desk by a nineteen-year-old boy.
"You... you really are a monster," Vespera whispered, her breath coming in shallow gasps as pure, unadulterated admiration and intense romantic affection flushed her cheeks crimson. She looked at him not just with lust, but with profound, breathless devotion. "This... this is worth over eight hundred gold crests... more money than most merchant houses see in a decade..."
She stepped out from behind her desk, her voluptuous body swaying as she glided toward him, her hands trembling as she reached up to touch his chest.
"Arthur..." she purred, her voice dripping with intense desire, her eyes shining with desperate affection. "Stay with me tonight. Take half the profits, take my whole store, take me... I will handle the liquid gold, I will handle the distribution, I will be your loyal weapon. Just stay..."
Arthur gently but firmly grabbed her wrist, stopping her hands mid-air, and pushed her back with a cold, unyielding precision that left no room for argument.
"We are business partners, Vespera," Arthur said, his voice quiet, sharp, and commanding. "Keep three hundred gold crests as your syndicate’s commission for liquidation and silent distribution. Convert the remaining five hundred gold crests into clean, non-traceable bank notes and raw gold bullion by tomorrow morning."
Vespera blinked, her heart pounding at his cold rejection, yet her respect and love for him only surged higher. He was a man who couldn’t be bought, swayed, or seduced—a true sovereign.
"Five hundred gold crests..." Vespera breathed out, a helpless, enamored smile returning to her face as she straightened her robes. "Consider it done, my king. Your clean capital will be ready at dawn."
Arthur gave her a single, sharp nod, turning on his heel and walking out of the vault without a second glance.
"Come, Lyra," Arthur called out softly.
Lyra, who had been watching the exchange with a mixture of intense pride and fierce possessiveness, gave Madame Vespera one final, triumphant look before rushing to Arthur’s side, holding his arm tightly as they stepped back into the night air.
With five hundred gold crests of liquid capital secured and his true strength hidden safely in the shadows, Arthur looked out over the sprawling, light-dappled silhouette of the city skyline.
The initial capital was secured. The foundation was laid. The conquest of this new world’s economy was about to begin.
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