–—- ??? —---

  Wilbur’s opinion of the Merchant only grew as the hours passed. The silver-tongued merchant moved from resurrected house to resurrected house, spinning god knows what to its inhabitants. Whatever he was telling them, the end result in most cases was the sale of their property.

  Kaledo would enter. Minutes would pass. Then the door would open again. Wilbur would walk into the orante homes and be ‘mysterious’. The less the wizard talked, the better the effect. Wilbur loved it.

  Then he would make a bag of gold appear, hand it to Kaledo, and the smooth talker would count out gold, then hand Wilbur’s sack back. Many of the owners would stare in shock at the pile of gold. Others would eye it suspiciously.

  But they still took it. And for a steal in most cases. The ending cost was normally around twice what they paid for their property. One person even took less than what they paid. That frazzled old man took his wife and middle-aged son and practically sprinted out the door. Wilbur and Kaledo watched them heading for the nearest gate.

  “Oh. That might end up being a problem.” Wilbur mused as he watched the retreating trio.

  “A problem?” Kaledo asked, rapidly glancing between the trio and Wilbur.

  “Those people seem to want to get as far away from the city as possible,” Wilbur said, pointing at them. “However, I watched that golden-armoured lot order elementalists to seal the city.”

  Kaledo looked confused for a moment, then his eyes went wide in realization.

  “Wait… sealed?” He looked toward the sky. “Do they believe that this city has ‘fallen’?”

  Wilbur frowned. “Huh? What do you mean?”

  “You don’t know?” Kaledo asked in disbelief. Wilbur shook his head and shrugged.

  “Never heard of it. I’m assuming it’s not a good thing?”

  “No. Not at all.” The merchant sighed. “The town where my grandparents had their estate was one of the first to fall. Everyone who fled the town lost everything.” He looked around the city, eying their surroundings. “I suppose the corruption takes time to show itself.” Kaledo met Wilbur’s eyes, his expression serious. “Whatever your plan for this city is, you need to reconsider. The corruption affects everything within the city's domain. It’s going to get bad.”

  Wilbur messed with a small cube in his pocket. “Can you explain what it being ‘fallen’ entails?”

  “Not well.” Kaledo shook his head. “But I had a childhood friend who tried to enter that corrupted town. He thought he could change his fate. Found an old family journal that detailed an underground vault near the walls of that place. I told him not to go, but he wouldn’t listen. He said it would be easy; their old home was right next to one of the entrances.” Kaledo’s face fell. “I never heard from him again. When I tried asking around, the priests of the radiant church caught wind of what happened. They launched an investigation into his family, had them all inspected for signs of corruption.”

  Wilbur nodded, his magical senses stretching out across the city. He felt the demonic energy that was linked to the arcane–An acrid, tainted taste to the mana. It was minuscule for now, but he had noticed it had grown noticeably in the time he had been in the city.

  Wilbur looked up toward the twin suns, estimating it was past noon. Seemed like a decent time to take a break.

  “Kaledo,” Wilbur said, glancing back towards the man. “Want to take a short rest? Get some food?” He held his hand, and the bag appeared, which he handed to the merchant. “Can you check if that’s going to be enough?”

  Kaledo still looked worried, but took the bag. Wilbur waved his hands, and a table and chairs appeared. Mentally digging through his subspace, the wizard thought through food options. Making a choice, his hand twitched, and a roasted fowl appeared alongside salted and chopped russet potatoes, a colorful salad, plates, and cutlery.

  Kaledo set the bag on the unoccupied end of the table. He carefully tipped the bag, and gold coins spilled out. With quick, practiced motions, the merchant stacked them into piles and counted.

  He glanced up at Wilbur, who was sipping coffee from a steaming full mug.

  “You should have enough…” Kaledo paused. “But I’m worried about some of the older west houses. Those families are exceedingly wealthy and quite shrewd. Their homes are some of the oldest in the city, and they may demand an excessive price to part with them.”

  Wilbur rubbed his face and groaned. “So, I should get more gold.” He saw the merchant was now intensely eying the food. “Eat Kaledo. I put this out for you, so it would be rude if you don’t dig in.”

  Kaledo glanced between the roasted bird and the Wizard. He seemed to be weighing his options, but the delicious smell of cooked bird and roasted potatoes caused his stomach to rumble loudly.

  “I guess I am hungry,” he admitted, then took a seat. He glanced up at Wilbur. “Are you not going to eat?”

  “Not right now.” Wilbur shook his head, then took a long pull from his mug. “I’m going to finish this cup on the go. Have a few errands to run,” he took a step back. “I’ll be right back.”

  Wilbur smiled as the Merchant seemed to miss the words. The man was practically drooling as he cut portions of meat and heaped the buttery, seasoned potatoes onto his plate.

  Clap. Clap.

  Wilbur shimmered away.

  –—- ??? —---

  In imperial history, the return of the heroes after their victory over the cycle was normally met with praise and admiration. However, there was no fanfare or parade for Jonathan and his party. Instead, the fortress city of Ruyluen felt abandoned as the wagons slowly rolled through the cobbled streets.

  At least the occasional militia and guards in the city would step aside and salute the passing heroes.

  “You’d almost think they were told we had failed and the Demonlord was still running rampant,” Timothy whispered to his friends from his seat at the front. He nodded to the saluting spearman as they passed.

  “Who knows what they have been told?” Darcy replied, her face dark. “I still think punching windbags is the only way to play this.

  Jonathan chuckled, “As satisfying as that would be, I think we hold that as at least plan C.”

  Darcy lay back against a sack. “Do let me know if we get to that point.”

  Algorax snorted in his sleep, then resumed his deep, sonorous snore. Jonathan shook his head as he glanced toward the hulking beserker.

  If only he could sleep like that. He rubbed his eyes. If he had a mirror, he was sure he would see the dark rings of fatigue encircling them.

  They rolled through the city until they came to a stop at the gate of the inner wall, the entrance to the noble section.

  A soldier whose golden polished armor gleamed approached.

  “The imperial court awaits your report.” His rough voice barked as he eyed the heroes. Without waiting for a response, the templar moved past Timothy and took his spot. With a flex of his hands, he flicked the reins, and the hoofed beast pulled the wagon away.

  The heroes all stretched as they tried to relieve the soreness from the hours-long, bumpy ride. Of all of them, Alograx looked particularly annoyed, his eyes longingly tracking the departing wagon.

  Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  “Alright then,” Catherine spoke, straightening herself. Her face calmed, her expression firm. “Shall we inform the nobility of our victory?”

  She glanced at her friends. Algorax continued to fantasize about sleeping. Darcy rolled her eyes. Timothy and Marie looked uncertain. Her gaze swept to Jonathan.

  The paladin’s expression was a swirl of emotions. Feeling her gaze, he met it. His uncertainty vanished as a confident smile replaced it.

  “Let's do it.” Then he added. “And I have no intention of simply standing by if they intend to use us as a political punching bag.”

  His eyes shone, and he glanced toward Darcy. “Be ready.” He turned to the others. “If we all agree, of course.”

  Algorax finally turned back from his wagon vigil. His mouth split into a feral grin. “Always shiny, boy. Just point my axe in the direction it should swing.”

  The others all nodded.

  “Then let’s go find out how the imperial court wishes to disparage our achievements.” Jonathan boomed as he confidently strode toward the gate.

  On either side, the other heroes flanked him as they marched forward.

  To the den of vipers that called themselves ‘nobility’.

  –—- ??? —---

  In a town far away from Ruyluen, someone else sat within a den. A den filled with overly excited and talkative traders.

  “We're just so honored to have you return so soon!” The clerk beamed towards the wizard. “Our first encounter was far too short!”

  “Thankfully,” Wilbur muttered quietly from where he sat in the well-furnished room.

  “I know! I am also so thankful you returned!” The enthusiastic clerk continued. “It may take some time for our manager to acquire proper payment for the items you presented. But have no fear, I’m sure he will be able to find the amount you requested.”

  Wilbur gave the man a quick nod.

  The blessed silence lasted for barely a heartbeat.

  “Would you mind if I asked you a question?”

  Wilbur met the young man’s eyes. Were there still dragons around? Maybe he should go searching for one instead. He could fight it, then subdue it, then barter with it for gold. Surely having a dragon relinquish some of its horde would be preferable to being in this trading hall.

  The young man’s smile never wavered as he stared expectantly at the wizard.

  Wilbur sighed. “What is your question?”

  The clerk looked as if Wilbur had just told him about Santa, that he was real, and his heart's desire was about to be granted.

  “It’s about our trading hall. I was absolutely shocked to learn that your family has helped fund our company. Not only that, but your family name is listed on our charter! A founding sponsor! It’s an honor, really!”

  Dragons. Dragons were extremely protective of their riches, but they hated speaking at length. It was a solid plan.

  “But, enough of that.” The clerk waved a hand. Wilbur relaxed. Safe.

  “You see…” The young man continued. Wilbur’s eye twitched. “While I perform clerical duties for the hall, it is not my true passion. My joy comes from my desire to learn. To discover the history of the world. It is my muse and obsession.”

  Wilbur’s eyes snapped to the clerk. “Just ask the question already.”

  “Oh!” The clerk’s hand covered his face. “I am so sorry, honored sponsor. I did not mean to offend.”

  Silence.

  Wilbur leaned in a bit, his jaw tense and a fake smile on his face.

  “Right!” The clerk beamed. “The question!”

  Pause.

  “Is your family name related to your business?” The clerk asked, a notebook seeming to appear in his hands. “That gem you brought was unlike any we have seen. I apologize again that we didn’t immediately have the gold on hand to pay immediately as we did last time.”

  Wilbur groaned internally. That had been his first mistake. His goal had been to get in, then out of this place as quickly as possible. The first time, he had put up a well-crafted sword he had found ages ago. From his discussion with the branch manager, it seemed he had nearly cleared out the trading hall’s liquid capital. So this time, since he needed less gold, he had decided to trade one of the gems he had found.

  He had found them while expanding his lab underground. Something shining in the extremely dense material that made up the base of the Glittering Expanse had intrigued him. To his disappointment, they were not suited to hold mana. They were glittering, dark, smoky gems whose only redeeming quality was their extreme toughness.

  So, he had taken one out and handed it over. He wanted to gauge the manager's response and figure out how many more he would need to pull from his storage. His goal was to clear out any remaining gold the trading hall possessed, then teleport back to Golvan and continue his checklist.

  What he had not expected was that the gem, based on the manager’s response, was worth far more than the sword.

  It made no sense. It had been a mistake. Wilbur regretted everything.

  “Esteemed founder?” The clerk asked.

  “Huh?” Wilbur squinted, then his mind replayed the man’s question. He cringed. “Oh, sure. We are Smith’s after all.”

  Why had he gone with that alias? That had also been a mistake. When the founder of this place had asked him what his surname was, he had decided he didn’t want them to know his true name. So his mind had jumped to the first real-sounding last name he could think of.

  Smith. John Smith. Wilbur Smith.

  That alias had lasted all of one month. The number of people who came to him with questions about metals, stones, and requests for his ‘family’ to forge items had been obnoxious.

  Of course, past Wilbur had to sign a document that was enshrined in the deepest vault of this hall. Perfect.

  “Now I know I shouldn’t ask where it came from, but I am curious. Is it one of a kind? I have never seen something like it.”

  “Yes. It’s rare. We happened upon it by accident.” Wilbur replied.

  The clerk nodded excitedly as he jotted down notes. “How interesting!”

  Wilbur shook his head. How was that…

  “Do you travel much, esteemed founder?” The young man looked disappointed. “That is my dream, I wish to learn everything I can about the world and its history! But, how can I say that, I haven’t even left Chase.”

  Wilbur shuffled his feet awkwardly. Yet another mistake. He’d never assumed the local magistrate would take his name suggestion seriously. It had really just been a joke. Wilbur had thought it was funny at the time. The Town of Chase. Well, it had grown into the city it was.

  “The world can be dangerous,” Wilbur replied absentmindedly. “Especially if you are too curious.”

  The clerk’s eyes turned serious, then focused on his notes as he scribbled down Wilbur’s words.

  Wilbur’s eye twitched again as the youth looked up, his mouth opening, but then the universe smiled on the wizard.

  One of the doors in the room was shoved open as the manager returned.

  “Esteemed founder. I regret to inform you, this is all I could gather.” Sweat glistened off the stocky manager’s forehead as he struggled to hold up two large bags. “Given a day, I will be able to gather the rest.” He nodded toward the young clerk. “May I suggest that Gavin give you a tour of our city while you wait? He has extensive and interesting knowledge of all–”

  There was a blur of rainbow as Wilbur appeared in front of the Manger. He snatched the two bags from the man and immediately bolted for the exit.

  “No-worries-at-all, seriously-dont-worry-about-it!” Wilbur spat out the words rapid fire. “Take the rest as a tip for the wonderful service I have received, okay bye!”

  The door was violently yanked open, and the wizard fled at full speed. The door creaked back into place as it shut in his wake.

  “Wow. His family must keep him very busy for him to have leave at such a pace!” Gavin exclaimed.

  The manager nodded at the wisdom in the young man’s words. The stocky manager studied the clerk, his mind calculating.

  Gavin was an odd, but good person. But now the manager saw him in a new light.

  For the youth to cause a descendant of one of their founding sponsors to tip so generously…

  “Gavin, I am going to inform the staff.”

  The clerk looked toward him, confused.

  “If our esteemed founder returns, they are to find you immediately. I don’t know what you did, but to evoke such benevolence from one such as he…” The manager shook his head. “Be proud of today, Gavin. Be proud.”

  Gavin inhaled and stood tall. He beamed and clutched his notebook tight.

  –—- ??? —---

  “Welcome back!” Kaledo greeted. “Was your trip successful?”

  Wilbur shuddered, then waved a hand. The two bags appeared, then slammed into the ground.

  “Is this enough?”

  Kaledo stared at the two bags. After a moment, he swallowed. “Filled with gold?” he squeaked.

  Wilbur stared.

  “Ah, that’s a silly question.” Kaledo shook himself, then smiled. “Yes, that should be more than enough.”

  Wilbur fell backwards, his recliner appearing to catch him. He let out a long sigh of relief.

  “Oh, thank god.”

  Kaledo looked at him with concern. “I hope it wasn’t too difficult?”

  “Kaledo, it was awful,” Wilbur said, closing his eyes. “I really hate dealing with people. I guess I just got so used to having you speak for… for…”

  Wilbur’s eyes snapped open and then locked onto the merchant.

  Just… why hadn’t he thought of that?! Why hadn’t he brought KALEDO!?

  Wilbur smacked his forehead as the realization sank in.

  “Sir? Are you alright?”

  The wizard sighed.

  “Don’t worry about it…”

  Kaledo looked concerned, but he nodded. “Okay…” He glanced up the street, then back to Wilbur. “Shall we get back to the task?”

  The wizard nodded. “Yes, yes, back to it,” he rose from his recliner, the chair vanishing. “Who are we going to next?”

  Kaledo pulled out his book and scanned its page. “This one might not be possible, but we should try.” He glanced up. “She’s old, terrifying, and stubborn. Her noble house has been in Golvan since its founding.”

  Wilbur shrugged. “Her name?”

  “Lady Thornwall.”

  –—- ??? —---