Commerce Emperor

Chapter Fifty-One: Journey to the East

I usually preferred casinos over libraries, but Wisepeak’s might make me reconsider.

The city landed second among Pangeal’s most prestigious academic centers, being narrowly edged out by the Everbright Empire’s Imperial Academy of Magic in Solara, but it famously housed the largest library in the world. I didn’t fathom just how big it was until I entered it and faced spiraling shelves higher than some castle’s towers.

The Wisepeak Library dizzied the mind in its grandeur. The building stretched over three floors connected by a maze of ornate staircases and winding balconies. A horde of researchers, scholars, priests, and adventurers poured over ancient texts under the soft glow of light runestones; the staff had to use ladders to reach the highest books. I passed by private reading rooms and classrooms tucked away in the quieter corners, filled with snoring students and bored academics.

I could spend a lifetime in this place and never read more than a fraction of its collection. I was too much of a talker and an extrovert to linger in such a place for too long, but the sheer amount of information within its walls appealed to my greedy heart. Knowledge leads to power and opens up opportunities.

“Excuse me?” I asked a nearby scholar in an Arcane Abbey garb. “Where’s the geography section?”

“Two floors down, left wing.”

I thanked him and went on my way. Climbing down the stairs left me winded by the end of it, but I finally found the section. Marika and Benicio sat around a wooden table covered with piles of maps and an atlas.

“So, any luck with your studies, Beni?” I teased them after grabbing a chair and joining them. “The exam is tomorrow.”

Little Beni stuck his tongue at me, much to his mother’s amusement. I took it as a good sign. Because of his maturity, I often forgot that he remained a child.

“Wonderfully. I sold off all of our timber.” As I guessed, a city of scholars paid top price for good wood to print books with. Mister Fronan would have to forgive me.

“Why did you even bother taking all that wood with us?” Marika asked with a frown. “You can transport it across great distances with a stroke of a pen.”

“To avoid warehouse fees,” I replied. I liked Greybeach’s people, but the budget had no friends, only expenses. “Most importantly, I also sold twenty songboxes.”

Beni beamed with pride. He had helped me brainstorm that product’s name.

The timber sale had only been a ruse, a pretext to introduce the library’s staff to soundstone technology. Songboxes represented an evolution from our previous designs thanks to their ability to record sounds on reusable wax cylinders. Most importantly, they looked easy to use and practical. For academic institutions, those points mattered quite a lot.

“Once a learning center of Wisepeak’s reputation adopts soundstones, it’s only a matter of time before other universities imitate it,” I explained. “I bet the Imperial Academy of Magic will send us an order within the year.”

“If they can catch us before we move away,” Marika replied before presenting me with an atlas of Pangeal. “Here are the spots you wanted us to find.”

I studied the map carefully. It showcased a dozen points spread across all of Pangeal and the four Seasonal Seas. This considerably narrowed down the range of our research, but the fact that half a world’s worth of distance separated some of these places worried me. We couldn’t afford to pick the wrong destination.

A puff of smoke erupted out at my side, as if on cue. “My, my, aren’t you looking all studious?” Eris teased them upon sitting beside me. “I should have bought a pair of glasses to look smarter.”

“I’ll trade your bad eyesight for my tone-deaf singing,” I joked back. “How were things in the Arcadian Freeholds?”

“Far too quiet.” Eris peeked over her shoulder to ensure no one eavesdropped on our discussion, then leaned in to conspire with us. “Fronan and the Ranger are convinced that the Shadow of Envy has left the Arcadian Freeholds for the southeast.”

I digested the information, then exchanged a glance with my fellow Heroes. If Eris was right, then I feared our journey would soon grow even more complicated.

“What makes them think so?” I asked.

“A trail of faceless corpses pointing in that direction,” Eris replied with a grim frown. “It led the Ranger and her allies all the way to a Knot stronghold and a dozen murdered cultists.”

That caught my attention. “The Shadow massacred them?”

“There’s a civil war among the Demon Ancestors and Knots?” Marika asked with a glint of hope in her eyes. It would certainly help us if our enemies wiped each other out. “Shouldn’t they be on the same side?”

“Belgoroth wanted to burn down the world, his former teammates included,” I pointed out. The Ancestors cooperated when their interests aligned, and fought when they didn’t. “What is the Shadow after?”

“Everything, my dear Robin. It’s in their nickname.” Eris crossed her legs, a thoughtful frown forming on her face. “According to historical records, the Shadow’s madness usually follows a specific pattern: they would find someone in high place in society, steal their face and name, and then live their life for a time until they inevitably grew bored of it. Then they moved on to the next victim and repeated the process all over again.”

Little Benicio and his mother both shuddered, as did I. From the way Eris spoke, I gathered that these ‘historical records’ were an euphemism for her own memory.

“That’s quite the ghastly hobby,” I said. “But compared to Belgoroth’s world-destroying aspirations and Daltia’s desire to reshape the cosmos, I do find it strangely small-minded.”

Eris smiled at me. “All Rogues are takers by nature, Robin. The Class was designed to bring down the overly mighty and teach humility to the arrogant. Building the future is your job, my dear Merchant.”

“Thank you for your trust,” I replied as I pondered her words. The Rogue and the Merchant were rivals and opposites, same as the Knight and Mage or the Ranger and Bard. “I imagine my opposite number would be someone focused on the small-scale; a person who cares more about individuals than communities and infrastructures.”

“Now imagine those roguish qualities and flaws exacerbated to their worst extreme,” Eris said. “The Lord of Wrath was the ultimate Knight, the world’s best warrior; so much that he waged war on everyone. The Shadow of Envy is the greatest Rogue: the kind who exists only to steal and tear down the work of others.”

Little Beni formed a series of hand signs which his mother quickly translated. “Beni asks if the Rogue can steal memories?”

“Good question, my dear child.” Eris nodded with a sigh. “The Rogue can steal anything from anyone they can touch, and yes, that includes their memories. The Ranger believes they struck a hideout belonging to the Knot of Greed in search of information.”

“That’s what I figured,” I said. “It can’t be a coincidence that the only active Demon Ancestor we know of suddenly decided to move in the same direction as the Devil Coins. They must have discovered Daltia’s plan while ‘interrogating’ her cultists."

Marika’s jaw clenched tightly. The prospect of potentially encountering another Demon Ancestor didn’t please her in the slightest. “How strong is the Shadow of Envy? Compared to Belgoroth?”

“You’ve seen what Mersie could do, and Chronius can shoot a wyvern flying above the clouds with a bow,” Eris replied. “Imagine their Classes combined in a single vessel. Records say that the Shadow is nowhere near as dangerous as the Lord of Wrath in battle, but they’re lethal both at range and up close. They can also change identities like they do clothes.”

“Belgoroth was a warhammer, this one is a dagger,” I summarized. Both were equally dangerous in very different ways. “Whether the Shadow wants to sabotage the Devil of Greed’s plan or hijack it, we’ll have to remain vigilant. I’m sure we’ll encounter them at some point.”

“I fear the same,” Eris replied with a sigh. Her gaze wandered towards the atlas. “What’s that?”

“A list of confirmed miracle sites,” Marika explained.

I quickly layered the atlas with a map of the Devil Coins’ recorded movements. “We know that Daltia is trying to forge a fifth Artifact, and that the Devil Coins are converging in one spot,” I said. “If we assume that the Devil Coins each hold a demon’s soul, or at least serves as the anchor preventing them from passing on, then Daltia likely intends to use them as raw material for her crown. Or at least this sounds like the most plausible explanation yet.”

“Makes sense,” Marika replied with a scowl. “While the Artifacts each represent a function of the world, they all possess a physical form of their own. The Windsword allowed Arcados the Green to wield it when he established the Arcadian Freeholds.”

“And you can only soulforge adamantine in a very few special places,” I said. “Namely, spots where the whole world’s flow of essence gathers; places which the Goddess herself visited or where the Four Artifacts reunited to pull off miracles.”

We already excluded Mount Erebia, since it was the most defended place in the world, alongside a few similar sites. Considering their general directions and Mirokald’s own observations, we identified three potential sites for where the Devil Coins could potentially converge: the Pit of Apocris in Irem, the Kazandu Peak in the Shinkoku Empire, and the Spiral Maw in the Spring Sea.

“It’s quite the selection,” I muttered to myself. “They’re all half a world away.”

“We can already exclude Irem though,” Eris replied almost immediately.

I raised an eyebrow. “Why’s that?”

“Because that’s where the Lich of Gluttony is currently sealed,” Eris replied. “Her power turned her into a near-mindless creature with an all-consuming hunger for essence. Much like generations of Fatebinders have used Mount Erebia’s energies to contain the Curse of Pride, disturbing the local flow in any way risks breaking her seal. At best, the Lich risks interrupting the forging ritual; at worst, she’ll consume the crown and its gathered souls.”

“Irem hosts the best exorcists in the world too,” Marika suggested.

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The more I considered the Irem option, the more I leaned against it. While I strongly disagreed with Irem’s colonialist policy, they possessed a highly organized state with plenty of witchcrafters. Daltia would have little hope of harnessing the local essence without alerting legitimate, anti-demon authorities. Between the danger of the Lich of Gluttony usurping her bid at godhood and the risk of interruption, she would likely opt for an easier location.

Which left the Shinkoku Empire’s Kazandu Peak, an immense mountain in the heart of Soraseo’s homeland, and the Spiral Maw. I didn’t know much about the latter, except that it was a storm-wracked remote region of the world whose reefs hosted an astronomical quantity of shipwrecks carried by strong currents.

We’d intended to stop in the Shinkoku Empire on Soraseo’s behalf, but reaching the Spiral Maw would require much preparation. The Spring Sea was sparsely populated and filled with dangerous creatures.

Eris slouched in her chair. “You’ve seen the Devil of Greed, Robin. How did she appear to you?”

How strange that we talked of her other self in such distant terms. I knew we couldn’t risk being overheard—not to mention that few among us Heroes knew her secret—but I sensed Eris was doing her best to mentally distance herself from her worst parts.

“She came to me dressed like the Goddess Herself, wrapped in gold,” I recalled, “with the arrogance and mirth to match.”

“She sees herself as the new Goddess,” Eris confirmed, a hint of guilt in her voice. No doubt she didn’t like that blasphemous part of herself. “The same Goddess who forged the Artifacts atop Mount Erebia, the world’s tallest mountain.”

She pointed a finger at the Shinkoku Empire.

“This,” my lover said, her nail highlighting Kazandu Peak’s written name. “This is the world’s second highest mountain.”

Marika stifled a laugh. “She would be that petty?”

“Her ostentatiousness does imply a certain desire to compensate for something,” I joked back. I sensed Eris lightly kicking me under the table. “Would she choose that peak though? Symbolically, it would be admitting that she was the Goddess’ shadow rather than her equal.”

“She’s the Devil of Greed, not the Curse of Pride,” Eris replied. “Unlike the latter, her pragmatism will temper her arrogance. Trying to forge the crown in Erebia itself would be suicide, so I think she’ll settle for what she can get away with.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Are you certain of yourself, Eris?” I asked her. “We may not have the time to visit every location in time. If we guess wrong, all of Pangeal will pay the price.”

Eris shifted in her seat. She understood my hidden question clearly enough: considering the risk of letting Daltia complete her crown before we could stop her, was she absolutely certain of her hunch? She feared being influenced by her other half as much as she hoped that their bond would give her insight into the Devil’s plans.

“Dear Robin, no one should ever be certain of anything,” she replied with a sorrowful sigh. “Unfortunately, other news makes me lean in that direction too. I wanted to wait until our Monk joined us before discussing the matter, but I received a warning from the Arcane Abbey’s spy network. The Shinkoku Empire has fallen into dark times since the emperor’s demise.”

Of course things could never be so simple. I could wager a guess on what caused these internal troubles. Soraseo’s father, the Shinkoku Emperor, perished some time ago and her younger brother inherited the throne; since rulership followed a strict law of primogeniture where both women and men could inherit, Soraseo’s mere survival represented a challenge to her sibling’s claim. Her banishment wouldn’t stop ambitious nobles from rising up in her name, especially if word of her earning a Class had reached them.

Eris met my gaze and confirmed my fears with a sigh. “It’s worse than you think, Robin. The new putative emperor is ten years old.”

“Ten?” Marika asked, her son’s head perking up with interest.

I let out a groan of frustration. This was the story of Archfrost’s civil war all over again. “Let me guess,” I said. “He’s too young to rule as emperor, so an unpopular regent disastrously rules in his stead?”

“Brings back memories, doesn’t it?” Eris shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “Two councils of regents have begun to wage war over which of them will rule in the young emperor’s name. A third side clamors for the return of our dear Monk to lead the country, and the Arcane Abbey’s spies also reported signs of demonic activities in the countryside.”

“The Knots hope to destabilize the country,” I guessed. “A state torn by civil war can’t effectively protect its important sites.”

“Lady Alexios also fears the chaos will spread beyond the Shinkoku’s borders,” Eris added. “Their empire has been violently colonizing Seukaia for years and tensions with Irem never truly disappeared either.”

When she put it this way, the Shinkoku Empire appeared to be our best bet. Its weakened state, the presence of demons, and its symbolism would make it the ideal site for Daltia to forge her crown once she gathered the Devil Coins together.

“It could be bait though,” I said. Daltia had proven herself to be the most insidious of the Demon Ancestors. I wouldn’t put it against her to send us false signals in order to divert our attention.

“I will contact other Heroes and see if they can keep an eye on the other sites,” Eris suggested. “I believe Professor Chandraj was due to give a conference in Irem, and the Dancer lives there too. Neferoa’s fleet can reach the Spiral Maw quickly too.”

“I say we try our hand with the Shinkoku Empire, Robin,” Marika argued. “We were already planning to visit the country anyway, and Soraseo can guide us.”

With no more objections from my part, I simply nodded slowly. Maybe I was simply overthinking this. I’d grown so used to trying to solve the world’s problems by myself that I struggled to trust that others could assist.

Our battle with Belgoroth proved me wrong already. Our group was only a faction of Heroes among many, each more talented than the last. I’d trusted Roland to safeguard our homeland in my stead; I had to extend the same feeling to our other allies.

I checked over the map to decide on our next destination. I would have wanted to make a stop in the Everbright Empire both to sell our stock and meet with a publisher to distribute Colmar’s book, but the fastest itinerary would take us through the Riverland Federation. We could make a stop at Goldport to gather supplies then fly straight to the Shinkoku Empire.

Thankfully, I knew someone who could help with that.

I could almost taste the hatred in the air.

Healing Chronius and Mersie of their wounds didn’t take long once both awakened. I’d grown proficient at shifting injuries around to volunteers so they would hardly feel anything. But not even the Merchant’s power could cure emotional scars so easily.

Chronius reached the Colmar first, alongside his adoptive daughter. He looked more like an eyepatched scarecrow than a man to me, so gaunt and lean a simple gust of wind would throw him to the ground. It was all an illusion though. I’d spent enough time among warriors to sense the depths of hidden strength and lethal precision that the man carried within him. His daughter, Erika, came along while carrying a heavy bag on her back; her adoptive father would have an easier time transporting it, but I assumed she refused to let him carry it so soon after he left the hospital.

Mersie and her butler Camilus followed closely behind. She wouldn’t let Chronius escape her baleful gaze for a second, and her twitching fingers informed me that my contract struggled to keep her from attacking him on sight. Erika often glanced at Mersie over her shoulder; she could sense the murderous hostility and didn’t know enough about my power to trust it to prevent hostilities. Only Camilus appeared calm among this motley crew.

Soraseo and Eris closed the march last. The former’s grim scowl told me everything I needed to know about her mood. I must have looked the same when I saw Snowdrift’s downward spiral with my own eyes.

She greatly cared for her homeland, even after it rejected her.

“Welcome aboard the Colmar!” I greeted them in front of our ship’s entrance. “We’ll soon leave on a one-way trip to Goldport! Make sure you’ve brought all your belongings before our flight!”

“Should we subscribe to a lost luggage insurance policy first, Robin?” Eris teased me back. “Every good shipping company has one.”

“We’re still finalizing the details,” I joked back. I didn’t miss the glances Mersie sent us. “Please accept free drinks as an apology.”

“Only if they’re good.”

Erika whistled upon observing the Colmar closer. “Can this thing really fly without wings?”

Chronius studied the structure for a moment before answering his daughter. “Hot air and wind essence fill the balloon until it can lift the ship’s weight,” he guessed. “They’re carrying heavy-weight cargo.”

“A live stonetusk, to be precise,” I replied. “You have a good eye, if you’ll forgive my wording.”

Chronius shrugged, much to his daughter’s amusement. “You know, I always hoped to meet with Heroes after Dad received his mark,” she told me. “You aren’t how I imagined the Merchant to be, Lord Robin.”

“You imagined a big-bellied banker with a rounded hat, mayhaps?” Her blush amused me to no end. “You did?”

“I thought you’d be old,” she replied with sheepish embarrassment, before following it with a bow; mostly to hide her crimson cheeks. “I swear I won’t be a burden to you or Dad.”

“You won’t be,” her father said, his voice suddenly a bit colder than before. “Go. I’ll follow soon.”

Erika tensed up, her gaze wandering from her adoptive father to Mersie. She didn’t miss the glare the latter sent the former. “Dad, are you sure?”

“Go,” Chronius repeated a bit more firmly. “I’ll be fine.”

Erika opened her mouth to protest, but a dark look from Chronius silenced her. I reassured her with a nod of my own. Nothing would happen under our watch.

“Let me show you around,” Eris said as she grabbed Erika’s hand before she figured out what to do next. “This place is a maze, and we don’t want you to fall off the rail.”

Mersie sent a glance to her Butler, who quickly followed after Erika with his mistress’ own luggage. They disappeared with Eris inside the airship’s entrails, leaving Soraseo and I alone with our feuding teammates.

“You didn’t tell her,” Mersie said, her voice brimming with hatred. “What you did.”

“I… I couldn’t bring myself to do so,” Chronius replied as he turned to face Mersie. He answered her venomous hatred with guilt and sorrow. “I am sorry. I understand that my words mean nothing to you, but I am sincere. If I could bring your family back–”

“But you can’t.” Mersie spat on the ground. “Your daughter and our fellow Heroes are the only reason I agreed to spare you for now. If you give me any reason—any reason—to think you’re straying back into your old habits, then I will destroy you, contract or not. Remember it.”

Chronius scowled, then nodded in assent. He didn’t have the will to contest her judgment. He knew he deserved her hatred.

“Are you sure you want to bring your daughter along?” I asked in an attempt to change the subject. I didn’t mind bringing family members—we carried Little Beni with us long before he gained a mark of his own—but Erika would be far safer in Erebia than Goldport. “We will not return to Wisepeak anytime soon.”

“She didn’t leave me any choice,” Chronius replied gruffly. “She thinks I’ll get myself killed without supervision.”

Mersie sneered in disdain. “You won’t get off that easily.”

“What about your…” I cleared my throat. “Compulsions?”

“The urge is… gone,” Chronius replied, albeit with some skepticism. “For now at least. It always comes back.”

“Your compulsions are gone for good.” I used my power to seal them inside a fruit, to ensure it would rot away and take that odious mental illness with it. I couldn’t see any scenario that warranted keeping an urge to murder others in my stock. “Your future’s in your own hands. Any action you take from now is your choice alone.”

Chronius’ jaw clenched slightly. “So will my regrets.”

“Good,” Mersie said icily. “I won’t accept any excuses from you.”

“I understand.” Chronius gathered his breath. “What will you have me do then?”

Mersie snorted. “Get out of my sight for a start.”

Chronius waited a second, and then stepped into the Colmar without another word. Mersie watched him disappear inside the ship, her baleful glare only softening once he was truly gone.

“So,” she told me, smiling slightly. “You and Eris?”

“Yes,” I replied, though her question did cause a slight surge of sorrow to course through my chest. Mersie’s eyes brimmed with regrets. She knew our chance to become a couple had long flown by. “You’re still one of my best friends. That will never change.”

“A meager consolation,” Mersie replied with what could pass for acceptance. I guessed she had made peace with it. “I appreciate it though, Robin, and your assistance in providing us with transportation.”

“We’ve decided to move to Goldport for supplies,” I replied. “I figured that since you intended to lift your house’s Blight, we could give you a lift to it.”

Mersie’s gaze darkened. “It has been so long since I visited that place, Robin. I’m afraid of what… of who I’ll find there.”

I hesitated an instant, then embraced her into a tight hug. She returned it quickly, her graceful arms closing around my back in a tight grip. For a brief instant, I didn’t hold the fearsome Assassin, but a wounded victim burdened with a terrible past too heavy for her to carry alone.

“We’ll help you,” I promised Mersie. “You won’t do it alone. It’s not our first time exorcizing a Blight.”

“We have slain many demons,” Soraseo added. “We will put yours to rest, Lady Mersie.”

“Thank you.” Mersie let go of me, her fingers soon wiping away newborn tears before they could truly form. “I’m… I’m sorry. I’m exhausted.”

“Don’t apologize,” I comforted her. “Go sleep, if that’s what you need. I’ll wake you up once we reach Goldport.”

“You are kind, Robin, but I’ll pass.” Mersie looked up at the clouds above us. “I want to see the sky.”

“You’ll love it,” I said. Mersie smiled sadly and then walked into the Colmar. I turned to Soraseo as we prepared to board ourselves. “Are you ready to return home?”

Soraseo shook her head. “No, Robin, I am not. But I must.”

I figured as much. “I’m here if you need a listening ear.”

“What use is an ear that does not listen?” Soraseo replied with a hand on her sword’s pommel. She appeared to briefly hesitate about telling me something before taking me up on my offer. “My brother… my brother was there that day.”

My heart skipped a beat. “When you…”

I was afraid to complete my sentence and say it out loud, so Soraseo finished it for me.

“When I slew my mother.” My friend looked away in guilt. “He was there. He saw it.”

The new emperor wouldn’t be giving us a Hero’s welcome.

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