On the highest point of Misty Bay Harbor, atop the mage tower, Archmage Samuel Emerson slowly set down his staff, and the faint golden Hawk Eye magic glow in his eyes dimmed along with it.
The Merchant Alliance was far from ignorant about the skirmish that had occurred in Coral Lane. On the contrary, in a city that lived and breathed commerce and intelligence, countless eyes were watching that area through every possible channel.
He did not bother to question why these visitors from the Slime Kingdom had arrived without prior notice, because it would be pointless.
These adventurers from a distant land were backed by a vast and mysterious monster kingdom, and they had already displayed hidden powers.
Offending these slimes would not necessarily win the Council’s support, but it would certainly bring trouble on his own head.
Because of historical reasons tied to the Dawn Alliance, the relationship between the Misty Bay Harbor Merchant Alliance and the mage community had always been delicate. He had only been able to erect this tall mage tower in a trading port city that resented mages and to secure a relatively independent status by virtue of his outstanding magical talent and by striking certain agreements and exchanges with the three major merchant houses back then.
But even as an archmage, compared to those entrenched merchants and hereditary nobles, he remained an outsider who could never truly integrate into the inner circle.
Perhaps, one day in the future, he would return to the Holy Silver Kingdom—the most prosperous southern magic realm—with accumulated wealth and research achievements. But not now.
Mages in the south did enjoy high status, that much was true, but that applied to the old-school Dawn mages. New-generation mages like him could hardly wrest a piece of influence from those old hands.
Meditation and spell practice, building a mage tower, conducting experiments and research—all required huge financial backing, and that was exactly what the Misty Bay Harbor Merchant Alliance had promised him in the first place.Although he felt no sense of belonging to this money-stinking city, he had reasons he could not leave, and he had reasons to remain silent about the Slime adventurers’ actions.
Samuel waved his hand and instructed the young mage who was copying a magical report at the side: “Child, deliver this report to the Council Secretariat, then keep silent in today’s Council galleries. Remember, this is Visaji land; they will not give any unnecessary tolerance or trust to us outsiders.”
“Yes, Master.”
The mage went to the watch platform’s desk, carefully rolled up the report the magical quill had automatically written, tied it with a ribbon, slipped it into the lining of his roomy mage robe, and then left the room.
Samuel paid no attention to his departure. His gaze remained fixed on the view before him.
The harbor’s weather was unusually fine today. Winter sunlight broke free from the usual gloom, becoming bright and generous, scattering glittering shards of gold and white across the distant blue sea.
Merchant ships with colorful sails were slowly entering the port like busy worker ants moving in and out of the dock district. Gulls circled above the red-tiled, gray-walled harbor streets, crying out in clear voices.
He watched the light rising from Coral Lane dissipate completely; only a few wisps of black smoke still curled upward, soon blown away by the sea wind.
The skirmish was over.
“Dragon Slime… perhaps that distant Slime realm is worth visiting. I hope their majesty is as amiable as the rumors say, at least keeping a friendly face to outsiders.”
As for the New Xirik Society… to be honest, Samuel had only recently heard that name occasionally from Council nobles or merchant guests.
They appeared initially as generous investors, even once discreetly conveying the society’s “goodwill” through intermediaries, boasting their willingness to donate a substantial sum for my mage tower’s restoration.
I agreed.
Others might be dazzled by the glittering coins and seemingly benevolent doctrines, but I kept my distance. Those merchant fanatics worshipping the “White Sun” had no simple relationship with the northern White Horse Kingdom, and they might even be connected to those creatures emerging from the Shadow Mountains.
Thinking of the demonic armies laying waste in the White Horse Kingdom, it was hard for me to equate those fanatics with demons.
Shadow walkers, by the nature of their power, tend toward chaos and evil, collaborating with demons to seize power and overturn order… that sort of thing is practically the “standard operating procedure” for them.
We have not yet toppled an ancient kingdom; perhaps Misty Bay Harbor is not next.
Even if the sudden rise of the New Xirik Society will come slowly, those merchants and nobles are far too greedy—so greedy they would harm Xirik’s interests for profit.
Today, one Visaji foothold was uprooted; tomorrow, more footholds would sprout like fungal growth outside laboratories—touch a drop of magical solvent and they burst forth.
Samuel shook his head.
The Visaji homeland was a joke. These merchants had no loyalty to the Merchant Alliance; they only cared about profit, not honor.
Soon, when a real crisis arrives, they will revert to being itinerant traders as their ancestors were in the history books, homeless and wandering.
Maybe I should sooner find an escape route for myself and for the apprentices and assistants who follow me in this tower.
He turned and summoned another apprentice, younger and tidier, who was arranging star charts not far away.
“Ryan.” Samuel patted the thin shoulder of the young apprentice, his tone a touch softer than usual. “Tomorrow the mage tower will organize a small caravan under the pretext of procuring specific magical materials and depart the Alliance. Captain Novv will be responsible for escort and guidance.”
Ryan looked up, puzzled. Procuring materials usually didn’t require special notice to him.
Samuel continued, “I need you to go with the caravan.”
“To record the real situation there as thoroughly as possible—the roads, security, settlements… I want to know exactly what has changed. Also, I need you to gauge the Slime Kingdom’s wealth, how they treat outsiders, and whether cooperation is possible.”
Ryan was stunned for a moment, then quickly understood his mentor’s intention. He nodded: “Yes, Master. I promise I will not disclose our movements and purpose to those Visaji merchants.”
Samuel expressed relief: “Good. Prepare well, bring necessary recording tools and protective gear. Remember: observe first, safety foremost.”
“We won’t be returning to the Dawn lands so soon—at least not until we achieve real results. We will not go back there to endure their arrogance and exclusion.”
“Before that, we must find a stable place to settle.”
“Of course,” he added with a slight smile, “provided the people there respect knowledge.”
Ryan curiously asked, “Master, should we focus on investigating the local academy or magical education situation?”
In his naive thinking, places that respected knowledge must surely have developed academy systems.
Samuel let out an amused cough: “Child, there are many ways to respect knowledge. Building grand libraries or offering uninterrupted environments and abundant experimental resources to mages counts, but what we need most is sufficient and stable funding.”
Ryan realized with a blush.
Before joining the mage tower, he had thought magic was sacred and noble, a realm for the most sanctified souls to touch.
Later he learned that arcana required money too. It needed merchants who understood and valued magic to provide support.
Although he had never attended the nobles’ and merchants’ balls—his master forbade it—he knew that reality did not always indulge one’s fantasies.
Even the most imaginative constructs needed material foundations. To build a powerful magical construct, every etched rune, every embedded mana crystal, every rare metal smelted cost massive amounts of gold coins.