De Meca Castle
The warehouse of the Arclay Trading Company that they reached by following Arclay was several times larger than the underground vault of the dark guild. It was apparently an unused space they kept empty.
“In truth, all the goods the company handles are stored in separate warehouses. This one is essentially spare space.”
It seemed they earned enough to live like kings; besides this one, several other warehouses stood vacant. They had torn down every unused building and built on the cleared land, so the location itself had been chosen wisely.
“This facility is guarded by soldiers under exclusive contract with the company. There is no chance of theft. All of this is thanks to Lord Bagan and Lady Elizabeth, so I can only offer my deepest gratitude.”
Hearing that security was airtight only reinforced Bagan’s decision to entrust everything here. The dark guild was gone now, so the immediate threat of robbery had vanished, but there was no telling when some other faction might set its sights on them. The Arclay Trading Company essentially held the purse strings of De Meca these days; it was only natural that it would have many enemies.
“You’ll be leaving the items here, then? I must admit I’m curious about the scale.”
“You’re not wondering why I came empty-handed?”
Arclay offered a merchant’s shrewd reply. “I am a merchant, not a mage or swordsman. What use would it be for me to speculate about Lord Bagan’s abilities? A merchant sees the world through coin and lives by trust.”
It was a fair point. Bagan nodded and emptied the subspace that held every treasure and coin he had taken from the dark guild.
“Incredible. I cannot even begin to imagine what the dark guild has been doing all these years. The sheer size of the organization defies comprehension.”
The endless stream of treasures and gold coins left Arclay’s jaw hanging open. “I find myself wondering how they could have amassed such wealth.”
“So there are things even a merchant can learn from the dark guild?”
“When it comes to generating profit, there is much to learn. Especially as the head of an organization myself, the operational characteristics of a group like the dark guild are worth studying.”
“For example?”
“Well, the way they split tasks too large for one group among several organizations, consolidate the profits, and then redistribute them left quite an impression.”
Arclay was a merchant always ready to learn, even if the lesson came from a criminal syndicate.
“Still, don’t copy the dark guild. You’ll only pick up bad habits.”
Bagan spoke as if he were already connected to the Arclay Trading Company. Arclay nodded in understanding and continued.
“I will have everything appraised and properly stored. You may retrieve it whenever you wish, Lord Bagan. I will inform the staff.”
“Got it.”
At a single gesture from Arclay, the clerks swarmed the valuables and began counting. Bagan turned and left the building.
“Then I look forward to our next meeting. Please visit anytime!”
Arclay bowed deeply. Bagan simply waved in return.
A few days later, the day Bagan had been waiting for finally arrived.
(It’s today, huh?)
“Hm? Oh, right.”
(You weren’t nervous at all before. Why is your body so stiff?)
“Vidi…”
(Vidi?)
Sally was dying of curiosity. She couldn’t understand what had gotten into him.
“I didn’t expect Lord Vidion to be at the dinner as well.”
(That’s what this is about? I truly couldn’t have guessed.)
Sally let out a disbelieving laugh and spoke to him.
(No matter how I look at it, you’re clearly not weaker than Vidion. So why are you so scared?)
“Scared? This is reverence.”
Today was the day he would meet the lord of De Meca—one of the Seiros royal family—as Gion had arranged. It was rare for a mere adventurer to receive an audience with a lord, but Gion’s influence had made it possible.
The lord of De Meca was Montihall. Taking advantage of the long lifespan typical of Dragonians, he had protected the city for many years. The people of De Meca trusted and respected him deeply. Even his daughter Lilia, who had been named his successor, was beloved by all. De Meca was a city that had nothing left but blessings.
(So what exactly are you planning to do?)
Sally asked how he intended to explain the details of his long-cherished wish, and how he would ask for their help. Gion had surely already told them about Bagan. Gion was not the type to do things halfway, and introducing someone like Bagan to royalty would have required revealing every relevant fact—from his identity to his beliefs and ideology.
Yet Bagan’s mind was completely blank, consumed by the single thought of sharing a table with Vidion.
“Today I have to tell him I respect him.”
(Ugh, fine. Do whatever you want!)
Sally offered half-hearted encouragement to Bagan, who had completely missed the point of her question and hadn’t even understood it in the first place.
Preparations were complete. Bagan rose from his seat. Sally, who had been reading at the desk, followed him. He left the inn and headed straight for De Meca Castle.
Though it could have been placed in the bustling downtown, De Meca Castle stood on the city’s outskirts. The city itself was built with double walls; the outermost barrier met the castle’s own fortifications. Gates led west into the Zairan Forest, east toward De Pruna and De Seiran, and south to De Marinda. Because the castle occupied the northern sector, there was no gate through the wall in that direction.
In the end, there was only one way to reach De Meca Castle: head north and follow the tallest spire.
Bagan tried to walk at a leisurely pace, but tension and swelling anticipation quickened his steps. Sally shook her head, clearly giving up on trying to calm him.
De Meca Castle was remarkably refined, as befitted the residence of both the city lord and royalty. Its walls stood even more imposingly than the ones encircling the entire city, and beyond them lay a deep moat whose bottom could not be seen.
After circling the moat, they reached the gate. What should have been a gate was in fact a bridge, guarded by soldiers. As Bagan approached, they leveled their spears to bar his path.
“What is your business at De Meca Castle?”
Their tone was precise and courteous, as expected of professional soldiers. Rather than sending him away outright, they asked his reason for coming. It seemed they had been given advance notice.
“I was invited to dinner.”
Bagan stated his purpose. The soldier, already informed, asked for his name.
“Your name, please?”
“Bagan.”
“Confirmed.”
After a quick glance at his appearance, the soldier apparently verified his identity and blew the whistle hanging from his neck.
Tweet!
A soldier emerged from inside the castle and crossed the bridge. He wore the same uniform as the gate guards.
“Please follow me. Enter with care.”
As expected, his duty was to escort Bagan all the way to the main keep. Bagan gave a light nod and followed the soldier who had turned to lead the way.
Once Bagan was fully inside, the gate rumbled shut with a heavy sound, sealing itself as though it would permit no invasion. It had probably been closed because all the invited guests had arrived.
Inside, the base of the tallest spire came into view. Built so high it looked like a standalone structure, it was in fact simply one element of the castle complex. Below the spire lay a mansion constructed in luxurious style, its decorative features immediately catching the eye. The meticulously manicured gardens visible on the way to the main entrance were impressive as well.
It really is just like I remembered.
This wasn’t his first visit, but he had wanted to see it with his own eyes rather than through graphics. After following the soldier at a leisurely pace, Bagan finally met Montihall’s most trusted aide.
“We have been expecting you, Lord Bagan. Please follow me.”
Fitting for a Dragonian’s residence, the butler was a Hobgoblin. Dressed impeccably, his gold-rimmed monocle was particularly striking. What kind of goblin could look so distinguished?
“You must be Jipri.”
Bagan already knew of him. Hobgoblins were a race that had evolved both physically and mentally beyond ordinary goblins. Those who evolved even further were called King Goblins. Jipri belonged to that superior lineage. Normally he would have ruled a goblin tribe, yet here he served as butler of the mansion. There were even rumors that in his prime he had participated in wars and served as a strategic advisor to the De Meca army.
“You know me? It is a long life indeed when someone like Lord Bagan remembers my name.”
“No need to make it sound so grand.”
Feeling slightly embarrassed, Bagan straightened his clothes and stepped into the mansion. The interior was like any noble residence—luxurious lighting, red carpets, and beautiful sculptures and artworks arranged in perfect balance. There were so many things to look at that it was almost dizzying.
The difference from seeing it only in graphics was the ability to examine the pieces from every angle and notice every tiny detail. What caught his interest most was the chandelier. Gems sparkled as the fixture swayed, creating a precarious yet restrained beauty that made it both lighting and art. The light it cast was never glaring and illuminated the interior with perfect moderation.
“You’ve arrived?”
The person who spoke with a faint smile while watching Bagan crane his neck in every direction like a country bumpkin was Gion.
“Gion!”
Seeing a familiar face in this place felt incredibly welcome, like running into an old friend in a foreign land.
“My brother is waiting inside. Let’s head in.”
“Brother?”
Bagan wondered what kind of family tie existed between Gion and Montihall. Gion provided the answer himself.
“Ah, you didn’t know? Brother Montihall and I decided to address each other as sworn brothers.”
Bagan hadn’t expected that his fame as an adventurer would lead to such a connection. Gion had met Montihall long ago and maintained the relationship ever since; now they had become sworn brothers.
“I see.”
Simply hearing it was hard to grasp, but Montihall was Seiros Kingdom royalty—a Dragonian. He was not merely a lord but a member of the royal family, placing his status at the very top. For two people of such different stations to become sworn brothers was a truly historic event.
“Let’s go in.”
Jipri opened the dining room door. The neatly dressed Gion and Bagan stepped inside.
“Oh! It’s the dark guild!”
A tomboy’s stormy voice rang out.
“Where?!”
Vidion swiftly drew his spear and leveled it in the direction Lilia pointed.
“Ahem. There she goes again.”
Bagan smiled at the sight of the mischievous Lilia and the elegant, imposing Vidion. Between them sat Montihall de Kairos, radiating benevolence and mystery with an unreadable expression on his face. The fact that he had long since realized it was one of Lilia’s pranks and showed no particular reaction only added to the atmosphere.