Book 6: Chapter 63: The Future

The aroma of fresh ink, roasted nuts, and old paper drifted through the study.

A pot of tea steamed gently between two mismatched cups, one of them chipped, the other pristine. Zeke lounged in the leather-backed chair near the hearth, one leg slung casually over the other, a half-read ledger resting on his knee. His robes lay folded over the armrest, and his boots had been kicked off somewhere near the door.

It was the first moment all day he’d allowed himself to relax.

Across from him, David poured tea with the same calm precision he applied to everything, though he had also made himself comfortable. It was a sight he had never seen before. The butler’s gloves were off, sleeves rolled, and a burning cigar was clenched between his teeth, its scent rich with exotic herbs.

“That went better than expected,” Zeke said, his voice light as he accepted his cup.

David tilted his head. “Which part? The bit where one of the most powerful men in Tradespire dropped dead mid-hearing? Or the one where you claimed one of the most politically inflammatory names on the continent?”

Zeke sipped his tea. “Both.”

David gave a short laugh. “It went well indeed.”

They shared a grin, quiet and easy.

For the first time in days, there was no pressure. No looming questions. Just warmth, lamplight, and the pleasant hum of life beyond the thick study walls.

Zeke set his cup down and stretched, his spine popping. “So. You decided to advance without consulting me first?”

David grinned. “I took the vials of Dreamwalker brew as implied permission, young Lord.”

Zeke nodded. “They were, but I didn’t think you would actually go through with it. You could have ended up crippled.”

David’s grin faded slightly. “Things were tense. I didn’t think I even had the ability to negotiate with those people without at least reaching this level.”

Zeke fell silent. He wasn’t a fool; he understood what that meant. David had taken the risk of failing his advancement because the situation had demanded it. His loyalty to the mission had demanded it.

“Thank you,” he said sincerely.

David chuckled. “This was the greatest gift I’ve ever received, my Lord. If thanks are needed, they should be coming from me.”

Zeke shook his head but didn’t argue. There was no point in trying to figure out who owed the other more. He liked to believe their relationship had moved past that.

His thoughts turned to Undercity and the contracts David had negotiated.

“How is the situation now?”

David’s expression turned serious. “It is unlike anything I’ve ever seen. Since the dwarves arrived, new life has been breathed into every corner.”

Zeke’s brows furrowed. That was more than he expected. “In what sense?”

David chuckled, as if the memory itself amused him. “Well, for one, the dwarven instructors took quite a liking to the place.”

Zeke leaned in, curious to hear more.

“They mentioned something about soil quality and rare minerals deep underground. But when they saw the city itself, they were appalled.”

Zeke grinned. He could easily imagine what elite dwarven artisans thought of the ramshackle constructions that made up Undercity. Aside from a few monuments like the Black Tower, the place resembled a slum more than a proper city.

“We had started renovations, but they were all torn down shortly after their arrival,” David explained with a grin. “Not up to standards, apparently. I had them draft new plans for the entire city.”

“…And they agreed to that?” Zeke asked, genuinely surprised. “That sounds like a lot of work.”

David shrugged. “When I told them we had an almost infinite amount of manpower and no building restrictions, the instructors went wild.”

Zeke gave David an impressed nod. The butler clearly hadn’t spent his time idle while living with the dwarves, knowing exactly which buttons to push to keep them motivated.

“How is that going?”

“I cannot say,” the man replied. “You called me back before the actual building process could start.”

Zeke looked a bit sheepish at that. “I apologize, but I didn’t trust a letter to make quite the same impression as having you there in person.”

David nodded, his expression turning serious. “I believe that was wise, young lord. Some of these merchants had quite a few things to say at your hearing.”

“I had expected as much,” Zeke said, his own expression growing weary. “It would have been more surprising if the Empire hadn’t managed to infiltrate the council to some degree, but I was still caught off guard by the extent of their influence.”

“They shouldn’t be able to do much anymore, now that you have been officially recognized as a Merchant Lord.”

“That remains to be seen,” Zeke said, not quite as optimistic. “But at least we have some level of protection.”

They both fell silent after that.

“…That was a nice touch at the end,” David said after a moment.

Zeke looked at him. “Which part?”

“The challenge. Maximilian would have approved of it.”

Zeke studied the butler, remembering the question he had meant to ask for some time. “You know him? Azra?”

David’s expression grew complicated. “I did, a long time ago.”

Zeke remained quiet, giving him space to gather his thoughts.

David sank into the couch, taking a deep drag from his cigar, and then watching the smoke rise above his head.

“He was a talented Mage—much like yourself,” David said after a while. “But his true passion wasn’t magic, as it turned out. No, Azra cared more about climbing the social ladder. And he was good at it.”

A small smile flickered across David’s face.

“The boy was charming and confident, and it didn’t take him long to fit in with almost everyone. Feuerkranz, Windtänzer, Steiner, and Wellenrufer—heck, even some of the Geistreich were in his circle.”

Zeke frowned. “Seems like he was quite the opposite of me in that regard.”

David shot him a look. “You could have done the same, young lord, if you had tried.”

Zeke stayed silent, choosing not to comment. He had been more than a handful during his time at the academy. With Maximilian at his back, he hadn’t feared anyone or anything. Naturally, that kind of attitude hadn’t sat well with the spoiled scions of noble houses.

But there was no changing the past.

“So?” he asked instead. “What happened that would make Maximilian disown him?”

David shook his head. “It wasn’t like that. Maximilian never disowned him.”

“Then?”

David sighed. “Azra rejected his position and renounced his claim to the von Hohenheim name of his own accord.”

“Why would he do that?”

David shrugged. “I can’t say for certain, but most likely, he got a better offer from someone. Maybe one of the heads of the great families, or even one of the Geistreichs.”

Zeke filed that piece of information away for later, but there was something far more important he needed to know now.

“How do you think he’ll react to my declaration?”

David grinned. “Poorly. Public perception has always mattered to that boy, and I doubt that’s changed. I can’t say how, but he’ll definitely take you up on that challenge. One way or another.”

Zeke nodded, a grin spreading across his own face. That suited him just fine. Though he didn’t doubt that Azra was a competent mage—and brilliant in other areas as well—Zeke didn’t fear him. And with each passing day, he feared him even less.

Construction on a new Mana Purifying Device was already underway, and now, with the cube in his possession, his progress would only accelerate. With those two tools, the time when he would no longer need to fear anyone below the Archmage level wasn’t far off.

“I’ll be ready,” he said confidently.

David nodded, evidently not questioning his declaration in the slightest.

The man chuckled lightly. “Can you believe it, young lord? Margret actually managed to get a trade contract from those stiff-backed long ears.”

Zeke did a double-take. It was still strange to hear such words coming from David. Not long ago, the man had been the very embodiment of what he had just described—stiff, rigid, inflexible. The elves would have loved him.

It was hard to reconcile that image with the man now slouched casually on a leather couch, blowing clumsy rings of smoke toward the ceiling with a dopey smile on his face.

He wasn’t wrong, though.

Zeke had held out some hope for David's success, given he had had the full backing of Undercity behind him. He’d been in a strong position to negotiate. The same couldn’t be said for Margret. It wouldn’t have been an overstatement to say she’d been sent with nothing.

Even so, she had fulfilled her role beautifully.

“…She implied there were strings attached,” Zeke said after a moment. “And I should only use them if necessary.”

David took another drag from his cigar. “It seemed pretty necessary to me.”

Zeke nodded, a frown forming. “I didn’t think they would actually reject Winter’s contract like that, even after feeling his power firsthand.”

He saw David shudder slightly at the memory. “That was bold indeed. That Lord Fies had more courage than I expected from a merchant.”

Zeke scoffed. “I’m not sure I’d call it courage anymore, not after seeing how it ended...”

David nodded firmly. “To disrespect the King of the Dead so publicly can’t be called bravery. Only foolishness.” He gave Zeke a look, a complicated expression on his face. “The same might be said about you, young lord.”

Zeke furrowed his brow. “Me? In what way?”

David gave him a look. “Lord Fies might have been bold in words, but his reasoning wasn’t hard to follow. Who would believe that a boy your age was rubbing shoulders with not one, but two nation-toppling powerhouses? And the last time I checked, we didn’t have any connections to either of them.”

Zeke offered a helpless smile. “Would you believe me if I told you I just happened to meet them?”

David’s expression was answer enough.

“…It’s the truth, though,” he said with a defeated sigh. “I sought out none of them. Not Winter. Not Sheol. And not Cassius. Somehow, these kinds of people just keep finding me.”

“Cassius?” David repeated, immediately catching the name. “Cassius Leafless?”

Zeke nodded. “You know him?”

“I met him once, when he visited Maximilian here in Tradespire. A brilliant man. Even the master respected him deeply for his insights.”

Zeke nodded along. “He did have some interesting theories about the origin of the Core and advancement. I learned a lot during our talks.”

To his surprise, David looked at him with utter bewilderment. “Talks? He… talked to you about his theories?”

Zeke rolled his eyes. “It was harder to get him to shut up once he started on the principles behind his growth magic. The man’s a chatterbox, let me tell you. I think he gets really lonely in that jungle.”

David stared at him as if he had grown a second head. “Cassius Leafless…?” he asked again. “The elven outcast?”

Zeke looked at him, confused. “Is there a second one?”

David shook his head—not in response to Zeke’s question, but as if he were denying reality itself. He took another drag from his cigar, staring blankly into the distance.

“Cassius Leafless,” he said after a while, “is a deeply arrogant man. So much so that even the elves couldn’t stand him anymore.” He gave Zeke a pointed look. “And that’s saying something. The man wouldn’t give an ordinary person the time of day.”

Zeke thought back to his experiences in Irroch. He hadn’t gotten that impression at all. Cassius had seemed like an open book, even producing the magical seeds needed to feed all of Undercity.

“I’m sure that’s just rumors…”

David shook his head. “I once asked him to give me some pointers. You know what he said?”

“What?”

“He said the amount of time I’d need to comprehend his words would be longer than my remaining lifespan,” David said with a frown.

Apparently, that comment had truly stuck with him.

“That could explain it though,” David said after a moment of silence.

“Explain what?”

“The sudden interest from the elves,” David said. “Even though Cassius has been exiled, there are many who still hold him in high regard. If he put in a good word, then it’s entirely possible someone took action to help you.”

Zeke considered that. It was possible.

“Let’s hope that’s the case. I don’t trust favors that fall from the sky. At least that would give a face to the debt I owe—and I’d far prefer it was Cassius than some elven bigshot with nebulous intentions.”

David nodded heavily. He evidently shared that sentiment.

“What are your plans now, young lord?”

Zeke leaned back in his chair, letting his thoughts drift toward the future. That was a good question.

For the first time in a long while, he had nothing urgent to address. No immediate fire to put out. No looming crisis on the horizon. He was free to pursue whatever he wished, at least for the foreseeable future.

His mind wandered to the World Anchor, still aboard the Alexandria as it made its way back to Tradespire. To the Mana Purifying Device, he would soon finish in his private workshop beneath the mansion. And finally, to the possibilities that came with his new title as Merchant Lord.

There were many paths to take, many moves to make, but they all served the same goal in the end.

“It is time to gather strength.”