Low-Fantasy Occultist

Chapter 458

Cassian frowned, and a flicker of genuine confusion broke through his arrogance. "That is impossible. Every earth-shaper in this town submitted notice yesterday. We have the contracts to prove—”

He stopped abruptly, realizing he had just admitted to coordinating the strike. Not that they needed confirmation, but it was nice to have it out in the open.

Right on cue, the double doors swung open again.

Emile Dunstonburough and Silas of the Polliver-Bolliver Conglomerate walked into the room. They looked entirely at ease, exuding a quiet satisfaction, like predators who had just secured a very bloody meal. Silas shot a triumphant smirk at the Valerius representative, while Emile merely adjusted his tailored cuffs, ignoring the man.

Cassian turned, and color rapidly drained from his face as he recognized his two greatest rivals standing in the stronghold of House Crowley.

"Lord Devon," Emile offered a crisp, elegant bow. "I am pleased to report that our contracted mages have broken ground at the camps. The foundations for the new housing sector will be completed by the end of the week.”

"And the timber is currently being cured to your specifications," Silas added, crossing his arms.

Cassian’s smug finally fell apart. He stepped back, his eyes darting between Devon and the two merchants. He seemed to realize that his shadow embargo had been bypassed by an alliance he never saw coming, turning what should have been a winning move into a very expensive mistake.

"This is a violation of the royal trade charters!" he sputtered, his face flushing a dark red with sudden rage. "You cannot simply lock an established Consortium out of the market! We have invested heavily in this territory! I will petition the Crown! I will bring the magistrates down upon your heads for unlawful discrimination!”

Devon reached beneath the table, pulled out the ledger, and set it on the table. The sound echoed through the quiet hall.

Cassian froze, his eyes locking onto the book. The flush in his cheeks vanished, replaced by an ashen pallor. He clearly recognized his clerk’s meticulous binding.

Ignoring his expression, Devon opened the ledger and casually flipped to the bookmarked pages.

"Garrick the Earth-shaper. Twelve gold pieces paid on the fourth of the month to feign illness," Devon read aloud, his voice ringing with cold, absolute authority. "Master Linus. Twenty gold pieces paid to return to the capital. Elara of the Stone Guild. Eighteen gold pieces…"

Devon closed the book, pinning the merchant with a hard stare. Given how raw his anger was, Nick thought he was doing a good job of holding back. Killing Cassian now would be a stupid mistake, after all.

"Investing in Floria would have seen you rewarded, but this is not that. You funded an illegal economic sabotage against a noble House during a time of crisis," Devon growled. “Worse, you bribed contracted workers to starve refugees in an attempt to extort the ruling family. That is an organized attack against the King’s Peace, beyond a trade violation that would strip your license. Appeal to the magistrates; we’ll see who walks out the victor!”

The two guards flanking Cassian shifted nervously, their hands falling away from their swords. They were smart enough to realize their employer was standing on the gallows’ edge, and they had no intention of hanging with him.

"It... that is a forgery," Cassian whispered weakly, but couldn’t even muster the conviction to sound certain.

"We both know it is not," Devon said softly, leaning forward. "And we both know that if I send this ledger to the Royal Courts, the Valerius Consortium will spend the next decade defending itself against lawsuits. Your union would bleed gold until it collapsed.”

That was probably an exaggeration. The Valerius Consortium was entrenched enough in Berea’s economy to make its excision very painful for everyone, but that didn’t mean the process would be easy. They’d come out of it having lost a lot, and that was all that mattered.

"House Crowley does not wish to engage in a protracted war with the Valerius Consortium," Devon continued, offering a very narrow bridge for retreat. "We respect your union's good reputation and wouldn’t want to see it besmirched. But we will not be extorted in our own home. This ledger will remain in our vault, and as long as the Consortium ceases all operations in Floria, drops its demands, and departs our territory by nightfall, it will never see the light of day.”

Cassian stared at the young Lord, finally seeing the full picture. They had been dancing around him all the while, and now Devon was holding the blade to the Consortium's throat, offering them the choice to walk away quietly.

In time, a couple of years at the very least, the value of such a ledger would fall as people’s memories and accounts became muddled, allowing Valerius the space to maneuver around them, but for the moment, they were trapped.

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“Yes, leave the frontier to us," Silas chimed in, twisting the knife with a dark grin. “This place is a bit too rough-and-tumble for your usual methods anyway.”

Cassian looked at the ledger, then at Devon, and finally at the silent figure of Nick standing in the shadows, apparently having noticed him at some point. That was more spatial awareness than he would have expected.

Eventually, the merchant bowed his head, the fight completely drained out of him.

When the potential loss of profit was weighed against the very real risk of losing everything, there was only one viable option, even if it would likely mean demotion and a quick end to his rise within the Consortium’s ranks.

"We will... we will depart by nightfall," he rasped.

"See that you do," Devon replied firmly.

Without looking anyone in the eye, Cassian turned on his heel and hurried from the hall, his guards trailing behind him, eager to put as much distance as possible between themselves and the Crowley family.

Once they were sure he was gone and Nick had swept the manor with his senses to ensure no enchanted artifact was left behind to spy on them, Devon turned his attention to the other guests.

Emile and Silas offered Devon a respectful bow. They were integral to this operation and would reap many benefits down the line, but there was a reason they’d been allowed to witness Valerius’s humiliation.

It would serve as a reminder that they, too, could fall just as easily if they got on House Crowley’s bad side.

Fortunately, they were smart enough to realize it.

"A brilliant resolution to a thorny problem, my Lord," Emile praised smoothly. "We look forward to a highly profitable partnership.”

“Just ensure your mages stick to the schedule," Devon warned. "Floria welcomes honest trade, and as long as it remains honest, we see no need to involve ourselves.”

The two merchants took their leave, eager to finalize their new contracts and count their impending fortunes.

As the doors closed behind them, Nick stepped out of the shadows. He walked over to his brother, a genuine smile spreading across his face.

“That was well done," Nick said.

Devon let out a long, slow breath as the tension finally left his shoulders. He slumped against the table, shaking his head with a tired laugh. "I thought my heart was going to beat its way out of my chest when he threatened to call the magistrates. We would have won, but it would have been so annoying to deal with, especially since they have so many more connections than we do."

"He had nothing but bluster, and you gave him a golden chance to retreat," Nick assured him. "You handled it well. They will lick their wounds, and by the time they’re back for round two, Dad should be back, and you will be able to watch from the sidelines.”

With that last problem handled, Nick finally relaxed. There was still some time before he had to leave, and he would have to make good use of the reprieve because he doubted he’d get another once he left.

He still needed to consolidate his new foundation before they marched toward Toneburg.

"I need to test a couple of new tricks," he said, looking toward the wide windows that opened onto the manor's training yards. "Do you think Mother is occupied?”

Devon chuckled, following his gaze. "She has been doing paperwork for two straight days. If you offer her a chance to hit something, she might just name you Heir.”

“Ugh, don’t even joke about that,” Nick replied with a shudder. No way was he getting entangled in politics any more than he absolutely had to.

The new training yard was a wide expanse of hard-packed earth, surrounded by high stone walls. Runic enchantments covered the area, preventing magic or martial skills from spilling out and damaging the manor, but it was still a private area for the ruling family, so almost no one was in the vicinity.

We have a perfectly good underground training room with even better enchantments, since I made it myself, but I guess Mom prefers training in the open.

It wasn’t something he could understand, but he was aware that mages were far more secretive than martial classes, and that Occultists were most of all.

Elena stood in the center of the yard, dressed in weighted leather training gear. She held a blunted practice sword, though in her hands the dull steel felt as dangerous as a honed razor. She rolled her shoulders, her expression shuttering and losing all warmth.

Nick stood twenty paces away, his staff resting casually in his right hand. He wore his standard clothes, as this was supposed to be training for when he’d face warriors on the road.

Using padded and enchanted gear he wouldn’t have on hand would defeat the purpose.

"You have developed another affinity," Elena noted, assessing the subtle shifts in his aura.

“It is a recent development,” Nick confirmed, understating the matter quite a bit. His fire magic was still extremely raw, but fortunately, he could make up for it with his iron control.

"Show me," Elena said simply, lowering herself into a predatory stance.

Nick didn't dare play around, as his mother had trained alongside his father for decades and would be very familiar with his new element.

A roaring wave of orange fire erupted from his empty hand, and he wove his wind magic into the flames, creating a heat wave that swept across the yard with terrifying speed.

Elena crossed the distance in a fraction of a second, moving far faster than Devon. Her footwork generated invisible winds that pulled his flames apart and dragged at Nick’s balance the moment she entered his personal space.

He stumbled slightly but chose to focus on regathering the heatwave rather than stabilizing his body.

As the fire threatened to consume her, Elena swung her blade, and a faint golden-green glow of mana coated the steel. It sliced directly into the spell, dispersing the mana within it, and within moments, the roaring flames were neutralized, bursting into a rush of warm air.

Before Nick could recover his balance, Elena was inside his guard, sweeping her blunted sword toward his ribs with enough force to break them.

But he had expected his first attack to fail, and snapped his staff down, catching the steel with a resounding crack.

The sheer impact still sent him staggering back.

Despite relying heavily on speed and technique, his mother was far stronger than he was. The blow sent a shudder up Nick's arms, forcing him to slide backward through the dirt.

"You can do better than that," Elena criticized sharply, pressing the attack. She moved like a phantom, her Stalking Gait creating disruptive pressure pockets that made it difficult for Nick to predict her angle of approach and disrupted his own air sense. "If you are fighting a swordman, you cannot give them the opportunity to disrupt your spell structures.”

Nick grunted, parrying a thrust aimed at his shoulder as he channeled his wind magic downward, creating a sudden updraft that launched him backward, putting ten paces between them and forcing her to disengage with a barrage of [Fireballs].

"Noted," Nick breathed as he watched her cut through them, waltzing among the flames like a dancer.

Welp, it looks like I might have to get serious.