"The Chosen Slayer? What kind of ridiculous title is that?" Anser's eyelid twitched. He immediately grasped the implication behind the nickname.
He glanced at Evan and, sure enough, saw a trace of gravity and discomfort in his expression.
Anyone who was one of the Chosen would instinctively dislike hearing that title. It was simply a matter of instinct.
For example, if you were reborn as a goblin and one day ran into someone known as the "Goblin Slayer," what would your first reaction be?
What had happened only last night had already spread across the entire city by early morning. You'd have to be an idiot not to realize someone was pulling strings behind the scenes.
Nefis frowned slightly. "Do we know who's spreading it?"
"One of our followers told me just now," Kristin replied. "The source is unclear, but the rumor itself is probably true."
"My guess is Emmanuel had his people do it. Such a clumsy attempt at driving a wedge between us," Osborn said angrily.
Anser remained silent. Stroking his chin, he thought of the Underbaron known as the Unknowable One, the figure who had backed Prince Emmanuel's bid for the throne.
Emmanuel had fled, but the Unknowable One's roots ran deep in Bral. There was no way he would abandon everything so easily.
The same went for everyone who had thrown their lot in with Emmanuel. They had all been dragged into this affair, and the Crown Prince would never let them off the hook. Over the coming days, he would purge them one by one.
Military officers and merchants were easy enough to deal with.
An Underbaron, however, was like a rat lurking in the sewers, deeply embedded among the common folk and exceedingly difficult to root out.
Anser decided that once the city's situation stabilized in a couple of days, he would gather everyone together for one massive cleanup.
They might not be able to identify ordinary civilians, but they could wipe out every disguised Mind Flayer in one sweep. Once the core members were gone, the remaining riffraff wouldn't amount to much.
"Let them say whatever they want. I'm a Paladin. I trust the Chosen to have enough judgment to think for themselves." He waved a hand dismissively, completely unconcerned.
He had to admit, being a Paladin was incredibly convenient.
If he'd only been a Sorcerer, people might have already branded him the sworn enemy of all Chosen.
Snapping out of his thoughts, Evan immediately declared, "Don't worry. I'll make a public statement to clear this up."
Anser neither agreed nor disagreed.
Once a rumor started spreading, trying to deny it or suppress it usually only made things worse.
Besides, it wasn't even a rumor.
The other side had been clever. They hadn't fabricated anything—they'd simply gone with the flow and attached a catchy title to it.
After chatting for a while longer, everyone dispersed.
The meeting Evan had organized came to an end, and the minor rumors did nothing to dampen everyone's spirits.
Anser and his group returned to Middle City. Guided by Osborn, the local expert, they headed to Middle City Avenue.
Middle City Avenue ran through the heart of the district, connecting Lower City and Upper City. It was the busiest street in the city, with many important buildings lining both sides.
The Elmandar's Star Charts, the Edge Tavern, the Great Market, the Mages' Guildhall, The Sindiath Line, the Valkan's Legion headquarters...
"Number 2173... Huh?" Osborn checked the address plaque again to make sure he hadn't made a mistake. "I know this place. Isn't this the headquarters of the Smith's Coster?"
Anser looked up at the two stone buildings before him, pleasantly surprised.
Located along the central stretch of Middle City Avenue, the four-story buildings stood side by side, each occupying roughly two hundred square meters. Behind each was a spacious courtyard, where stables and warehouses could be seen from the side.
Directly across the street lay the Great Market, the commercial heart of Middle City, packed with people. More than half of all retail trade in Bral took place there.
"A prime location."
He noticed the buildings had been given only a cursory cleaning. Bloodstains still lingered in the cracks between the paving stones, and fresh sword marks scarred the ground. The stains were so recent that the smell of blood hadn't completely faded.
"What kind of business was the Smith's Coster in?" he asked curiously.
"The Smith's Coster used to be the largest and most successful trading company in Bral..." Osborn began, unable to hide the admiration in his voice.
Not to mention the former glory of the Smith's Coster—even today, it remained a commercial giant. Its primary business was weapons, armor, and firearms, and it owned a merchant fleet along with several warships that escorted its convoys.
"Firearms?"
"That's right."
Anser stroked his chin, suspecting the Smith's Coster had some murky ties to Amn.
Otherwise, why would the Crown Prince make a commercial conglomerate one of his first targets? He hadn't even finished dealing with the royal family itself, the navy and army, or all those government officials.
Just then, two staff members recognized Anser. After carefully verifying his property deed, they handed him two sets of keys.
Anser casually tossed one set to Nefis.
"One building is yours."
Nefis blinked in surprise before smiling. "You're certainly generous. But there's no need to give it to us outright. The Magic Research Society will rent it."
If the Society wanted to support Brunhilde, it could no longer remain detached from worldly affairs as it had in the past. Having a permanent base here would make handling business much more convenient.
"Suit yourself." Anser waved dismissively.
He wasn't simply being extravagant.
The Magic Research Society might have appeared to do nothing, but its very presence served as an indispensable deterrent. The Crown Prince's willingness to compromise so readily undoubtedly had something to do with the Society.
Besides, having the Magic Research Society as a neighbor would make his own headquarters much safer.
The group unlocked the doors and inspected the stone buildings.
Everything inside was spotless. Aside from a small amount of furniture, the place had been stripped clean. Even the basement was completely empty.
Anser handed the keys to Osborn, instructing him to have the buildings thoroughly cleaned, purchase the necessary supplies, and recruit some staff.
This would become the official headquarters of the Union.
The ground floor would serve as retail space. Across the street stood the Great Market, while the courtyards contained warehouses. Once they hung up the Union's sign and stocked the shelves, they could open for business immediately.
Osborn would be in charge of operations in Bral.
The location was only two alleys away from the stone building housing the teleportation circle, making it convenient to keep an eye on as well.
The luckiest people, however, were undoubtedly General Smokefire, mayor of Giff-town, and the dwarf Bruno.
They had guarded the teleportation circle for just two days without shedding a single drop of blood, yet had earned permanent access to it.
Although they still had to pay operating costs, it was a privilege countless others could only dream of.
"I'm leaving this place in your hands. I've already notified Fort Jacqueline and Durlag to start preparing inventory. Once Bral settles down, we'll open for business." Anser grinned, already picturing a steady stream of profits pouring in.
As soon as the message went out, the councilors would take the initiative. Before long, goods would be flowing freely between Rock of Bral, Durlag, Fort Jacqueline, Dawn Town, White Stone Island, and Holrewen.
All he had to do was provide the trade network and collect the taxes.
Fort Jacqueline had no shortage of capable people and a complete commercial team. Iris could oversee both auditing and finance on their behalf.
Members of the Genius Adventuring Party also shared a common storage space, allowing them to participate in merchandise trading as well. However, besides paying taxes, they would also have to turn over half of their profits to the Party.
Iris had written that rule into the Adventuring Party handbook long ago.
He had to admit, she had remarkable foresight.
After finishing his instructions, Anser returned to his residence with Nefis and disabled most of the teleportation circle's access permissions.
Adventurers who had already arrived through the circle could still use it to return, but after that, they would no longer have unrestricted access.
The Society could still use it, but only if they stationed resident wizards there.
'I really need to hurry Quentin along. The Union's new regulations have to be finalized as soon as possible,' he thought.
Too much depended on his commercial empire to be careless.
It was also time to organize a meeting of the Union's senior leadership.
They needed to get acquainted with one another, and it would also be a good opportunity for him to show off his recent achievements—enough to keep everyone focused and prevent anyone from entertaining thoughts they shouldn't.
While planning both the Union's future and his own leveling strategy, he overheard yet another rumor:
It wasn't Prince Emmanuel who had murdered the king.
It was the Crown Prince.
'...That actually isn't impossible.' Remembering the old king's attitude toward Emmanuel, Anser suddenly felt the man hadn't died undeservedly.
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