Seven o'clock in the evening.
Under Vivienne's arrangements, Vincent took a carriage to an unassuming house on one of the residential streets of Backlund's Jowood District.
The furnishings inside were simple. A single gas lamp burned at the centre of the room, leaving the space in a dim overall gloom — which, according to Vivienne, helped the wild Beyonders attending the gathering feel safer.
Vivienne gestured toward an oversized sofa. "Your Majesty, this will be your seat for tonight's gathering."
"Mm."
Vincent crossed his legs and settled onto the sofa, then picked up the gold mask lying nearby and slipped it over his face.
"From now on — call me Kate."
"Understood, Miss Kate."
She gave a small nod, then held out an object with both hands. "This is an extraordinary item with the properties of a Notary. Any Beyonder below Demigod is bound by it. It can rapidly certify the authenticity of potion formulas, extraordinary ingredients, and other items, as well as verify the effects of extraordinary objects. That is a large part of why wild Beyonders are willing to attend these gatherings at all."
"Its drawback is that it cannot be used too continuously in a short span of time — otherwise the user will gradually become feverish and begin to lose all reason, eventually devolving into a lunatic who does nothing but praise the sun."
"Of course, its drawback will be considerably weakened in your case."
Maybe. Maybe not.
Before long, people began drifting into the room in ones and twos. Most of these wild Beyonders had concealed their faces and were clearly exercising maximum caution.
Most who spotted Vincent sitting in the host's chair reacted with puzzlement — but when they caught sight of Vivienne standing nearby, they swallowed their questions.
Before eight o'clock, every seat was already taken. Six or seven late additions were accommodated with improvised chairs. The roomful of people maintained a tacit silence — no idle chatter, no small talk — the only sounds in the parlour being the quiet rhythm of their collective breathing.
Vivienne stepped forward, drew out a pocket watch, glanced at it, and spoke: "The hour has arrived. We won't wait for any latecomers."
A voice called out: "Come on then, Vivienne, let's get on with it — I've been sitting here half an hour already."
"Quite right. You moved the gathering back by a whole day — it threw off every plan I had."
"Exactly."
"Who's the one sitting on the sofa? You're not the one hosting tonight, are you?"
Vivienne smiled. "This is Miss Kate, tonight's host. All transactions this evening will be witnessed and underwritten by her."
"Fine by me — I just want to offload what I've got."
"Same rules as before?"
Vincent gave the table a light tap. "Same rules — but tonight's transaction fee is halved. Let's begin."
A ripple of pleased reactions went through the room. That was welcome news.
A hoarse voice spoke up almost immediately:
"I have an extraordinary weapon for sale — a short sword. When it cuts, the wound bleeds without stopping and causes intense pain, which erodes the enemy's will to fight. It has approximately two years of use remaining. Three hundred pounds."
"I'll take it."
"I'll bid three hundred and ten."
"Three hundred and twenty."
After several rounds of bidding, the short sword sold for three hundred and thirty-five pounds. A serving attendant retrieved a short blade emitting a faint blue-grey glow and passed it to Vivienne, who forwarded it to Vincent.
Vincent produced the Notary's Seal and pressed it lightly against the short sword. In an instant, streaks of golden radiance burst outward, resolving into a projection shaped like a stamp.
"Genuine. Effective."
He announced the notarisation aloud and set the seal down.
With the attendant's assistance, the two parties completed their exchange — one walking away with a thick stack of banknotes, the other with the sword.
At almost the exact same moment, Vincent became vaguely aware of a soft ding in his ear. A flash of the ancient scale crossed his mind — the empty left pan, high in the air, now had a single grey crystal nestled inside it. The pan dipped slightly under the new weight.
It actually works.
In that moment, Vincent finally felt a weight lift from his chest. "Facilitating deals and cooperation between others" had been such a broad criterion — it could be interpreted strictly or loosely. Loosely, it simply meant doing exactly this: serving as host and witness at a Beyonder gathering. He'd take it.
"I'm looking to purchase a Deep-Grain Walnut."
As Vincent was quietly relieved, trading at the gathering continued without pause.
"Three hundred and fifty pounds."
"I only have three hundred."
"Tch. If I weren't in a hurry to move it… not a penny less, fine, here."
With the second deal concluded, Vincent again felt the feedback pulse from his Spirituality. Another grey crystal dropped onto the left pan of the scale, and it immediately fused with the first, becoming a single, larger mass.
"Anyone have an Apothecary Pathway formula?"
"I'm looking to buy a Greater Rhinoceros horn."
"Any interest in mummified powder?"
The following dozen or so transactions succeeded and failed by turns. Vincent worked as a dispassionate notarising machine, pressing the seal every few minutes.
At half past nine, another deal was completed.
With a low thud, the grey crystal on the left pan of the scale had grown to match the size of the counterweight on the right. For the first time, the ancient scale came into perfect balance.
Vincent's heart quickened with anticipation. He was more than ready for the gathering to end.
A man wearing a leather jacket, a half-mask, and an unlit pipe clenched between his teeth spoke up: "I'm looking to hire a Lawyer's assistant…"
Before he finished, a voice cut in with a laugh: "For that, you should go to the employment market — not here."
The man with the pipe lowered it and continued: "I'm looking for a real 'Lawyer' to serve as my assistant."
"Why?"
"I'll keep that to myself, but I can assure you — anyone who is a genuine Lawyer will find it very much to their benefit to assist me." He looked toward Vincent. "We can formalise this with a contract, which I'll ask Miss Kate to notarise."
He scanned the room. "Any takers?"
None came.
"Very well — as expected. Apologies for taking up everyone's time."
The final twenty-odd minutes yielded only a scattering of six or seven transactions, and half of those fell through. When the clock reached nine, Vincent was the first to clap his hands. "That's all for tonight."
Vivienne immediately followed: "As per our custom, those who completed transactions leave first, then those whose deals fell through, and the rest last."
The room cleared in an orderly fashion, guided by the attendants. Vincent, accompanied by Vivienne, was escorted to a lavishly furnished private room.
"I need to rest for a while. See to it that no one disturbs me."
"Understood."
Once Vivienne had gone, Vincent scattered a handful of powder and used Witchcraft to seal the room. Then he sat down on the sofa and whispered inwardly:
Enter.
He crossed the threshold into the mysterious room once more. There, hanging suspended in mid-air, the scale had indeed reached balance. In the left pan rested a crystalline object that shimmered with a faint, translucent glow.
He walked up to the pan. "Now then — what happens next?"
Crack.
Before he could give it any more thought, the crystal shattered. It dissolved into a grey stream of light and poured into his body.
To be continued…