Castle Mington, as always, was teeming with life.
For Daniel, maintaining a strong relationship with the Multiracial Comrce League was of utmost importance. After all, if he intended to synthesize more God Rank Skills in the future, he would require a vast array of rare materials.
And no one on the continent had a better supply than the Multiracial Comrce League.
They held an inventory unmatched by any other power—stockpiles of ingredients, so of which were nearly impossible to find on the open market. Exotic reagents, restricted imports, ancient beast parts, magical alloys—they had it all.
What’s more, Daniel could also rely on them to help procure even the rarest of components through their intercontinental trade networks.
At the sa ti, he could also offload the massive haul of loot he’d gathered from the World Rank bosses.
There weren’t many factions across the entire human race with pockets deep enough to absorb what he carried.
But Daniel had no intention of causing another dia storm by making a spectacle out of his sales.
The bigger his na beca, the more trouble he would attract.
Better to move quietly—dispose of the goods discreetly and walk away with a profit.
No headlines. No mobs of admirers. No eyes from the Church or inquisitors.
Just business.
Upon entering the towering white-marble building that housed the Multiracial Comrce League’s Castle Mington branch, Daniel made a beeline for soone he already knew:
Manager Harry.
The mont Harry saw Daniel, he couldn’t hide his surprise.
Even he hadn’t expected to see this living legend again—so soon.
And not just any legend. Daniel had claid multiple World Rank boss kills in a single day—including a first kill.
That fact alone had caused tremors across the upper echelons of power.
Harry’s professional smile widened as his eyes glead with unconcealed excitent. He could already sll the commission wafting in.
"Your Highness Daniel! What an honor! How may I assist you today?"
"I’ve got a batch of items to sell," Daniel said calmly. "Might be a bit much. Can your side handle the volu?"
"Of course!" Harry answered without hesitation.
This wasn’t arrogance. It was simple confidence in the Comrce League’s financial might.
Even if one looked beyond the human territories—considering all races and factions—the Multiracial Comrce League ranked among the top three economic forces on the entire continent.
Daniel gave a slight nod, already trusting in their ability.
"I also need a few materials," he added. "Twenty strands of Slumber Spider’s Web. Ten Dream Fragnts. Can you source them?"
"Certainly, though it may take a short while," Harry replied, unflinching.
He didn’t even blink at the rare materials ntioned.
"At present, our local warehouse doesn’t carry enough Slumber Spider’s Web strands, but we can have a courier teleport them in from one of our partner branches. Please allow us about an hour."
Daniel nodded, exhaling softly.
As expected of the Comrce League. Efficient. Reliable. No unnecessary red tape.
More importantly, he already had the Heart of Mist, the core component needed to synthesize the God Rank skill [Mist].
That ant that in just one hour, he would gain another God Rank skill—one that specialized in stealth and concealnt.
And right now, it was the skill he needed the most.
He had drawn far too much attention.
There were surely many high-level powers—so benevolent, others not—watching him from the shadows.
Daniel reined in his thoughts and began calculating.
While he had the funds, it would be wise to stock up on as many God Rank skill synthesis materials as possible. So of them were rare enough that even the League couldn’t guarantee instant access.
With that, he pulled out a quill and began jotting down a long, comprehensive list of materials.
When Harry received the list, his hands began to tremble.
Twenty years of experience as a manager—and yet even he hadn’t seen anything quite like this.
He recognized most of the ingredients, but toward the bottom of the list...
There were items he had never even heard of.
Not in trade manifests. Not in black-market whispers. Not even in the forbidden inventory ledgers.
How does Daniel even know about these things? Harry thought in disbelief.
And the total cost? A conservative estimate placed it at over one hundred million gold coins.
This wasn’t just a transaction. It was a legendary deal.
Harry, who would normally laugh at anyone else claiming such figures, didn’t doubt Daniel for even a second.
Not after what the young man had accomplished in the past 24 hours.
"Your Highness, I’ll make all necessary arrangents to gather these materials. However..."
Daniel imdiately understood the hesitation.
He smiled faintly. "I’ve got a lot of inventory on hand. Why don’t you take to one of your empty warehouses?"
Harry naturally didn’t object.
He personally led Daniel to one of the Comrce League’s empty vaults—a high-ceilinged storage room secured with enchantnts.
As for appraisers?
Please.
Who in Castle Mington’s branch could match Manager Harry’s qualifications?
That’s precisely how he had earned his title.
Before starting, Daniel turned to Harry and spoke solemnly.
"Before we begin, I want to make sothing clear. Whether I continue to work with your League depends entirely on your ability to maintain confidentiality. I’m certain that plenty of other trade networks would love to partner with soone of my... capabilities."
Harry nodded instantly.
Discretion was not just policy—it was the foundation of the Comrce League’s longevity.
Ask no questions. Protect the client. Keep secrets.
It was the reason they could do business with kings, assassins, and monsters alike.
"Your Highness Daniel, you have my word. Confidentiality is one of the core tenets of the League. We can even sign a contract—under divine witness, if you so desire."
That last part made Daniel breathe easier.
He wasn’t sure if the gods truly paid attention to such contracts, but if they did—then such an oath would be untouchable.
He had little to worry about.
With that reassurance, Daniel opened his inventory and began emptying it.
A second later, the warehouse—once spacious and clean—was completely buried in loot.
Materials.
Armors.
Special-grade potions.
Runestones.
Enchanted ingots.
It was like a tsunami of treasure. A mountain of shiny, glowing, labeled goods.
And most eye-catching of all... were the skill books.
Hundreds of them.
They spilled from his bag and piled up beside him like discarded paperbacks in a library fire sale.
Each one was a repeat drop—Daniel had kept only one copy of each spell and intended to sell the rest in bulk.
But to Harry?
It was as if soone had dropped a teor into his office.
That many skill books?
He blinked once.
Then twice.
Was he hallucinating?
The Castle Mington branch didn’t even stock a fraction of this number in their entire archive.
But Harry was a veteran professional. He had weathered bidding wars, survived dragonfire audits, and negotiated with necromancer guilds.
Though shocked, he regained his composure in seconds—his eyes still burning with fervor.
"Your Highness, please allow a mont," he said.
He walked over to a secured drawer, opened it, and retrieved a disc engraved with magical runes—a specialized pricing artifact.
"I’ll begin appraising the items imdiately."
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