It seed the tree-trash really hadn't been holding out on him.
Aiden opened his eyes and turned back to the small mountain of loot. Oh, well. Whatever. Ti to contact his rich little contractor and get this big deal started.
He reared up on his hind legs, his front claws rubbing together in uncontrollable glee.
Thud.
The sound of a heavy body hitting the ground echoed in the clearing.
Huh. His back suddenly felt... light.
Oh, shit. Azure.
He looked back. Azure's limp blue body was sprawled on the scorched earth, a pathetic heap of broken limbs. Only her head was raised, her flat, emotionless blue eyes staring right at him.
His gleeful claws froze mid-rub. Right. Forgot she was up there.
"Hey, uh..." he began, speaking in Draconic, "you just hang out there for a sec, okay? I gotta handle this big deal."
She didn't reply. Just... stared.
Gods, that stare is intense. Okay, abort, abort.
He whipped his head back to the pile of loot. So much stuff. This should trade for a whole... other... mountain of stuff! A low, greedy cackle rumbled in his chest.
He raised his right claw. A thread of red mana spun into existence, connecting with the sigil. It flared with a crimson light.
On the manor balcony, Thea was reclined on a lounge chair, holding Isolde's small form in her arms. She was speaking quietly, her gaze on the red sky.
"Every Crown is an existence of supre nobility. Their honor is beyond words. Every living being on Aethelgard is their subject. And as subjects, we are supposed to love them, aren't we?"
A small voice ca from her embrace. "But... what about you, Thea?"
"Of course not," Thea said, her voice smooth. "I've never t them. Why would I love them? That's just propaganda from the Church."
"But Thea, don't you go to the Church of the Fourth Crown to pray all the ti?"
You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit for the authentic version.
Thea tightened her embrace. "Isolde, you must understand. For a 'monster' like , profit is the only thing that's absolute. With enough incentive, a noble can be a faithful follower of any Crown. And... every noble is an accomplished liar. We never show our fangs easily. You should be careful, Isolde."
"Then..." The voice in her arms paused. "Are you... helping for profit, too?"
"Yes," Thea replied, without hesitation.
The girl in her arms went quiet.
"Thea."
"Hm?"
"I'll work hard."
"I know."
A familiar, hot sensation pulsed from Isolde's hand. A red glow emanated from the sigil, bright enough to draw Thea's attention.
"Looks like he's calling you again."
"Mhm!" Isolde's pale, round face flushed with excitent. To her, only two things mattered: her partner, Mister Aiden, and her friend, Thea. She couldn't—wouldn't—lose either of them.
She reached out her left hand and grasped the red mana thread extending from the sigil. A familiar warmth pulsed into her palm. It's Mister Aiden's aura.
"Mister Aiden! Good endless night!"
"Mister Aiden! Good endless night!" The voice was as cheerful as ever.
"Contractor, good endless night to you," Aiden rumbled. "I've... acquired... a lot of elven items. Are you buying?"
"Can you wait just a mont, Mister Aiden? I need to ask Thea!"
Thea? Oh, right. The servant. Good to know she has a competent one.
"No problem," he sent back.
Isolde looked up at Thea. "Mister Aiden says he got so elven items. Does your House buy them?"
"Ask him what kind of elf," Thea said, closing her eyes, her interest fading. It was probably just more loot from so Sun Elf tribe. Honestly, she thought, that Sun Elf junk was only a novelty at first. The market's flooded with it. It's worthless. The elves themselves are worth more. A pristine Sun Elf slave can fetch ten thousand gold...
Isolde, oblivious to Thea's cold calculation, sent the thought: "Mister Aiden, Thea asks what kind of elf?"
The reply was instant: "Wood Elf."
Isolde looked back at Thea. "Thea, he says they're from Wood Elves."
Thea's eyes snapped open.
Wood Elf?
This was a big deal.
She sat bolt upright, pulling Isolde with her. "Tell him we'll take it all. Everything." Her dark eyes shined with a predatory light.
Wood Elf! The forr masters of Aethelgard! Because they were so rare, anything associated with them was priceless. Alchemists would kill for their craft, scholars would bankrupt themselves for their tablets, and the high nobility would trample each other for the sheer prestige of owning anything from the lost race.
This wasn't just a deal. This was a jackpot.
House Valerius could run auctions for months on this. In batches, of course. To maximize value.
"Mister Aiden, Thea says she'll buy it all!"
Aiden's maw split into a grin so wide it almost hurt. I'm rich! I'm gonna be so fucking rich!
"Great. Open the portal, contractor. I'm sending the stuff through."
"Okay, Mister Aiden! One second!"
His claws rubbed together, practically throwing sparks.
A mont later, an orange portal opened. Aiden, as was his habit, blasted it with a quick puff of fire to "re-color" it, then began shoving the mountain of loot through. It only took him a few massive shoves.
He finished, then looked at the elves. Hmm. Their clothes don't look half bad. 'Authentic,' you could say. I wonder if she'll buy those too.
"Contractor. You want their clothes, too?"
A short pause. "Thea says yes!"
He activated his [Eternal Ring], allowing the elves to understand him. He raised his claw and pointed at one of the elves.
"You. Get over here. Take off your clothes."
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