Chapter 244: A Deal with the King

The first point highlighted by Lumon led Iron to a two-story dark stone building. The oak door shut behind him with a dull thud, cutting off the noise of the bustling street.

​Polished gemstones, mana crystals, and raw druses gleamed on massive wooden shelves lining the walls. A couple of customers strolled through the hall, inspecting the goods, while a hunched old man sat behind a high counter in the back. Wearing a thick jeweler's loupe over one eye, he was diligently polishing a cloudy faceted quartz with a greasy rag.

​Iron walked up to the counter and sat on a tall wooden stool.

​"Good afternoon," he said, pulling a folded piece of heavy paper from his inner pocket. He unfolded it and slid it right onto the polished countertop in front of the craftsman. "Tell me, do you sell chaos ore? Or anything else on this list?"

​The old man slowly pushed the loupe up to his forehead, squinted, and took the paper. He stared at the sketches for a few seconds, rubbing his chin, then shook his head and handed the sheet back.

​"Never seen anything like this in my entire life," the merchant said, picking his quartz back up. "And to be honest, kid, I'm not even sure this 'chaos ore' of yours actually exists."

​Iron snatched up the paper, folded it, and tucked it back into his pocket.

​"It does," he replied calmly, standing up from the stool. "It's a shame you don't have it."

​Wasting no time, Iron visited three more similar establishments—ranging from a weaponsmith's basement workshop to an elite mineral boutique for aristocrats. The answer was the same everywhere: no.

​Half an hour later, Iron was sitting on a stone bench in a square near the merchant rows, thoughtfully watching the people walking by.

​Why doesn't anyone have ore from Dornheim? he wondered, resting his elbows on his knees. Are the local craftsmen simply too lazy or uneducated to work with materials like that? Or did the kings never mention this ore in the first place...?

​Iron got up from the bench and fixed his gaze on the castle once again.

​A few minutes later, he was approaching the massive main gates of the outer castle wall. However, he barely managed to take a couple of steps across the granite-paved plaza before two knights in heavy, polished armor blocked his path. Their long spears crossed right in front of his chest with a sharp metallic clatter.

​"Can we help you with something, citizen?" one of the guards snapped dryly, giving Iron a stern look.

​"Yes," Iron replied calmly, not even flinching. "I'd like to see the king. He's in, right?"

​The knights instantly pulled their spears back and gripped the hilts of their swords tighter.

​"Entry to the castle grounds is strictly forbidden!" the second guard barked. "You're not on the approved guest list, and no one informed us of your arrival. Get out of here before we arrest you for trespassing!"

​"Then go ask the king," Iron shrugged unbothered. "Tell His Majesty that someone wants to speak with him regarding the economy. Report that I have a proposal that will make this kingdom the most profitable in the region, and the king himself the richest man in the world. Oh, and my name is Iron Everfall."

​The guards were momentarily taken aback. They spent a moment just silently processing what they'd heard before the first knight let out an angry snort:

​"What kind of nonsense are you spouting, you vagrant?! What economy? Get lost before I chop your head off right here!"

​He had already half-drawn his sword when the second guard suddenly placed a hand on his pauldron, stopping his partner.

​"Hold on," the second one said quietly.

​"Are you serious?" the first barked. "He's obviously lying and stalling for time!"

​"We can't know that for sure," his comrade argued coolly. "Think about it: if his proposal turns out to be real, the king will be thrilled and reward us handsomely for letting him in. And if this guy is lying... well, His Majesty will give the order to the executioner himself. What do we have to lose?"

​The first knight sighed heavily, shot Iron another disdainful look, and reluctantly lowered his weapon:

​"Fine. Wait here. But if you're wasting my time—you'll only have yourself to blame."

​He turned around and briskly marched off into the depths of the castle courtyard.

​The remaining guard stood across from Iron, resting a hand on the hilt of his sword and not taking his eyes off him. Iron, meanwhile, smiled and gave a friendly wave to the departing knight. Then he shifted his gaze to the second guard:

​"So, how is it out here? Not too tough of a job, standing at the gates all day?"

​"I'm going to ask you to shut up," the knight snapped.

​"Got it," Iron chuckled.

​He casually stepped back toward the castle's defensive wall and comfortably leaned against the stone. About five minutes passed. Iron was boredly watching the birds flying over the towers when hurried footsteps echoed from the courtyard. The same guard ran out from behind the gates.

​"Iron!" he yelled, panting heavily. "His Majesty is summoning you!"

​Iron slowly pushed himself off the wall and smiled:

​"Perfect."

​He stepped forward, heading toward the opened passage. Walking past the guards, Iron paused for a fraction of a second. The man was glaring at him with deep contempt. In response, Iron simply flashed a wide grin right at his helmet and stepped into the inner courtyard.

​The massive inner courtyard gates opened with a heavy, low rumble. After passing through security checkpoints where grim-faced guards briefly inspected him one last time, Iron, escorted by a castle servant, stepped under the arches of the main castle building.

​Inside, the castle was striking—not so much for its wealth as for its bizarre architectural scale. The main hall was a giant atrium: a continuous, open space without the usual floor divisions that stretched far upward, flanked by two soaring staircases made of dark stained oak.

​Are there not even any normal floors here? Iron noted to himself, scanning the massive scale. Just one giant house... Though, if you count that suspended gallery as a second level, I guess there is some logic to it.

​The servant silently gestured the way: they turned right, climbed the stairs, and stepped into a long corridor. A carved railing ran along the left side, offering a view of the hall below, while dozens of paneled doors lined the right. After taking two more right turns, the guide stopped at the tallest set of oak doors, heavily embossed with gold.

​The servant knocked quietly, waited for a muffled word of permission from within, cracked the door open, and whispered something discreetly. Upon receiving an affirmative nod, he threw the door wide open, motioned for Iron to enter, and immediately shut it without a sound behind him.

​Deep, plush, velvet-upholstered sofas, pale stone tables, and intricate gilded lamps were scattered everywhere. The sheer amount of gold even made Iron squint a little. In the very center, atop a carved table, sat a massive silver platter piled high with rare fruits and sweets.

​Sitting at the table was a middle-aged man in a rich doublet. He gestured toward the sofa opposite him:

​"Please, have a seat, Mister Everfall."

​"A pleasure to meet you," Iron replied calmly, sinking into the soft cushions across from him. "As you know, I'm Iron Everfall."

​The king leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. Pure impatience burned in his eyes:

​"A pleasure. Well then, what exactly is this proposal you wanted to share with me...?" But a second later, the king corrected himself. "Ah yes, I haven't even introduced myself. I am Andres Kairon Deravain. But you may just call me Andres."

​Iron slowly reached out, took a small glazed sweet from the platter, examined it with interest, bit off half, and chewed unhurriedly. Wiping his fingers with a pristine white napkin, he looked the king dead in the eye and said calmly:

​"To be completely honest, I don't have any ideas for your economy, Andres."

​The room plunged into absolute silence for a moment. The king's face shifted in a fraction of a second—his polite curiosity twisting into sheer fury.

​"What?!" he barked, recoiling. "Are you mocking me?! Take him away!"

​Three heavily armored guards, who had been standing silently against the wall behind the ruler, instantly drew broad blades and moved toward Iron.

​The engineer shot up from the sofa, holding his hands up and slowly backing toward the wall:

​"Whoa, take it easy, guys. Easy. I actually came in peace."

​"In peace?!" the king snarled, rising from his seat.

​"Exactly. I just needed a pretext to speak with you personally," Iron explained quickly, never taking his eyes off the advancing knights. "And your guards outside weren't exactly willing to listen. So, I had to bend the truth a little."

​The king breathed heavily for a few seconds, sizing Iron up, before sharply raising a hand to stop the guards:

​"Halt."

​The knights froze with their weapons raised. Andres leaned heavily on the table and hissed through gritted teeth:

​"I will turn a blind eye to this unimaginable insolence on one condition: you give me a genuinely viable method to raise Nellis's revenues right this very second."

​With a swift, fluid motion, Iron stepped over the back of the sofa, sank back into the cushions, and crossed his legs:

​"Deal. But on one condition: first, you answer a couple of my questions."

​"Alas, Iron," the king cut him off coldly, crossing his arms over his chest. "First your idea, then the questions. You don't have a choice right now."

​Iron let out a heavy sigh and closed his eyes for a moment:

​"Fine."

​He sat up straight, rested his elbows on his knees, and spoke with absolute confidence:

​"Your economy is currently propped up by standard trade: ore, provisions, crafts. Your neighbors have all of that too. For your treasury to... let's just say, overflow with gold, you need exclusivity—something no one else in this world has, but something any ruler would give half their kingdom for. I'm offering you a technological monopoly. My faction produces and supplies you with unique engineering devices, and Nellis becomes the sole trading hub and distributor for this tech. You resell them to other lands at whatever markup you see fit. Plus, your kingdom gains absolute military superiority."

​King Andres narrowed his eyes, still clinging to his skepticism:

​"A technological monopoly? Sounds beautiful. But so far, they're just words. How can you prove that these 'devices' of yours even exist, let alone are worth a single copper?"

​"Here's your proof." Iron stretched his arm forward.

​Right above his palm, a smooth black sphere materialized. Iron carefully placed it on the tabletop. In that very second, a 3D green hologram unfolded above the table: a single bright dot began pulsing right over the projection of the castle.

​"This is a compact motion sensor and long-range tracker," Iron explained. "And most importantly, it functions entirely without magic."

​Andres frowned, scrutinizing the projection:

​"And how do I know this isn't just a standard illusion?"

​Iron picked up the device and snapped his fingers. The device vanished from his hand, teleported far beyond the city limits. On the hologram, the dot instantly darted off and reappeared deep in the forest. Another snap—the sphere was back in Iron's hand, and the dot instantly snapped back to the coordinates of his sofa.

​"You gain total control over espionage and border security, and your merchants get a product that will have every ruler on the continent lining up to buy it," Iron summarized.

​The king leaped from his seat, practically leaning his entire upper body over the table, and stared mesmerized at the black sphere.

​"Unbelievable..." he breathed. "This... this will completely revolutionize trade! So, we have an alliance, then?"

​"Exactly. We supply you with the technology—you get mountains of gold and the status of the ultimate trade hub," Iron nodded, sliding the device toward the king. "And keep this tracker as an advance payment. Consider it a gift."

​Andres eagerly snatched up the device, sank back onto the sofa, and began examining it with absolute awe.

​"Brilliant! How large of a shipment do we need to start? We'll sign a treaty immediately!" the ruler muttered, unable to tear his eyes away from the sphere.

​Iron leaned back against the sofa, crossed his arms over his chest, and smiled:

​"We'll hammer out those details a bit later. Now, since I've fulfilled my end of the bargain, it's time you answer my question, right?"

​"Yes, yes, of course," he muttered, struggling to pull his gaze away from the device.

​Iron leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees, and asked directly:

​"Tell me, are you familiar with the names of Kings Edriac, Olgerd, and Valdes?"

​The ecstatic gleam in Andres's eyes was instantly replaced by icy shock. He froze, his smile vanished, and the fingers gripping the sensor clenched nervously.

​"Why do you care about them?" the king asked, his voice hollow and defensive.

​"I'd like to learn more about them," Iron explained calmly. "Everything you can tell me."

​Andres exhaled heavily, clicked his tongue in irritation, and fell back against the sofa cushions.

​"You're better off not knowing," he waved him off dismissively. "They're utter scum, the lot of them."

​Iron scooted even closer to the edge, leaning his whole body forward, and gave a brief chuckle:

​"On the contrary, I'd actually like to know absolutely everything about them. You've dealt with them in the past, haven't you?"

​The king remained silent for a few seconds, studying Iron. Then he took another heavy breath, gathering his thoughts, and slowly said:

​"Yeah... I have. If you really want to know about them, then listen up."