Chapter 58: Ashfall Trade Centre

The Merchant Guild works like a private corporation in this world. It is a mixture of all the financial activities and different businesses.

The Merchant guild name of the city was Ashfall Trade Centre it dominated the plaza the way a cathedral dominates a square. Even in a city of towers and high walls it stood apart—twelve stories of pale stone and dark timber, its façade carved with interlocking geometric patterns that caught the light of the twin suns and threw it back in soft gold. Enormous pillars framed the entrance. Arched windows ran in disciplined rows. Wooden balconies edged with delicate railings projected at regular intervals, and from every floor crystal lamps glowed with steady, shadowless light. The overall impression was of a medieval palace that had been redesigned by people who understood both commerce and magic in equal measure.

Rael paused at the foot of the wide steps and read the directory board fixed to the wall. The text was clear, practical, and written in the common script used across the explored regions of Aetherion.

1st Floor – Reception Counters

Long wooden counters where merchants registered businesses, requested trade permits, and handled ordinary transactions.

2nd Floor – Trading Stalls

Small permanent booths displaying weapons, armor, monster materials, potions, magical ingredients, food, clothing, and lesser treasures.

3rd Floor – Large Display Cases

Enchanted glass cases containing valuable artifacts and rare items under constant protective wards.

4th Floor – Transaction Counters

Staff who handled currency exchange, large contracts, and high-value purchases.

5th Floor – Magic Screens and Boards

Floating displays that updated commodity prices, monster-core values, dungeon material rates, and public trade notices in real time.

6th Floor – Contract Hall

A quieter section reserved for negotiating caravan contracts, long-term supply deals, and private commissions.

7th Floor – Appraisal Room

Specialists who identified and valued monster materials, artifacts, gemstones, cores, and other goods whose true worth was not obvious.

8th Floor – Storage Vaults

Heavily guarded chambers for the most valuable goods; access required both key and blood-signature.

9th Floor – Private Offices

Rooms used by wealthy merchants and guild officials for confidential negotiations.

10th Floor – Auction Hall

A grand chamber opened only for rare artifacts, legendary materials, and other items that demanded competitive bidding.

11th Floor – Merchant Lounge

A comfortable area of tables, food, drink, and information boards where deals were discussed in softer voices.

12th Floor – Caravan Department

Offices that organized transportation, escorts, route planning, and large shipments between cities.

Beneath the public floors lay three underground levels. Those handled the guild’s internal leadership, secure transport routing, and the movement of goods that never appeared on any public ledger. Customers were not permitted below ground without explicit authorization.

The building functioned as a private corporation formed by long-standing partnerships among the city’s major trading houses. Almost every financial service that mattered in Ashfall passed through its doors in one form or another. It was less a single business and more the beating commercial heart of the city.

Rael stepped inside. The main hall on the first floor was high-ceilinged and cool despite the twin suns outside. Crystal lamps floated near the vaulted roof, casting even light across dozens of reception counters. The air smelled of polished wood, ink, and the faint ozone of active wards. People moved with purpose—merchants in practical coats, clerks with ledgers, guards whose eyes never stopped moving. It felt orderly in a way the open markets outside did not.

There was no lift. In a realm that rejected most non-mana technology, stairs remained the reliable solution. Rael began to climb. With each floor the number of casual visitors thinned. By the time he reached the fourth the traffic had become almost entirely transactional: people carrying sealed cases, signed contracts, or heavy coin purses.

The fourth floor was a single broad hall lined with identical wooden counters. Behind each counter sat a clerk in the guild’s muted green-and-gold uniform. The atmosphere was quiet, professional, closer to a bank than a marketplace. Rael approached the nearest desk.

"I need to exchange credits for local coin. Which counter?"

The clerk pointed without looking up from his ledger. "Counter six."

The line at counter six was short. When Rael’s turn came, a woman with neat grey streaks in her hair and ink-stained fingers regarded him over a pair of thin spectacles.

"How much would you like to exchange?"

"Five hundred thousand credits."

She wrote the figure on a slip of thick paper and slid it across. "Bank details here. We’ll confirm the transfer."

Rael filled in the information for the account he had opened under the name Ashborne. The woman took the slip, spoke a few quiet words into a mana communicator no larger than a coin, and received an answering pulse of light within five seconds.

"Confirmed. Which denomination would you prefer—gold, silver, or bronze?"

"Gold."

She opened a reinforced drawer, counted with practiced speed, and pushed a heavy cloth bag across the counter. Fifty gold coins. Rael weighed the bag once in his hand, then slipped it straight into his storage ring. The transaction had taken less than two minutes.

He turned away. There was more to learn about the guild—appraisal procedures, caravan rates, the quiet politics of the upper floors—but he had no time for curiosity. Every peer who had left the First Realm on schedule was already stronger than he was. The gap would only widen if he lingered behind the safety of the walls. He needed equipment for travel, then he needed to leave the city and begin hunting.

On the way back down the stairs he remembered Max waiting outside. The boy’s easy smile and convenient timing had the shape of a common scam: guide the newcomer, wait until the exchange was finished, then lead him into an alley where friends were ready. Rael could not be certain, and he was still far too weak to gamble against local thugs who knew the streets better than he did. He paused on a landing, closed his eyes, and adjusted Conceal with small, precise changes—hair a shade darker, jaw slightly broader, the set of the eyes altered just enough to break recognition.

When he stepped back out into the plaza the twin suns were still high. The bag of gold coins sat safely in his ring. Max was nowhere in the immediate crowd, or if he was, he no longer recognized the face he was waiting for.

Rael turned toward the market streets. The next purchases would be practical: a proper weapon, travel rations, a map of the safer hunting zones beyond the walls. After that the city could keep its comforts. He had work to do.

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