Chapter 106 – The Iron Key.

The faction vault transaction log lit up in the corner of Diana's vision early that morning.

She was sitting on the edge of the tavern bed, finishing lacing the leather straps of her boots, when the black gold notification flickered twice:

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

[VAULT TRANSACTION LOG]

- Withdrawal: -10 pure Silver Coins.

- Authorization: Rhea (Phantom Blade) & Aurelia-Elysia (Priestess).

- Logged Reason: Purchase of runic steel ingots and restocking of glass vials.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Diana paused with the laces in hand, blinking her dark eyes at the numbers.

“Ten silver coins...” she muttered to the empty room, scratching the base of her right horn. “What are those four spending ten silvers on all at once? Did Kael break his shield again during gravity training, or did Aurelia decide to buy another silk wardrobe?”

She grumbled softly out of the habit of seeing the balance drop, but a sense of quiet relief settled deep in her chest.

The ten silver coins leaving the account proved that the plan had worked.

The team had seen the eight-coin withdrawal Diana had made in the rift days earlier, understood the Commander was alive, and kept the Bastion running at full stride, restocking the workshop and training without panicking.

With the withdrawal by the members in the Second Circle, the total balance in the faction vault adjusted to 388 Silver Coins.

Diana finished lacing her boots, stood up, and looked around the room in The Smoking Boar Tavern.

That straw-floored room had been useful for mending broken bones and resting after the fall, but remaining there any longer was a logistical mistake. The stench of pork grease seeped through the floorboards all day, the ruckus of drunken mercenaries in the common room shattered magical concentration, and there was no secure space to haul in Level 45 monster carcasses or assemble a large-scale distillation lab.

She needed real property.

***

Diana walked down the inn's stairs with her dimensional pouch fastened to her belt, handed the brass key to the ogre clerk, and headed toward the city's administrative plaza.

She entered the Southern District Registry of Leases and Warehouses, a low building of gray granite where caravan masters rented storage yards for freight.

The clerk in charge was an elderly demon with thick spectacles who turned ledger pages with fingers stained in black ink.

“I want to rent an independent property in the south sector,” Diana said, resting her gloved hands on the stone counter. “No boarding rooms, no open sheds. I want solid stone masonry, high walls, an enclosed courtyard, and a deep basement for alchemical work.”

The old man pushed his glasses to the bridge of his nose, appraising Diana's black leather coat, the amethyst circlet, and the two obsidian horns. He pulled three parchment cards from an iron drawer:

“I have a two-story townhouse near the lava canals that belonged to a leather tanner,” the old man explained. “The property has two floors of basalt stone, three-meter walls topped with a double iron gate, a deep subterranean cistern, and sits at the end of a cul-de-sac, far from the roar of the central cauldrons. The monthly rent is eight silver coins.”

Diana studied the layout sketched on the card.

The location was prime: five minutes from the city's southern exit, allowing her to slip out to hunt in the rifts without crossing main square traffic, and the underground cistern offered perfect thermal insulation for storing volatile reagents from Level 20 Alchemy.

“Eight silver coins for a full month's lease,” Diana said. “I pay upfront if the keys are released right now.”

The clerk drew up the lease agreement, stamped the city hall's red wax seal onto it, and placed the heavy iron key into Diana's hands.

Diana withdrew eight silver coins from her pocket and set them onto the counter.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

[PAYMENT FOR PRIVATE PROPERTY LEASE]

- Monthly Rent for the Lower Cauldrons Estate: -8 Silver Coins (800 Bronze).

[NEW NET WORTH IN VAULT: 380 SILVER COINS (38,000 Bronze / EXACTLY 38 PURE GOLD COINS!)]

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Three hundred and eighty silver coins kept secure in the faction vault. Exactly Thirty-Eight pure Gold Coins.

***

Two hours later, Diana crossed through the double iron gates of her new base in the Third Circle.

The Lower Cauldrons Estate was precisely what she needed.

The black stone house was solid, its half-meter-thick walls deadening all street noise. The interior courtyard was paved with coarse gravel, bordered by high granite walls topped with iron spikes. Down in the basement, the old cistern had been converted into an expansive, cool stone hall fitted with ceiling steel hooks to hang butchered game and two long benches for cauldrons.

Diana locked the iron gate with the heavy key, slid the two inner deadbolts into place, and walked up to the second floor.

She stepped into the master bedroom, opened the windows to let fresh air circulate, and placed her supply pack on the wooden table.

She went down to the cistern, organized her distillation kit across the clean workbench, and lined up vials of Fire Salt reagents and medicinal herbs.

The space was hers now.

No prying eyes of mercenaries outside her door, no sound of smashing mugs on the floor below.

Diana headed back up to the ground-floor kitchen, lit the stone hearth with a spark of mana from her fingertips, and set the kettle to boil.

She sat in the wooden chair, leaned back against the frame, and looked out at the quiet courtyard through the open window.

The base was secured. The vault held thirty-eight gold coins.

Tomorrow morning, she would summon Boran at the east gate.