Chapter 382: Defend the Frostgrave Fortress (2)

After that, Ruvian and Calyra were escorted into one of the estate’s reception parlors.

The room was elegant, though Ruvian barely registered any of it. Another matter had already taken root in his thoughts.

While waiting for Orianna to return, he glanced toward Calyra.

"Say, do you know the route to Frostgrave Fortress? More importantly, do you know how to get inside?"

A faint flicker of surprise disturbed Calyra’s otherwise impassive expression.

She clearly had not expected that question.

"I do. I’ve been there several times before. Why?"

Meeting her puzzled blue stare, Ruvian answered gravely, his expression hardening.

"Change of plan. I just saw something bad happening at Frostgrave."

Calyra’s eyes widened slightly.

Almost at once, she connected his words to her father’s abrupt departure earlier. If her father had rushed away because of Frostgrave, then whatever Ruvian had seen was unlikely to be unrelated.

"When are we going?" she asked tersely.

"As soon as possible."

"Then we go now," Calyra said resolutely.

The moment the words left her lips, she stepped closer and reached for his arm. Even she could sense the grim weight behind Ruvian’s ominous vision.

Before Ruvian could utter another word, mana surged around them.

[Blink].

With that, both of them vanished from the parlor.

As though fate possessed a particularly cruel sense of timing, Orianna entered scarcely a second later, carrying a silver tray laden with tea and refreshments.

She stopped at the doorway.

Her eyes settled upon the conspicuously empty room, her expression remaining perfectly composed save for the faintest twitch of her brow.

*****

[Silvena’s POV]

The room around her was extravagant.

Seated behind the broad mahogany desk in her private chamber, Silvena idly supported her cheek with one hand while the other moved across several ledgers spread before her.

Her silver-tipped pen skimmed columns of figures detailing warehouse stock and the guild’s latest commissions.

’Haa... the southern route is still draining coin. If the freight costs rise again, those commissions will barely make any profit for us. I guess it’s better to reroute the next shipment through another route.’

Tapping the pen lightly against the ledger, Silvena revised the projected margin beside it.

Then, after a brief calculation, she added a terse notation instructing the quartermaster to reduce the next procurement allotment by twelve percent.

Her pen had barely left the parchment when her hand went still.

’Hm?’

Someone was approaching.

Darkness coalesced at the center of the chamber, thickening into an amorphous mass before a figure emerged from within, imposing and deathly silent. Platinum hair spilled past her shoulders like molten steel as her keen silver eyes slowly opened.

Dropping to one knee, the austere woman bowed her head before Silvena.

"My Lady. The investigation you entrusted to me has been concluded. I have returned to deliver my findings."

"Ahh, it’s you, Seraphine," Silvena remarked, the languor in her expression easing slightly. "Very well. You may proceed."

Setting the ledger and pen aside, Silvena leaned back in her chair with a faint smile, waiting for the report.

Seraphine kept her head lowered for a moment before speaking.

"The Natoris Craftsmen Guild is not operating alone, My Lady. I uncovered several other guilds under different names across the neighboring territories. Merchants, haulers, miners, even alchemic suppliers. On paper, none of them are connected. But their payments and intermediaries all eventually converge upon the same organization."

Silvena’s smile faded slightly.

Seraphine continued in the same measured tone.

"The organization itself keeps a remarkably clean record. I found no direct evidence of illicit trade or smuggling tied to its name. Whoever manages it has been careful."

"Oh, and there is one matter of note. Recent procurement records show that several of their subsidiaries have been supplying raw materials and other resources to contractors affiliated with the Magus Spire."

Seraphine lifted her gaze toward Silvena.

"I cannot confirm whether the Spire itself is involved, but the connection is legitimate."

"Did you compare when those guilds were founded?" Silvena asked.

"I did, My Lady. Most were established within the last five to six years — different investors appear on the records, but several of them received substantial loans from the same three merchant houses."

Silvena leaned forward and rested her chin against her folded hands.

Judging from Seraphine’s report, whoever stood behind this had been careful not to establish the guilds directly.

The structure was purpose-built: someone funded the merchants; those merchants financed the smaller guilds; and those smaller guilds handled the actual business, leaving the true benefactors several layers removed from the filth.

"Those three merchant houses. Who guarantees their loans?"

Silvena asked evenly.

Seraphine paused, momentarily taken aback. "I did not investigate that far."

Silvena gave a faint smile.

"Then, please look into it."

"Understood."

After saying that, Silvena returned to her thoughts.

She was intrigued to hear that the Magus Spire had ties to these guilds, however indirect.

But why?

Was it simply to secure resources through intermediaries? To obscure procurement records and avoid drawing attention to certain shipments?

That did not make much sense.

The Magus Spire hardly needed such convoluted methods to acquire raw materials. With its influence, wealth, and authority, it could purchase almost anything openly without raising suspicion.

So why bother hiding behind merchants, lenders, and minor guilds? Unless the resources themselves were never the point.

’Huh? This is indeed amusing.’

Before Silvena could dwell on it further, Seraphine spoke again, her tone carrying a faint trace of dryness.

"There is one more matter, My Lady. I have already dealt with the Natoris Guild. Their numbers have been cut down enough that I doubt they will trouble the Castelor family again."

Seraphine paused, then added, "I also stationed a few of our people nearby, as you requested. They’ll keep an eye on the Castelor family for the time being."

A trace of exasperation crossed her otherwise stern expression before she sighed. "That man truly has a talent for finding trouble."

Silvena gave a soft laugh at that. Then, she leaned back slightly, her smile lingering.

"Thank you for handling it, Seraphine. And yes, Ruvian does seem to invite trouble wherever he goes."

Her eyes narrowed faintly in thought.

"But I doubt that is all there is to him."

Something about Ruvian Castelor still intrigued her.

Perhaps it was only instinct, but Silvena had learned long ago not to dismiss it. Because her instincts were rarely wrong.

*****

[Calyra’s POV]

After blinking them clear of the Arcanis estate, Calyra immediately cast [Fly] and surged toward Frostgrave Fortress, one arm locked around Ruvian to keep him steady.

Within moments, they were already several hundred feet above the ground.

The wind tore viciously at them at that height, though Calyra’s [Magic Barrier] had already dulled its force into little more than a distant howl.

Whoosh~! Whoosh~! Whoosh~!

She still had not received a proper explanation from Ruvian, only the barest warning of what he had seen.

But knowing that his visions tended to surface at seemingly arbitrary yet critical moments, Calyra chose to trust him without hesitation.

She had felt uneasy ever since Ruvian mentioned his ominous vision of Frostgrave, and that alone hastened her toward the fortress.

Truthfully, she only hoped it was nothing dire. This was her beloved hometown, after all.

If Frostgrave fell...

No, she refused to entertain the thought.

From their aerial vantage, Calyra gazed down at the sprawling cityscape below. Beyond it, looming across the northern horizon, stood Frostgrave Fortress.

"We’re almost there," Calyra said, using [Voice Transmission] to carry her words cleanly through the rushing air.

She was not flying at an extreme speed, but the relentless wind at this altitude was still enough to garble ordinary speech.

With a thin veil of [Wind Magic] carrying his voice, Ruvian calmly replied, "Alright. Take us straight to the fortress."

Calyra gave a curt nod and angled downward, accelerating toward Frostgrave.

*****

[Evrard’s POV]

Lord Evrard climbed the final flight of stone stairs toward the highest level of Frostgrave Fortress, his boots striking hard against the worn steps.

Cold air slipped through the narrow arrow slits along the walls, carrying the smell of iron, and smoke from the yards below.

Beside him walked Commander Fajarn Ludger, the man entrusted with Frostgrave whenever the Arcanis family was absent.

The commander was already past fifty, broad in the shoulders and marked by years spent along the northern border. A faded scar ran from his right temple to his jaw, while streaks of gray cut through his short black hair.

They passed another landing where several soldiers stood guard, each man straightening the moment they saw Evrard approach.

Evrard gave them only a brief nod before continuing upward, while Garran returned their salute with a small motion of his hand.

Through the open passages, Evrard caught brief glimpses of the fortress below — some soldiers moved languidly between the barracks, their steps sluggish and visibly enervated.

Evrard’s brow furrowed at the sight.

The moment they reached the summit, his cloak billowed behind him as he strode across the stone platform, the vast northern expanse unfolding beyond the battlements beneath a pallid blue sky.

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[Chapter 382: Defend the Frostgrave Fortress (2)

Plot Points = 303,000