Chapter 402

Chapter 402: Chapter 402

The following morning, Lynn returned to Gold and Silver Street for another round of shopping.

The stalls lining both sides of the street had already opened for business. Some vendors were arranging their merchandise, others were shouting to attract customers, and several were locked in fierce negotiations with prospective buyers.

There were noticeably more wizards shopping today than on previous days. They gathered in small groups before the stalls, pointing at various goods and arguing over prices with the goblin merchants.

Walking alone among them, Lynn attracted little attention. In his expensive robes, he looked like an ordinary young wizard from a wealthy family who had come to purchase supplies.

He eventually stopped before a stall selling protective equipment.

The stall itself was not particularly large, yet nearly every available space had been filled with merchandise. Plate armor, chainmail, leather armor, helmets, bracers, greaves, and shields were neatly arranged across several wooden racks.

Lynn casually selected a silver breastplate and examined it.

The metal had been polished until it was smooth enough to reflect his face. Delicate patterns had been engraved along its edges, forming lines of goblin runes.

Lynn recognized a few of them. Their meanings were roughly along the lines of durability, lightness, and magic resistance.

He turned the breastplate over and inspected its interior. There were no runes on the reverse side, but the metal had been lined with a thin layer of felt, most likely to provide cushioning and prevent the armor from chafing against the wearer.

The goblin stallholder immediately perked up at the sight of a potential customer. He rose from his chair, straightened his clothes, and cleared his throat before enthusiastically introducing the breastplate.

"Sir, you have an excellent eye! This armor was forged using a secret technique passed down through my family for three generations. In the entire Goblin Kingdom, only we can produce plate armor of this quality!"

He raised three fingers and waved them in front of Lynn before pointing at the runes engraved along the breastplate.

"Look here. This is an anti-magic rune unique to goblin craftsmanship, capable of resisting most jinxes and hexes. And observe the curvature of the breastplate. It was designed according to—"

The goblin continued talking without pause.

Lynn appeared to be listening, nodding occasionally, but in truth, he had not absorbed a single word.

His gaze quietly swept back and forth across the street as he searched for the two goblins assigned to follow him that day.

Ever since Lynn began exploring the city-state, two different goblins had shadowed him almost every day.

They remained several dozen paces away—not close enough to appear obvious, but not far enough to lose sight of him. They wore ordinary clothes and blended into the crowds, pretending to browse merchandise, chat with merchants, or greet passersby.

The goblins seemed to believe their disguises were flawless.

To Lynn’s perception, however, their constant staring was so obvious that it was almost insulting.

Something was different today.

No matter how carefully Lynn searched, he could find only one of the two goblins assigned to watch him.

That goblin was standing across the street, pretending to purchase fruit.

Lynn scanned the road from one end to the other and then checked again, but there was no sign of a second watcher.

He scratched his head thoughtfully.

Had the palace run out of goblins to spare, or had they finally decided that one spy was enough?

Whatever the reason, having fewer eyes on him could only be a good thing. It would make slipping away much easier.

Lynn immediately returned the breastplate to the stallholder.

"I’ll look around a little more."

Without waiting for a response, he turned and hurried deeper into Gold and Silver Street.

The goblin merchant froze, still holding the breastplate with one hand while pointing at its runes with the other.

He blinked several times before hurriedly checking the armor. Only after confirming that nothing had been stolen did he release a relieved breath.

Not a thief. Good, good.

He returned the breastplate to its rack, shook his head, and muttered, "Young people these days have no patience at all."

The goblin following Lynn immediately set down the fruit he had been pretending to examine and gave chase.

He slipped through the crowded street, weaving between pedestrians while keeping his gaze fixed on Lynn’s back.

Lynn led him through several turns and past one alley after another. Then, after rounding another corner, he suddenly disappeared.

The goblin hurried to the alley entrance and stopped, looking around in confusion.

His attention soon settled on a narrow side passage filled with clutter. Old wooden crates had been stacked against the walls beside several rusty iron barrels and bundles of dry firewood.

The alley was so narrow that a person could only pass through it sideways. The surrounding buildings blocked most of the sunlight, making it impossible to see what lay in its depths.

"Did he go in there?"

The goblin muttered to himself.

After hesitating for a moment, he cautiously entered the alley.

A voice suddenly sounded beside his ear.

"Who are you looking for?"

The goblin whipped his head around and saw Lynn raising his wand.

A flash of white light erupted from its tip.

Before the goblin could understand what was happening, his perspective abruptly overturned. He felt himself falling in one direction while his body toppled in another, and for one brief, bewildering moment, he saw his own headless corpse collapsing backward.

Then his consciousness vanished.

Lynn flicked his wand again.

Golden-red flames shot from its tip and landed on the corpse. The moment they touched it, they erupted and swiftly engulfed the entire body.

Cremate the corpse, reduce the bones to ash, and scatter the remains.

Lynn had performed the process so many times that every movement came naturally.

Within moments, only a small pile of ash remained, most of which was quickly carried away by the wind.

Lynn stepped forward and ground the remaining ashes beneath his shoe to ensure that no recognizable traces survived. He then waved his wand, releasing a stream of water that washed the blood from the stone pavement.

The dark red water flowed through the cracks between the stones and disappeared into the sewer.

In the blink of an eye, the alley was clean, as though nothing had ever happened.

Lynn slipped his wand back into his sleeve, straightened his robes, and calmly walked out of the alley.

His next objective was to investigate the palace treasury, but he would first need a way inside that did not alert the goblins.

The last thing he wanted was to trigger another war between goblins and wizards. He could not simply create an enormous disaster and leave everyone else to clean it up after him.

After considering the problem, Lynn remembered an elderly goblin named Samael whom he had seen at the banquet.

Samael appeared to hold considerable authority within the kingdom. More importantly, he should know how to enter the goblin treasury without attracting attention.

...

As an elder of the Goblin Kingdom, Samael remained busy from morning until night.

By the time he finally left the pyramid and returned home, the sun had already begun to set.

His house stood deep within the Residential District, roughly a fifteen-minute walk from the pyramid. It was a sturdy stone building with a tiled roof, glass windows, and a large copper ring mounted on the front door.

A small courtyard lay before the house, planted with several unfamiliar trees and clusters of flowers.

Samael pushed open the door, stepped inside, and closed it behind him. He crossed the room, lowered himself onto the sofa, and leaned back with his eyes closed.

His mind instinctively reviewed the matters he had handled throughout the day.

The Forging District was suffering from shortages of raw materials. The Commercial District had failed to collect enough rent. Residents had also complained that several disputes in the Residential District had been handled unfairly.

Every problem was a headache.

Samael was about to relax when he suddenly felt something hard and cold press against the back of his head.

His mind went blank.

It was a wand.

"You’d better not move," a voice said from behind him. "My wand was bitten by a dog when it was young, and it has suffered from a nervous temperament ever since. It would be a terrible shame if it became frightened and accidentally blew your head apart."

Several seconds passed before Samael fully understood his situation.

"Mr. Lynn," he said carefully, "what are you doing?"

"I was about to ask you the same question," Lynn replied, his voice laced with sarcasm. "You’ve been sending two goblins to follow me every day. I believe you owe me an explanation."

Samael’s eyes flickered.

He immediately realized that something had gone wrong, but his expression remained perfectly calm.

He had served four generations of goblin kings. His composure and experience were more than sufficient to remain unmoved even if a mountain collapsed before him.

"They were not following you," Samael explained smoothly. "They were secretly protecting you."

"You are an honored guest from Hogwarts. His Majesty was concerned that you were unfamiliar with the city-state and might become lost or encounter trouble, so he assigned several guards to watch over you from a distance."

Samael paused, as though allowing Lynn time to absorb the explanation.

"If their presence made you uncomfortable, I will ask His Majesty to withdraw them."

"There’s no need to go through all that trouble," Lynn replied calmly. "If everything proceeds smoothly, I’ll be leaving tonight."

Samael felt no relief upon hearing this.

"But before I leave," Lynn continued, lowering his voice, "I need you to do me a favor."

Samael’s body stiffened.

His instincts warned him that this "favor" would not be anything good.

"What favor?" he asked.

"Take me to your treasury."

"Impossible!" Samael’s voice rose sharply. "The path is heavily guarded!"

"That is precisely why I need your help."

Before Samael could answer, the wand pressed against the back of his head suddenly moved away.

The pressure vanished so abruptly that he froze for a moment before instinctively turning around.

A spell was already rushing toward him.

"Imperio."

---

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