Chapter 88: Back to the Shop

“By the carrot gods!” Tibbar whimpered from behind his marble pillar, clutching his mahogany cane with shaking paws. “They… they had some kind of death curse inside them! Silvester, tell me we are leaving! I want to go home and lock the doors!”

Marquis Aaron lowered his saber, his face dark and grim as he stared at the pile of dissolving clothes on the floor. “A silencer spell woven directly into their bloodlines. Whoever sent these men made sure they could never spill any secrets if they were captured.”

Captain Dolman knelt beside the ash, poking it with the tip of his sword. “The body tissue is completely destroyed, My Lord. There is no trace left to identify them.”

I stood on the stage, holding the empty iron book under my arm. The dark thread mana inside those men had killed them the second they tried to reveal their mission.

That meant whoever was orchestrating this attack possessed high authority over the black thread energy, enough to trigger a lethal curse from miles away.

“Well, that was pleasant,” I said, wiping a bit of black dust off my sleeve. “Always great when the suspects turn into pile of ash before giving us any useful answers.”

Tibbar peeked out from behind his pillar, his grey ears twitching nervously. “Is it over? Can I stop hiding behind this stone now?”

“Yes, Tibbar,” I sighed, setting the iron book under my arm. “The bad guys are ash, the mages are crying, and we are still alive. You can come out now.”

Marquis Aaron walked over to the stage, looking down at the broken chains and then at the book in my hands. His green eyes held a mixture of deep respect and lingering concern.

“Master Silvester,” the Marquis said, his booming voice cutting through the quiet murmurs of the room. “You disarmed a dangerous artifact and kept this gallery from turning into a disaster zone. The House of Felis owes you a great debt.”

“I was just protecting my potential client,” I replied smoothly. “And making sure the roof didn’t collapse on my suit.”

Colleen marched up beside her father, her blue silk dress slightly wrinkled from the commotion, but her pink cat ears were standing tall with pure pride.

“See, Father?” Colleen boasted, crossing her arms and looking up at the Marquis. “I told you Silvester was amazing! Julian couldn’t even pull his own sword out, but Silvester cracked the ancient chains like they were made of cheap plastic!”

Marquis Aaron pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out a heavy sigh. “Colleen, please do not bring up your brother right now. He is currently hiding in his room, weeping into his pillow out of pure shame.”

“Good!” Colleen smirked. “He deserves it for calling my favorite locksmith a street tinkerer!”

The Marquis turned his attention back to me, glancing at the empty book. “Our palace scholars believed that tome held destructive high-tier magic. But as we all saw, it appears to be nothing more than a blank notebook wrapped in soul-steel. Since you unlocked it, you may keep it as a personal token from my house.”

“Are you sure, My Lord?” I asked, keeping my tone polite. “Some nobles might consider an ancient iron book a valuable antique.”

“A blank antique is useless to my treasury,” Marquis Aaron chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Besides, you earned it. Consider it an extra bonus alongside your fifty gold pieces.”

“Thank you, Lord Governor,” I bowed slightly. “I will add it to my collection of strange iron things.”

While the palace guards began clearing the room and ushering the frightened guests toward the main exit, Tibbar finally trotted over to my side. His knees were still shaking so hard that his velvet trousers were rustling.

“Silvester,” Tibbar whispered, leaning close so the guards wouldn’t hear him. “Are we really keeping that creepy book? What if it turns into ash too? What if it explodes while we are sleeping?”

“It won’t explode, Tibbar,” I chuckled, tapping the dark iron cover with my knuckle. “It is completely cold. Whatever mana was inside it died when the chains broke.”

“Easy for you to say,” Tibbar grumbled, adjusting his gold bowtie. “You didn’t almost get eaten by black thread monsters! My tail is still stiff from fear!”

“Come on, Master Assistant,” I said, walking toward the grand exit doors. “Let us go collect our gold and catch our carriage. You can complain all the way back to the Lower City.”

We stepped out into the main ballroom, where the remaining guests were still whispering in hushed, panicked tones. The grand crystal chandelier was still hanging slightly crooked from the ceiling, its mana core flickering with a weak blue light.

As we walked past the entrance archway, I spotted Lord Julian standing near a marble pillar. His face was pale, his eyes red with frustration, and his hands were trembling as he tried to look dignified in front of his fellow knights.

He caught me looking at him and immediately turned his back, pretending to examine a painting on the wall.

“Nice painting, isn’t it, Lord Julian?” I called out casually as we passed by.

Julian stiffened, his shoulders rising to his ears, but he didn’t dare turn around or say a single word.

Colleen, who was walking slightly behind us with her wolf guards, let out a loud, ringing laugh that echoed across the entire ballroom. “Look at him, Silvester! He is pretending to be a statue! Maybe if he stands still enough, people will forget he couldn’t draw his rapier!”

“Colleen, behave yourself,” Marquis Aaron called out from behind, though there was a faint twitch of amusement in his grey whiskers.

We reached the front steps of the Grand Trade Palace, where our white-and-gold carriage was waiting. The panther driver jumped down, opening the door for us with a crisp bow.

“A quiet evening, gentlemen?” the driver asked innocently.

Tibbar let out a wild, breathless laugh as he threw himself into the soft red velvet cushions of the carriage. “Quiet?! People turned into black dust! The chandelier almost crushed the Governor! My ears are traumatized!”

“So, a normal noble party then,” the driver remarked, closing the door behind us.

The carriage rolled smoothly down the white marble streets of the Upper City, passing under the glowing glass lanterns and heading back toward the High Gate.

Inside the carriage, I sat by the window, resting the heavy iron book on my knees. I ran my fingers over the dark parchment pages once more under the soft light of the carriage lantern.

It was completely blank. Not a single trace of ink, no hidden magical threads, no physical layers.

‘Why?’ I thought, staring down at the empty white paper. ‘Why wrap an empty book in four layers of soul-steel? Why send five mercenaries to buy or steal a book with no words?’

“You are doing that face again,” Tibbar said, leaning back on the cushions and pulling a small velvet pouch from his coat pocket.

“What face?” I asked without looking up.

“The face you make when a customer brings in a lock that you can’t figure out in five seconds,” Tibbar grinned, bouncing the heavy pouch of fifty gold pieces in his paw. “Stop stressing over that dusty paper, Silvester! Look at this! Fifty gold pieces! Real, heavy, shiny gold!”

He opened the pouch and held it out, letting the bright yellow coins catch the lantern light.

“We are rich, Silvester!” Tibbar cheered, his previous terror completely forgotten. “We can buy three new brass lathes for the shop! We can hire two rabbit assistants to sweep the floor! I can eat buttered carrots for breakfast, lunch, and dinner!”

“Do not spend all of it on carrots, Tibbar,” I chuckled, looking out the window as the carriage passed through the High Gate and entered the familiar, smoky streets of the Lower City. “We still have rent to pay, even if Kino gave us a fifty percent discount.”

“Kino!” Tibbar scoffed, waving his paw dismissively. “That ratman will bow so low his nose will scrape the dirt next time he sees us! We have the Marquis’s personal badge now!”

The carriage eventually pulled up in front of The Earthen Vault. The dark wooden shop front looked quiet and peaceful under the moonlight, completely untouched by the chaos that had just taken place in the Upper City.

We hopped out of the carriage, thanking the panther driver before stepping up to our front door.

I pulled out my brass shop key, inserted it into the keyway, and turned it with a familiar, satisfying click.

The heavy wooden door swung open, the brass bell chiming softly above our heads.

Tink.

The smell of brass polish, fresh oak oil, and cold iron greeted us as we walked inside. It was quiet, safe, and completely normal.

Tibbar immediately walked behind the counter, carefully placing the heavy pouch of gold inside our floor safe. He turned the iron dial with a happy hum, locking the safe tight before flopping onto his stool with a deep, contented sigh.

Enjoying the journey? Don’t let the adventure stop here!