Fendrel insisted they sit at one of the stone benches in the Torvares garden, his classroom, as he dramatically called it. Ludger sat opposite him, arms crossed, expression flat, ready to absorb information the same way he absorbed combat techniques: seriously and without blinking.

  Fendrel cleared his throat, straightened his vest, and suddenly shifted into a completely different person. Gone was the excitable, over-the-top merchant who nearly passed out praising sculptures. What remained was a razor-sharp professional.

  “Alright, Master Ludger. Business, real business, is built on three pillars,” he began, tone calm and articulate. “Value. Demand. Leverage.”

  Ludger nodded once. “Explain.”

  Fendrel lifted a single finger.

  “First: Value. A product is worth whatever a buyer believes it’s worth. Not what it costs to make, not what you think it should be. Nobles value prestige and exclusivity above all else. Your sculptures are rare, powerful, and crafted by a prodigy. They will pay… absurd amounts.”

  He raised a second finger.

  “Second: Demand. Even a priceless item is useless if no one wants it. We create demand by controlling information, limiting availability, and presenting your work as unique, no mass production, no common requests. You accept commissions selectively. This inflates demand.”

  Ludger tilted his head. “So exclusivity breeds desperation.”

  “Exactly!” Fendrel stabbed a finger at him. “And desperation loosens purses.”

  Then he raised a third finger.

  “Third: Leverage. This is negotiation, your ability to pull more value out of a deal than the other side expects. You must know when to push, when to retreat, when to praise, and when to threaten. Indirectly, of course.”

  Ludger frowned. “Threaten?”

  “In polite merchant terms,” Fendrel said, “we call it creating consequences for unfavorable terms.”

  Kaela, who was listening nearby, whispered, “Oh, I like him.”

  Fendrel continued smoothly.

  “Whenever possible, use what the buyer wants against them. Nobles want status? You imply someone else is interested in the same piece. Nobles want power? You hint that your sculpture offers mana reinforcement. Nobles want connection? You make the sale personal.”

  He leaned forward.

  “And that, Master Ludger, is the core of successful trade—control the conversation, control the buyer.”

  Ludger processed that quietly. “Simple. Direct. Logical.”

  Fendrel smiled. “The basics are. The execution is an art.”

  He then launched into a rapid-fire explanation: How to set a price range based on the client’s rank. How to avoid being undercut by false offers. When to refuse a deal to build prestige. How to upsell without appearing greedy. How to read body language. How to control the pacing of negotiations. And the subtle legal loopholes that protect merchants from unfair noble demands

  Ludger absorbed it all like water to sand and then smiled.

  [New Job Unlocked: Merchant Lv. 1]

  Bonus per Level: +2 INT, +2 DEX, +2 LUK

  Skill Acquired: [Trade Insight Lv. 1]

  You gain an instinctive understanding of the true value of goods, services, and deals.

  Allows you to: Identify fair or unfair prices at a glance. Detect hidden fees, intentional misleading, or predatory trade tactics. Negotiate with increased chance of favorable outcomes. Reduce buying price or increase selling price depending on situation. Effect scales with Intelligence, Dexterity , and Luck.

  At one point he asked, “You said earlier nobles will pay obscene amounts. How obscene?”

  Fendrel leaned back, expression dead-serious.

  “For one of your full sculptures? With the proper marketing?”

  He held up five fingers.

  “Five hundred diamond coins.”

  Ludger blinked once. “…You’re joking.”

  “I am not.” Fendrel’s eyes gleamed. “Prestige sells. Your work isn’t merely skillful, it carries mana. That alone places it alongside ancient relics and enchanted artisanship. This will be the talk of the capital. If you create more masterpieces that makes my heart feel with joy and power, it is obvious.”

  Viola, who had joined the discussion, whispered, “Okay… he really is the real deal.”

  Maurien nodded. “I’m convinced.”

  Gaius grunted. “He talks too much… but he talks truth.”

  Ludger crossed his arms. “Fine. I’ll trust you with commissions. For now.”

  Fendrel clutched his chest dramatically. “Master Ludger, you honor me! I swear on my life, my business, and my overly polished boots, I will not disappoint!”

  Ludger ignored the theatrics and stood, mind already turning. This man was loud. Strange. Eccentric. But his business sense was sharp as a blade. And that meant Ludger had just gained exactly what he needed: A foothold in the capital, and a merchant who could weaponize it.

  Ludger got to work immediately. After the meeting with Fendrel, he spent the next two days in the garden shaping earth with a precision that bordered on artistry. The capital needed to know his name, not through rumor or noble gossip, but through something tangible. Something anyone could see.

  So he crafted sculptures. Lots of them. Not the towering masterpieces like the Gaius statue, but smaller pieces, affordable, portable, decorative. Each one enchanted just lightly enough that they emitted a faint mana aura, not powerful, but noticeable. Enough to make nobles curious.

  Fendrel nearly cried tears of joy at the collection.

  “These will sell like FIRE!” he shouted while lifting a miniature flame drake over his head. “Capital nobles love décor! The commonfolk love souvenirs! The mage academies love symbolism! It’s PERFECT!”

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  Ludger didn’t respond. He simply shaped another creature, a serpentine stone dragon with exaggerated horns.

  Kaela approached with a smug grin, hands behind her head.

  “So,” she said, leaning close, “if you’re making sculptures of elemental beasts and famous faces… how about one of me?”

  Ludger paused. Kaela flicked her hair dramatically. “Obviously it would sell like hotcakes. I mean, look at me. Half the capital already whispers about the ‘mysterious wind mage beauty.’ You’d be printing money.”

  Maurien, passing by, muttered, “No one whispers that.”

  Kaela ignored him. “Think about it, Ludger. My likeness in stone on rich noble tables everywhere. It’s genius. Also,” She tapped his shoulder. “Edits. I want a commission. Fifty percent. For using my image.”

  Ludger slowly turned to her.

  “…No.”

  Kaela gasped. “No? NO?! Do you know how much profit you’re missing,”

  Ludger resumed sculpting, completely ignoring her theatrics.

  Kaela stomped her foot. “This is discrimination! Sculpt the old man—” She pointed at Gaius, who didn’t even bother to look up. “, but not ME?!”

  Still ignored.

  She leaned in closer, trying again. “What about one with me holding a dagger? Or me mid-kick? Or one of me stepping on a bandit’s face?”

  Silence.

  Kaela crossed her arms, pouting. “You’re making a terrible business decision. Horrible. Tragic.”

  Gaius grunted from the other side of the garden, “He’s making a wise business decision. No one wants your face frightening their visitors.”

  Kaela glared at him. “IT’S CALLED CHARISMA!”

  The recruits snickered nearby. Despite Kaela’s complaints, Ludger stayed focused. He finished a set of a dozen sculptures, handed them to Fendrel, and gave one simple command:

  “Sell them cheap. Spread the name.”

  Fendrel bowed so hard his forehead nearly hit the grass. “At once, Master Ludger!”

  As the merchant scurried off with the crates, Ludger brushed the stone dust from his hands. This wasn’t about profit. Not yet. This was about reputation, influence, presence,

  the first seeds of a Lionsguard network in the capital. And it was working.

  Over the next few days, Ludger put his new Merchant job to the test. Not in theory. Not in lectures.

  In the brutal, cutthroat arena of the capital marketplace, the place where merchants hunted customers like predators and prices shifted depending on mood, weather, and how rich you looked.

  Ludger walked through the stalls with a calm, unreadable expression. His cloak was plain, his stance relaxed, and his mana signature hidden. To the casual eye, he was just another young noble’s attendant doing errands. Perfect.

  He stopped at a potion stall, one of the biggest in the district. Rows of neatly stacked bottles glowed with blue, green, and crimson mana. Behind the counter stood a merchant with sharp eyes and sharper instincts.

  “Looking for anything, young man?” the merchant asked.

  “Mana potions,” Ludger said. “Bulk.”

  The merchant perked up like a hawk that spotted its next meal. “Bulk orders get discounts! How many?”

  “A hundred.”

  The merchant’s eyes gleamed with pure greed. “Ah, wonderful! That will be—”

  Before he could finish, Ludger felt something shift in his mind. Instinctive awareness flared, numbers, values, risk, margin, expectation. The merchant’s intended price came to Ludger as easily as sensing mana. The merchant was trying to overcharge by 28%. Ludger didn’t blink.

  “That’s too high,” he said flatly.

  The merchant sputtered. “H-High? What do you mean high? This is the standard bulk price—”

  “No, the standard bulk price is this.”

  He named a value. A precise one. A number painfully close to the merchant’s actual break-even margin. The merchant froze.

  “Well,” he stuttered, “that’s… quite low, but perhaps I could—”

  Ludger cut him off. “And I know you need to move stock quickly. I can take one hundred now. Or I can buy somewhere else.”

  The man narrowed his eyes, reevaluating him. He clearly thought Ludger was just another child, until now.

  After a tense moment, he sighed. “Fine. That amount is acceptable.”

  They made the exchange. As Ludger tucked the storage pouch away, something pulsed inside him.

  [Trade Insight – +20 Experience ]

  Ludger blinked.

  Twenty experience. From one deal. So that’s how it worked. He stepped out of the stall and tested the idea, speaking quietly to himself:

  “The more money I save in a negotiation… the more experience the skill gives me.”

  It wasn’t about buying or selling alone, it was about value extraction.The greater the difference between the original price and the negotiated one, the more the skill rewarded him.

  Kaela, who had tagged along and pretended to be a bored bodyguard, leaned closer. “How much did you save us?”

  “About twenty silver coins.”

  Kaela whistled. “Damn.”

  Ludger nodded, already scanning the next row of shops with a calculating stare that made a few merchants swallow nervously. This job wasn’t about smiling or small talk. This was combat by another name. A battlefield of words, prices, and leverage. And Ludger was just getting started.

  While Ludger spent his days shaping stone beasts in the garden, haggling with merchants in the market, and learning the fine art of capitalism like the last two weeks of political disaster had never happened, Viola was buried under an avalanche of paperwork inside the manor.

  Dozens of reports, Senate notices, merchant correspondences, and requests from Torvares territory sprawled across her desk like a battlefield of ink and parchment. She moved through them with steady discipline, stamping, sorting, rejecting, approving, her quill scratching nonstop.

  Thanks to Luna no longer being assigned to covert surveillance for the moment, Viola finally had fewer reports requiring double or triple verification. The workload was still heavy, but at least the crushing mountain had shrunk to a manageable hill.

  Every now and then, she leaned back in her chair, stretched her neck, and let her eyes wander toward the window that faced the garden. And, inevitably, she’d witness some variation of the following:

  Ludger walking by with an armful of stone wolf statues. Ludger dragging a crate full of miniature drakes. Ludger returning from the market with five bags of ingredients and a ledger under his arm. Ludger stepping out to negotiate something with Fendrel, who was waving papers wildly.

  Viola pinched the bridge of her nose every single time.

  “…He never makes any sense,” she muttered.

  Luna appeared soundlessly beside her, no footsteps, no warning, like a ghost taking a lunch break.

  She picked up one of Viola’s quills and twirled it lazily between her fingers as she, too, glanced at the window.

  Below, Ludger was currently shaping a small stone phoenix while two servants and a group of children from the street watched in awe.

  “He fought a runic monster wearing arcane thrusters,” Viola said, exasperated. “He infiltrated the Velis League. He nearly blew up in Coria. He uncovered a conspiracy involving half the Senate. And now, now he’s learning how to act like a merchant?”

  Luna shrugged. “He is your little brother.”

  Viola frowned. “And what does that mean?”

  Luna’s mouth curved into the smallest flicker of a smirk.

  “It means,” she said quietly, “that odd behavior clearly runs in the family.”

  Viola blinked, indignant. “What?”

  Luna gestured toward the table overflowing with papers. “You’re one of the few nobles who voluntarily reads every report. You duel through political meetings. You yell loud enough to shake marble floors. And you adopted an assassin like me as a personal aide.”

  Viola opened her mouth to argue.

  Luna continued. “And the rest of your family includes: A terrifying sort of step-mother. A grandfather who scares half the Senate by sneezing. A father who bench-presses boulders. And your twelve-year-old brother who sculpts legendary monsters for fun between political crises.”

  She tilted her head.

  “So yes. Ludger is odd. But it runs in the family.”

  Viola stared at her for a moment… then sighed and leaned back in her chair.

  “…I cannot even deny it.”

  Outside, Ludger finished the phoenix. It flared with faint mana light as he placed it onto Fendrel’s cart. The merchant squealed like someone had handed him a crown. Viola rubbed her temples.

  “We’re doomed,” she muttered.

  Luna nodded, utterly serious. “Most likely.”

  But there was fondness in her voice.