Fourth-rank fluctuations swept across Silver Crown City's eastern district.
Elven Merchant Association headquarters.
Elvin sat in an armchair holding a white porcelain teacup as the solid fourth-rank fluctuations slammed straight into the tower windows, making the hardwood frames hum violently.
The old man's hand trembled, and the exceedingly precious white porcelain teacup fell straight to the floor, shattering into pieces. Fine tea spilled across the carpet.
Elvin rose to his feet, clasped his hands behind his back, and walked to the window.
He stared toward Ginkgo Alley in the east for a long while. He had sensed the aether aura of his own bloodline—steady, without the slightest trace of instability, even purer than that of many elven elders who had cultivated bitterly for centuries.
Hearing the commotion outside, an attendant hurried into the room.
"Great Elder, an extremely powerful aether fluctuation has erupted in the eastern district. Should we send someone to investigate?" the attendant asked.
Elvin turned and waved a hand.
"No need to investigate." Elvin's voice was very low. "That is her home."
Second floor of the goblin Silver Claw Merchant Guild.
Barlow was buried beneath a half-meter-high pile of ledgers, flicking an abacus as he calculated the day's income.
The costly aether monitor above his head burst in a spray of blue sparks. Its copper gears all jammed, pungent black smoke rose from its iron casing, and its precision components were completely destroyed.
Barlow snapped the ledger in his hand shut and collapsed into his leather chair.
He pulled a filthy handkerchief from his robes and vigorously wiped the cold sweat continuously beading atop his head.
Two guards shoved open the door and rushed inside.
Barlow grabbed his abacus and smashed it down on the desk.
"Notify every shop and caravan below!" Barlow shouted at the guards.