Wandering Merchant

Isolde paused, puzzled.

There was actually a hidden room here.

She raised a hand and touched the chain. A sharp pain immediately pricked her fingertips.

A chill burrowed in through her skin, as if something behind the door were watching her.

Isolde quickly withdrew her hand.

Even her authority as the Castle's new owner could not open this thing.

Either Valen had hidden it too deeply, or the Castle itself held even older secrets.

Lia stood beside her and asked whether she should force it open.

Isolde refused outright.

She had only just become the new owner. There was no need to start by tearing apart the underground restricted zone.

Behind doors that could not be opened, there usually was not any beginner's gift pack waiting.

Besides, the usable areas of the Castle were already vast enough. Just walking through them all was exhausting.

Isolde glanced at her measly 18 points of attributes and sighed silently.

For the time being, she and strength simply were not meant to be. Naturally, her stamina left much to be desired as well.

"Seal it for now," she said. "We'll look at it later."

Lia nodded. "Yes, Miss."

Two days later, Isolde finally had a general grasp of the Castle's situation.

This Castle was not an ordinary residence.

Its outer layer could confuse intruders, its inner layer could trap targets, the Banquet Hall could carry out rule-based judgments, and the underground laboratory could process materials and modify Puppets.

Valen had previously used it only as a lair. What a waste.

But Isolde had no plans to make major changes immediately.

First, she lacked resources. Second, there was no need.

The Castle's most important role now was not actively luring in prey, but concealing, protecting, and storing resources.

It needed to remain quietly within the gray mist, the more inconspicuous the better.

The one who truly needed to make a move was herself.

She sat in the hall and sorted through the information she had gathered over the past two days.

Lia's enhancement path had been decided.

The Castle warehouse was also functioning normally.

The outer traps could maintain minimum defenses, while the illusion array would temporarily retain only its concealment effect.

The unknown basement was sealed away.

The underground laboratory would continue to be cleared out, to be used later for making Puppets and processing materials.

All that remained was to go out.

There were several resource points in the early stages of Fallen Realm that she had to secure as soon as possible.

Some skill books, materials, and hidden quests would soon fall into the players' hands if she did not seize them.

And there were also certain people who had survived by stepping on her in her previous life.

They had not yet grown strong. This was the perfect time to snuff them out in the cradle.

Isolde lifted her cold tea and slowly took a sip.

The bitterness spread across her tongue, making her clearer-headed instead.

The Castle was her trump card.

A trump card could not be revealed every day.

What she had to do was hide herself, hide the Castle, then seize everything she could before anyone else had time to react.

Lie low, head out quietly, and pick up whatever she could.

Kill when it was time to kill.

Lia suddenly spoke. "Miss, there is one more matter."

Isolde raised her eyes. "Speak."

Over the past two days, she had gradually grown accustomed to being the Castle's owner.

Lia lowered her gaze. "The body parts sent from the northern lands will arrive at the Castle the day after tomorrow."

Isolde froze.

She had nearly forgotten.

Valen had indeed mentioned before that batch of body parts was important material for his next fusion.

Isolde suddenly became interested. Anything Valen valued so highly had to be good stuff.

"Have them deliver it as usual."

Lia asked, "Should we activate the defenses?"

"No."

Isolde raised a hand and lightly brushed the Secretsight Button on her cuff.

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"Open the front gate."

Lia asked, "Miss, will you receive them personally?"

Isolde smiled very gently.

"Of course. They've come all this way to deliver materials to our door. How rude would it be if I, the new shop owner, did not receive them personally?"

At dusk two days later, the sound of bells came from beyond the gray mist.

The ringing was crisp and clear, yet in the deathly silent deadwood forest, it sent chills down one's neck.

Isolde stood by a second-floor window of the Castle, using her fingertips to part half the black veil.

In the distance, the mist parted and a vehicle slowly approached.

But on closer inspection, it was not really a vehicle. Sixteen withered branches extended from beneath it, like a row of fingers stepping across the damp ground and dragging the carriage forward inch by inch.

The carriage was tall and narrow, like a mobile general store sharpened to a point.

Small signs hung all over its door, gently clinking together as the carriage swayed. They were covered in dense writing and labels.

Some were in the common tongue, while others were symbols Isolde could not understand.

Lia stood stiffly behind her and reported:

"Miss, the deliveryman has arrived."

"I can see that."

Isolde lowered the window veil and turned toward the stairs.

Today, she was not wearing that white dress. Instead, she had changed back into a black gown that looked extremely luxurious.

She was now the Castle's owner. Since she was meeting a merchant, she could no longer pretend to be some innocent little victim.

When doing business, one needed a little presence.

Otherwise, people would think her shop was new, its owner inexperienced, and easy to fleece.

The Castle gates slowly opened.

Faceless Attendants stood silently on both sides, parting the mist down the middle.

The mobile general store stopped before the gate.

The sixteen branches beneath it retracted at once, neatly pressing against the base.

The entire carriage stood steadily in place, like a little shop that had suddenly landed and opened for business.

The carriage door opened with a creak.

A person stepped out from inside.

Calling him a person was, honestly, a bit of a stretch.

He was very tall and thin as a dried clothes hanger.

He wore a long coat sewn together from old cloth, leather, animal fur, and contract paper. Small bottles, copper coins, and pointed fangs hung from its edges.

With every step he took, he jingled and clattered like a scarecrow covered in ornaments.

His face had no features, only a white mask.

A strange smiling face was painted on the mask, its mouth curled high. The longer one looked at it, the more it seemed to be mocking everyone who tried to reason with him.

Isolde watched him for a moment, confirming that she had never seen him before.

The wandering merchant raised a hand, removed his top hat, and gave her an elegant bow.

"Good day, beautiful lady."

"I have goods here that Duke Valen ordered ten years ago. He needs to sign for them personally."

Isolde smiled. "Goods from ten years ago?"

She remembered that the original owner had only sought refuge with Valen five years ago and become his adopted daughter.

She had not expected this shipment to have been ordered even earlier than she had been.

Seeing that she did not respond, the wandering merchant continued, "More precisely, these are goods Duke Valen reserved, which require his personal signature and payment of the remaining balance."

Isolde stood before the gate, the smile on her face unchanged—if anything, it had grown even gentler.

"Duke Valen is unwell and cannot receive visitors."

The man tilted his head. "What sort of illness?"

Isolde said, "The sort where he will never wake up again. I'm afraid he cannot sign for them personally."

The man said, "..."

The air fell silent for a moment.

A moment later, the man gave a low laugh.

"So that's how it is. No wonder this Castle smells different."

He put his top hat back on.

Only then did Isolde notice several faded copper coins and a few bleached finger bones sewn onto its brim.

The man smoothed his cuff and bowed to her again.

"Then please allow me to introduce myself anew. I am Ullr, the Third Wandering Merchant—one of the Contract God's most loyal followers."

"My primary business includes, but is not limited to, selling forbidden materials, mistaken destinies, expired oracles, and all kinds of inheritances left unclaimed after their buyers' deaths."