Chapter 512 — Chance Encounter

Wide, clean streets; tall, neatly planned buildings; magic-crystal streetlamps standing along the roadsides like guards; magical projections drifting in midair; and in the plazas, impossible magical machines on display...

The great merchant Corde sat in his carriage. As a mature and steady man of business, he had already managed to regulate his own state of mind and had begun observing the scene outside with a calm, composed expression—yet the waves in his heart had not subsided in the slightest.

Carol had once been a viscount's holding, but because it bordered the Holy Spirit Plain and enjoyed thriving trade, it had been one of the wealthiest regions in the Southern Marches. The prosperity of the city of Carol had always been a source of great satisfaction and pride to Corde—but compared with the wondrous city before him now...

No. There was no need to compare the two at all.

There was no trace in the air here of the stench of filth and rot so common to great cities, nor were ragged paupers and serfs to be seen walking along the streets. An indescribable "order" seemed to permeate the very air—an order Corde had never seen anywhere else.

He knew of the newly built government hall in Carol, and of the series of new laws it had promulgated—some of which had won local support, such as lowered taxes and the allocation of land, while others had been difficult to implement, such as the sanitation laws and certain labor regulations. Frankly speaking, even Corde could not fully comprehend the meaning of all those new policies—yet after witnessing the scene in Xuanyao City today, he had at least realized one thing:

Living in a city like this was, at the very least, more comfortable than living in Carol.

When he got back, he ought to rally the members of the merchants' association—at the very least, he had to make everyone willing to enforce the sanitation act...

The carriage left the bustling, lively market streets, and after two turns, the surroundings gradually grew quiet.

Pioneer Plaza stood right next to the government hall and the lord's manor, with only two streets separating them. There was no city wall between them, nor a moat—only a few guard posts securing the road leading into the administrative district. The merchant's carriage stopped at one of these posts to be inspected.

Corde and Pal had long since prepared the coins needed to grease the soldiers' palms. The moment the carriage came to a halt, they obeyed orders and stepped down at once—then saw a warrior clad in magic-energy armor stride over: "Halt for inspection—present your identification."

Corde hastily fished out from his breast the identification issued by the Cecil Department of Commerce, along with a letter of introduction signed personally by Minister Patrick. As he handed them to the soldier, he was mentally estimating how much it would take to grease a guard like this into compliance—though he had told Pal he had been to Cecil before, in truth he had come only once last year, following the family's trading fleet to sell raw medicinal materials, and he had not returned since. He could hardly claim to know much about this wondrous city.

That so-called "having been to Cecil" carried a fair bit of self-flattery.

And in the brief moment he spent pondering, the soldier had already finished checking the documents and confirming the black-and-white portrait on them. Two other soldiers inspected the carriage, and a crisp, efficient voice reached Corde's and Pal's ears: "Inspection passed—you may enter."

Corde nodded instinctively, then went blank: "Ah... ah?"

"You may enter," the soldier repeated. Noticing the merchant's bewildered expression, he glanced down at the documents in his hand and confirmed their contents once more. "There's really no problem—go on in, with your pass."

Corde, dazed and confused, took the documents and the pass issued to him, and returned with Pal to the carriage. Even after the carriage left the guard post, he still had not figured out what had just happened.

Pal was equally baffled: "Father... did those soldiers just forget to take our money?"

"How could anyone forget a thing like that," Corde said, glancing at his son, then muttered in disbelief, "It's the same over in Carol, and the same here... How on earth does the Duke manage it?"

With their heads full of confusion, the merchant and his son rode on.

A short while later, they arrived before the lord's manor.

Stepping down from the carriage and looking up at the towering residence before him, Corde drew a deep breath. He carefully tucked away all the surprise, curiosity, confusion, and excitement from along the way beneath that calm, composed countenance, then straightened his already impeccable attire and, accompanied by a manor guard and with Pal in tow, walked forward.

More than one carriage was parked before the lord's manor—clearly there were other visitors. At the great gate emblazoned with the Cecil family crest, Corde saw a young woman stepping out. She wore a tasteful lady's winter dress and was descending the steps, seemingly about to leave.

The guards at the gate were plainly well acquainted with the young woman, and they exchanged a few words of brief chatter.

"Miss Jubilee—finished your report already?"

There was a smile in the young woman's voice: "Just a routine report."

The guard spoke with a hint of anticipation: "Will there be a show again tomorrow?"

"Of course, every day—and these next few days there may even be something new to watch."

Corde reached the gate. The accompanying guard stepped forward to hand him over, and the young woman called "Miss Jubilee" turned her head, casting a curious glance at this great merchant from the city of Carol.

"Hello." The young woman gave a slight nod and spoke politely.

"Ah—I saw you in that... that magical projection!" Corde stared in surprise at the young woman before him, only now realizing that she was in fact the very person he had seen earlier in the city's holographic projection—this strange sensation of having just watched someone in a hologram and then suddenly seeing them in the flesh left the great merchant quite astonished. Then, with flawless gentlemanly grace, he bowed. "Miss 'Witch,' you are even more beautiful than you appeared in the projection."

"Thank you for the compliment." Jubilee smiled and nodded—yet in the very next second, a strange sense of familiarity surfaced in her heart, and the face of this middle-aged merchant before her overlapped with a certain face in her memory.

Corde, too, gave Jubilee another look—now that the barrier of the "magical projection" had been set aside, as he regarded this Miss "Witch," something suddenly stirred in his heart as well, and a faint, vague sense of familiarity rose within him.

The two of them spoke in unison: "Have we met before?"

In that same instant, both found the source of that familiarity.

Some autumn more than ten years ago, a young merchant who had just taken over the family business ventured into the Southern Marches and arrived in a strange city, full of ambition.

That autumn, a fugitive mage's apprentice was stranded in a foreign land, ravenous with hunger.

The young merchant was seeking business opportunities, and in a buoyant mood he found a fortune-telling stall, hoping to hear a few kind words.

The mage's apprentice, still just a young girl, was searching for food, and she brought out the few tricks she had just learned, hoping to trade them for two pieces of bread.

A wordless, fleeting awkwardness congealed before the steps of the lord's manor. The great merchant of Carol and the Witch famous across the magic net stood face to face; a few seconds later, the awkwardness was broken by the two of them laughing in unison.

"You said the streets of that city were paved with gold," Corde said, stepping forward and extending his hand. "Corde, of Carol."