Chapter 295 Expanding into the Black Market & Smuggling D

The Veiled Ember had become a success almost overnight. The moment the doors opened, dwarven merchants, ambitious craftsmen, and even low-ranking nobles flooded in, drawn by the promise of an exclusive escape from their daily struggles. The women of the Mist Gang played their roles perfectly—smiling, listening, and extracting secrets that would never be spoken in the harsh light of day.

At the same time, the Security Service was already proving its worth. Any merchant who signed up under the Mist Gang's protection saw an immediate end to thefts, threats, and gang-related "accidents." Those who hesitated found themselves dealing with a sudden increase in problems—only to discover that the Mist Gang was always willing to step in and help… for a price.

But these were just the foundations.

To truly own Blesas' underworld, they needed more than just control over the city's protection and information. They needed to control what moved in and out of the city.

That meant taking over the Black Market and Smuggling.

Eir and Mist didn't need to search far to find the black market traders operating in Blesas. Every city had them, and Blesas was no exception. In dark alleyways, hidden chambers beneath reputable shops, and secret meeting spots in the slums, merchants dealt in goods that couldn't be sold in the daylight—illegal weapons, rare artifacts, banned magical items, Alv weapons, and stolen goods.

For years, the black market had operated outside of any one gang's control, with multiple factions running their own small circles of influence. That changed the moment the Mist Gang declared ownership over Blesas' underworld.

Mist made the first move.

The most influential black market dealer in Blesas was a dwarf named Grelth, an older merchant with connections beyond the city walls. He specialized in moving rare Alv materials and magical contraband, always staying neutral by selling to everyone.

One evening, Mist and Eir paid him a visit.

Grelth's base of operations was a hidden shop beneath a run-down warehouse. The main entrance was disguised as an abandoned forge, with only trusted customers knowing of the hidden passage leading underground.

Mist and Eir arrived unannounced.

The guards at the door tried to stop them—until Mist flashed a knife and Eir simply stared them down. Having heard about how the two took down the Flint gang they knew better than to test their luck.

Inside, Grelth sat behind a massive iron desk, flanked by two heavily armed dwarves. His dark brown beard was streaked with silver, and his shrewd, calculating eyes narrowed as he studied his uninvited guests.

"Lady Mist and Lady Eir," he greeted, voice calm but wary. "I've been expecting you."

Mist smiled, golden eyes gleaming. "Then you already know why we're here."

Grelth leaned back, lacing his fingers together. "You want control of my trade routes. My contacts. My business."

Eir's voice was quiet, but firm. "We want partnership—for now."

Grelth chuckled, shaking his head. "And if I refuse?"

Mist shrugged. "Then we remove you and take it anyway."

A tense silence followed. The two dwarven bodyguards tightened their grips on their weapons, but Grelth held up a hand, stopping them.

"You're bold, I'll give you that," he said, his voice betraying a hint of respect. "But tell me, why should I work under you instead of staying independent?"

Eir's answer was simple. "Because soon, there won't be any independent traders in Blesas. The Mist Gang controls everything now."

Mist leaned forward, her voice softer but laced with something far more dangerous. "You think you can keep your neutrality? Maybe before. But now, if you don't pick a side, you'll be swallowed whole. We're giving you a choice, no a chance really, Grelth."

Another long silence.

Then, Grelth exhaled, rubbing his temples before finally nodding. "Fine. You'll have your partnership."

With the black market now under their influence, the next step was securing smuggling routes in and out of Blesas.

No city existed in isolation. Goods, weapons, and rare items constantly moved across borders—some legally, others… less so. If the Mist Gang controlled who and what entered and exited Blesas, they would gain an edge no other faction could match. They also single-handedly ended all slave trading inside the city barring Grelth from dealing in that business anymore.

But unlike the black market, the smuggling trade was controlled by external forces.

The most powerful smugglers were nomadic dwarven clans—groups that moved between cities, transporting illegal goods through underground tunnels, hidden mountain passes, and forgotten trade routes.

One such clan was the Ironveil Caravan, a rogue faction of traders and mercenaries known for moving anything, for the right price.

Eir and Mist needed them.

But first, they had to convince them.

The Ironveil Caravan rarely stayed in one place for long, but through their new contacts in the black market, Eir and Mist tracked them to a hidden outpost in the southern mountains outside Blesas.

When they arrived, they were met by armed mercenaries—dwarves clad in reinforced leather armor, their weapons within easy reach. These weren't desperate criminals; they were professionals, and that made them dangerous.

Mist raised her hands in mock surrender. "Relax, boys. We're just here to talk."

A large, battle-worn dwarf with a scar over his left eye stepped forward. This was Vargan Ironveil, leader of the Ironveil Caravan. His gaze was sharp, his expression unreadable.

"You're the ones causing all that noise in Blesas," Vargan said. "Killing Garik, taking over the streets. You made quite the mess."

Eir met his gaze without flinching. "We cleaned up a mess."

Vargan studied them for a long moment before nodding. "What do you want?"

Mist's smirk was razor-sharp. "A deal."

They laid out their offer:

The Ironveil Caravan would smuggle rare goods, weapons, and magical items directly into Blesas, bypassing the city's official trade routes.

In return, the Mist Gang would provide security, ensuring no one interfered with their operations inside Blesas.

Additionally, any enemy of the Mist Gang would automatically be blacklisted from Ironveil's services, cutting off their access to outside resources.

They would also accept any demand to procure Alv slaves if the request said they would be delivered to the Torin territory.

Vargan considered the offer. "And if we refuse?"

Mist's golden eyes gleamed. "Then you lose a very profitable opportunity."

Eir added, "And make an enemy that controls the most dangerous city in the region."

Vargan's laughter was deep and genuine. "You two are ruthless. I like that."

A moment later, he extended his hand. "You have a deal."

By the time Eir and Mist returned to Blesas, everything was in motion.

The Black Market was now under Mist Gang control, with Grelth acting as their inside man.

The Ironveil Caravan had begun smuggling goods directly into the city, making the Mist Gang richer and more powerful by the day. Anyone not aligned with them was being slowly cut off—supplies disappearing, trade deals collapsing, influence fading.

Eir and Mist stood once again on the balcony of their mansion, watching the city below.

Mist exhaled, a satisfied smirk on her lips. "Well, that was easy."

Eir gave her a look. "It won't always be."

Mist's smirk widened. "No, but I'll enjoy it while it lasts."

And with that, the Mist Gang tightened its grip, controlling not just the streets, but the very lifeblood of Blesas itself.