Chapter 29

The courtyard buzzed with the sounds of activity—carriages creaking under the weight of their loads, animals snorting as they were fed and prepared for the day's journey, and the ever-present hum of inn staff rushing about. I stood there, feeling just a touch out of place. My best finery, complete with the finest rune-enhanced clothing I owned, seemed almost ridiculous in this setting. Every inch of me glittered with protective enchantments, from the cloak clasp that was laced with defensive spells, down to the boots that had enough magic in them to help me outrun half the city if I needed to. But here I was, standing in a muddy yard while oxen snorted in the pre-dawn chill, looking more like I was ready to take an audience with an emperor.

It had taken me some time to choose my outfit. Not because I was particularly vain, but because, in this city, looking the part was as much about survival as function. And Lady Valeria, of course, had given me clear instructions on this. Look the part, play the game. I'd already learned that in this world, people judged you first by what they saw, and only afterward by what you said—if they even bothered to listen. Well, today I would let my appearance speak for me.

The staff of the inn were busy preparing the animals, but each one dipped their head in an overly respectful bow as they scurried past. My reputation seemed to be growing—either that or they were terrified of the items I carried. A little fear wasn't the worst thing in the world, I mused. But it did make me wonder if I was dressing too much like a lord in a courtyard that, frankly, smelled faintly of manure.

The sun was still a half-promise on the horizon, just a faint light breaking the darkness of the sky. The inn bustled with the energy of those too used to early mornings, and I could hear the distinct clanking of metal as more carriages were being loaded. A distant echo of the world waking up—whether it was ready or not. The yard felt alive in its own way, and for a moment, I found myself amused by the odd clash of grandeur and grime.

Precisely at dawn, Valeria's carriage rolled up to the exit of the yard. Her timing was, as always, impeccable. The carriage itself, sleek and gleaming as though it had been polished with diamonds, contrasted sharply with the more utilitarian carts lined up beside it. It was the kind of thing that demanded attention simply by existing, much like its owner.

And then, as if she had been waiting for the perfect moment to make her entrance, Lady Valeria appeared. Flanked by her usual cadre of bodyguards, she glided across the yard with the kind of effortless grace that only came with years of practice. Every strand of her hair was in place, not a single fold of her gown out of alignment. Her gown itself was a masterpiece of fabric and color, layered in a way that spoke of wealth and power, and yet there was something coldly precise about it all. She knew how to turn heads, and she did it well.

"David," she greeted me with that saccharine-sweet smile of hers, eyes gleaming as she took me in from head to toe. "You look rather dashing this morning, don't you?"

I offered her a smirk, brushing a non-existent speck of dust from my cloak. "All this for a meeting with bureaucrats, Valeria? Surely this is overkill."

Her eyes sparkled with amusement as she gave a delicate shrug. "Bureaucrats? Darling, in this city, we dress to impress just to get them to open the door. Today is not about what we're saying, but about how we look. So, please, do us both a favor and leave the talking to me."

I raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. Valeria was always the picture of control, and I knew better than to challenge her when it came to navigating the politics of the city. After all, she'd lived in this world far longer than I had. She knew its hidden traps and subtle expectations better than I ever would.

As she moved toward the carriage, her gown swept behind her, every movement choreographed, every gesture deliberate. Even her bodyguards moved in sync with her, not so much as a whisper of hesitation. It was a performance, really, the way she commanded attention without so much as a word. The way she owned every space she entered. A skill I had to admit I admired—if grudgingly.

I followed her into the carriage, and the door clicked shut with a soft finality. Valeria's face softened the moment we were alone inside, as if the performance could drop for a few minutes while we traveled.

"Do us both a favor," she repeated, her voice dropping to a more conversational tone, "and please don't try to engage in any verbal sparring today. The city's bureaucrats live for it, but they are insufferable. I'll speak for both of us—let me handle them."

I chuckled under my breath. "I never realized you had such a low opinion of government officials."

"Opinion? Oh, darling, they are beyond dull, and I've had to deal with them all my life. So yes, let's not make this meeting any longer than it has to be. I want us both to get out of there with our sanity intact."

As we settled into our seats, the carriage jolted to life, rolling smoothly onto the cobbled streets. The rhythmic clatter of hooves filled the silence between us, and for a moment, I allowed myself to relax, watching the scenery shift outside. The city's layers unfolded as we moved deeper within, the quiet of the early morning starting to give way to the bustling life that I was beginning to associate with urban life in this world.

"I trust you've been doing your research?" she asked, cutting through the silence with her sharp gaze fixed on me.

I tilted my head slightly. "Which part? There's always something."

She smirked. "Your runes. The ones you're always scribbling about in that notebook of yours. I assume you're not just drawing pretty symbols?"

I held up my hands. "Runes aren't just pretty pictures, Valeria. They're the key to everything. What I'm working on... well, it's complicated, but let's just say I'm close to unlocking something significant."

"Unlocking something significant." She let out a soft laugh. "David, everything you do is significant in your own mind. But tell me, is it truly important enough to risk your life? Because in this city, people are quite fond of power grabs."

I met her gaze evenly. "If it wasn't worth the risk, I wouldn't bother. But trust me, this will be... monumental."

"Monumental," she echoed thoughtfully, her eyes narrowing. "I do hope you're not letting ambition blind you. This city has a way of chewing up the ambitious and spitting them out."

"Is that a warning, or a compliment?"

"Both, darling. Both."

As the carriage passed through the twisting streets, the city began to wake fully. Shops were opening their doors, street vendors were already shouting their wares, and more carriages were filling the roads. It was a maze of life, pulsing and alive in a way that reminded me just how different this place was from the sleepy little town we'd come from.

And, in the distance, rising like a beacon, I caught sight of our destination—the grand halls of the city's bureaucratic heart. The place where deals were made, where papers were signed, and where men like me were supposed to either blend in or make waves.

I had no intention of blending in.

Valeria caught me staring at the distant building, her lips curving into that knowing smile of hers. "Remember, David. Smile, nod, and look as pretty as possible. I'll handle the rest."

I smirked, leaning back against the plush seat. "I wouldn't dream of making your job harder, Valeria."

The carriage began its final approach, the sound of hooves echoing louder against the stone walls that lined the entrance to the bureaucratic quarter. Valeria shifted in her seat, checking her appearance one last time, though I doubted a single hair had moved out of place. As for me, I allowed my mind to wander to the possibilities of the day. Bureaucrats or not, this was another step toward my own goals. Another rung on the ladder.

The journey to the heart of the city's bureaucratic machine had taken us about an hour, the carriage weaving its way through streets that grew more and more congested the closer we got to the towering, labyrinthine structure ahead. The sight of it alone was enough to make me wonder whether we were entering a government building or the lair of a particularly well-funded cult. Massive, imposing, and with far more columns and arches than necessary, the place practically screamed "We're important, and don't you dare forget it." I was already mentally preparing myself for what I expected to be an excruciating day of paperwork and pointless conversation.

The courtyard we entered was bustling with carriages, each vying for space as though their very existence depended on getting to the entrance first. The place had an air of controlled chaos—every person moving with purpose, though the purpose itself was a mystery. Guards flanked the outer gate, their presence heavier than I expected. Not just armed, but warded. I could see the faint shimmer of runes etched into their armor, defensive enchantments that pulsed with quiet energy. They were expecting trouble. Or at least, they were prepared for it.

"Interesting choice for a government building," I muttered as I glanced at the guards. "They look ready for war, not bureaucracy."

Valeria, sitting primly beside me, offered a tight smile. "Darling, the war here is in the paperwork. Trust me, every one of those soldiers is necessary. You're about to see why."

The carriage jolted to a stop as we reached the gate, and I watched as Valeria produced a small set of credentials from her bag. One of the soldiers stepped forward, examining her papers with the kind of scrutiny usually reserved for counterfeit gold. After a long moment, he nodded and waved us through, though his gaze lingered on me longer than necessary. I was tempted to flash him my best smile, but thought better of it. No point in antagonizing the man whose runes were crackling with latent power.

As the gates swung open, we were escorted through to the waiting line of carriages, each one inching forward like a queue of nobles at a particularly expensive tailor. The grand entrance loomed ahead, an imposing archway flanked by enormous marble statues that appeared to be gods of red tape and endless delays. Richly dressed men and women, each flanked by their own retinue of guards, were being deposited in front of the entrance, their escorts stiff and formal as they handed over instructions to guides. It was all very controlled, but the tension in the air was palpable. Everyone here was watching everyone else, as though expecting some hidden insult or threat to arise at any moment. Trust was a commodity in short supply.

I leaned back in the carriage, letting my eyes drift over the scene. The fashion here was noticeably different—more elaborate, with layers of fabric and embroidery that screamed wealth. "It's like we're behind... in everything," I muttered, half to myself.

Valeria sighed softly, glancing at her own attire. "We are. Every time I come here, I feel like I have to hide in shame. They're always two steps ahead, and I always feel two steps behind."

When it was finally our turn, we were met by a guide who, judging by his weary expression, had probably been doing this job since the dawn of civilization. He took one look at the credentials Lord Quintus Alaric had provided and raised an eyebrow. With the slightest dip of his head, he gestured for us to follow.

"Welcome to the Department of Internal Development," he said with as much enthusiasm as a man sentenced to walk through a maze for the rest of his life.

As we followed him through the grand halls of the building, I couldn't help but be struck by the sheer scale of it. The corridors stretched out like a labyrinth, each one more opulent than the last. Golden sconces lined the walls, casting a warm glow over the sea of rich fabrics that fluttered as people moved from one place to another. Every person seemed to be escorted by guards, their movements carefully choreographed, their eyes constantly flicking to one another. There was an air of barely-contained hostility in the air—like a truce that could shatter at any moment.

The fashion sense here, too, was intimidating. Men and women alike wore gowns and tunics embroidered with gold and silver, their clothing so finely tailored that it bordered on absurdity. Every hem, every sleeve, was an expression of power, wealth, and influence. It was clear that appearances were everything in this place. And behind all of that glittering fabric was an unspoken rule: this was neutral territory, a battlefield where no swords were drawn, but where words, gestures, and whispers carried more weight than steel ever could.

I glanced over at Valeria, who seemed perfectly at home in this world of polished marble and gleaming chandeliers. Her expression was calm, controlled, but I could see the gears turning behind her eyes. She was assessing, calculating every movement and every glance from the people around us. It was like watching a master strategist at work, except her war was fought with glances and pleasantries instead of swords.

As we passed through another set of grand doors, I found myself leaning toward her. "So, this is where the real power lies, huh? Not in the armies or the runes, but in these halls?"

"Absolutely," she whispered back without missing a beat. "You could topple an empire from within these walls, without ever drawing a blade. That's what makes this place so dangerous."

We were led through a series of vast chambers, each one seemingly more important than the last. The guide paused in front of a set of intricately carved wooden doors and nodded to us. "Please wait here. Someone will be with you shortly."

Valeria gave him a polite nod, and the guide disappeared back into the endless maze of corridors. I leaned against the wall, folding my arms. The weight of the place was starting to press down on me. I'd seen dangerous men before. I'd faced monsters, both human and otherwise. But here... here was a different kind of threat. These people didn't need swords to kill. They could do it with a well-placed word or a signed document.

"I'd almost prefer the monsters," I muttered under my breath.

Valeria chuckled softly. "You might find these bureaucrats more terrifying than any beast you've faced, David. At least monsters are straightforward."

"I'll keep that in mind," I said dryly, scanning the polished marble floors and ornate tapestries hanging from the walls. Everything here felt designed to intimidate, to make you feel small in the face of so much opulence.

The doors opened, and we were ushered into a room that could have easily housed a small army. Instead, it was filled with more bureaucrats. Richly dressed and outwardly pleasant, but with the same air of quiet menace that permeated the entire building. The room was stifling in its grandeur. Ornate furniture, plush carpets, and chandeliers dripping with crystals—it was all designed to make you feel as though you didn't belong.

Valeria stepped forward, all grace and poise, her smile as sharp as a blade. I hung back, just as instructed, watching as she engaged in the delicate dance of pleasantries with the officials. She was impressive to watch, her every word measured, every gesture calculated.

I felt the weight of the Lord's credentials in my pocket, the documents that would declare me to the powers that be. This was it—the moment I'd waited for. The chance to prove my worth, to solidify my standing. And yet, as I watched the intricate game of politics play out before me, I couldn't shake the feeling that we were merely pawns in a much larger game.

But then, pawns could still checkmate a king if played correctly.

Valeria glanced back at me, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Remember, David. Smile, nod, and look pretty. The less you say, the more they'll like you."

I smirked. "I'm starting to think you enjoy bossing me around."

"Someone has to keep you in line," she shot back with a wink.

For about an hour, Valeria and I were passed from one bureaucrat to the next, like a couple of goats at a market. Each time we entered a new office, the rooms got a little bigger, the decor a touch more ostentatious, but the expressions on the faces behind those desks? Unchanging. They looked at us with that glazed-over stare that only a lifetime of paperwork and procedure could produce. I could practically see the gears turning in their heads, measuring us, judging us—and inevitably, deciding we were nothing more than another set of forms to shuffle through.

It was subtle, but I noticed every time we were handed over to another official, Valeria's delicate fingers would brush against a pouch at her waist. A discreet exchange of gold would follow. The system here wasn't just greased by gold—it ran on it. Valeria moved with the ease of someone who knew the game well, a faint smile always playing on her lips. She'd expected this. Meanwhile, I was trying not to think about the fact that we were being treated like cattle while our documents—my documents—were slowly making their way through this labyrinth of inefficiency.

The halls were cavernous, echoing with footsteps, the faint scratch of quills, and the muffled voices of bureaucrats engaged in conversation that would bore even the most dedicated scholar to tears. Everywhere I looked, people were hunched over desks, faces lined with the kind of despair that comes from spending decades doing the same thing over and over again, all while pretending that any of it mattered. The walls were lined with portraits of previous officials, their eyes as cold and lifeless as the people walking beneath them.

"Efficient, isn't it?" Valeria whispered dryly as we were led through yet another corridor.

"About as efficient as a turtle climbing a mountain," I muttered back, earning a small smirk from her.

Finally, we were brought before the head of the Department of Internal Development. I had expected some decrepit old man covered in dust and the faint scent of ink and sweat. Instead, we were met by a man who looked no older than thirty. His skin was smooth, too smooth, and his hair unnaturally dark. But his eyes—his eyes gave it away. They were ancient, the kind of eyes you only get after years of consuming monster meat to stave off age.

"Ah, Lady Valeria, Master Goodchild," he said, rising from his overly plush chair with a pompous flourish. "Welcome, welcome. I've been expecting you." His voice dripped with formality, like syrup over rotten fruit.

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. After being pushed around for an hour, it seemed we had finally reached the top of the mountain—only to find a man more concerned with his own grandeur than getting anything done.

The room we were led into was as extravagant as expected. Velvet drapes, golden accents on every piece of furniture, and a large desk that looked more like a throne. It was a room designed to make you feel small and insignificant, and I hated it immediately.

We were ushered to sit in front of him, and for a long moment, he simply looked over the documents we had spent so much time ferrying through his underlings. He held them with an air of exaggerated importance, peering over the papers as if he were unraveling the mysteries of the universe itself. Runes flickered faintly on his desk, a sign that some sort of magical verification was taking place. But it was clear he was enjoying this moment far too much.

Valeria sat poised, ever the picture of grace, while I tried to keep my irritation in check. My fingers twitched, itching to reach across the desk and pull the papers out of his hands, just to make him move a little faster.

Finally, he gave a self-satisfied smile, pulled out an official-looking stamp, and pressed it down with a resounding thud. The assistant standing by his side swooped in immediately, as if trained to do so, gathering the papers like they were sacred relics to be enshrined in some holy vault.

"Well," the head bureaucrat said with an air of finality, "that settles everything. You are now officially recognized by my department. Quite the honor, I must say."

I was about to express my thoughts on what I thought of his 'honor' when he added, "Now, as for the timeline, we are looking at... oh, a few months. Possibly by the end of the year if all goes well."

My mouth nearly dropped open. "A few months?"

Before I could say more, Valeria shot me a look—one of those sharp, silent commands that said shut up without ever needing words. She turned back to the bureaucrat, her tone calm and collected. "May I ask why it will take so long? We were led to believe this would be handled more... expediently."

The man gave her a look that could only be described as patronizing. "Oh, Lady Valeria, you must understand. The process is quite intricate. First, the documentation must go through a departmental review, then it will need guild approval. After that, it will be forwarded to the palace for advisement, where their staff will review it thoroughly."

I opened my mouth to argue, but he kept going, oblivious to the growing irritation that was surely radiating off me like a heatwave.

"If we're lucky, there won't be too many clarifications required, but of course, there will be several rounds of revisions—minor corrections, nothing major, I assure you. Then it will be placed on the waiting list for action. This is all very standard, of course."

He was actually proud of this. Proud of the endless, mind-numbing loops of paperwork and procedure that he had turned into a monument to inefficiency. I glanced at Valeria, half-expecting her to explode, but she was the very picture of calm, her smile never wavering.

"And how long does this 'waiting list' typically last?" Valeria asked sweetly, though I could hear the edge in her voice.

"Oh, anywhere from a few months to a year, depending on the palace's current workload," he replied with a smile that made me want to punch him. "But do not worry. You are in good hands."

Valeria turned to me and gave a subtle nod, clearly signaling that it was time to leave before I did something we'd both regret. I clenched my jaw, forcing myself to stay silent. As we stood to leave, the bureaucrat rose as well, a smug look plastered across his face.

"Well, that shows you the efficiency of my department," he said with a flourish, clearly pleased with himself. "Everything in its place, in its proper time."

As we turned to leave, the bureaucrat, as if remembering something crucial at the last moment, said in a tone that suggested he didn't care whether it mattered or not, "Oh, and remember—without guild approval, you're not allowed to sell any rune devices within the city."

I stopped dead in my tracks, my hand freezing on the door. The blood rushed to my ears as I turned slowly back to face him. My livelihood, my entire identity in this godforsaken society, revolved around my ability to sell rune-imbued devices. This man, with his dismissive tone and smug smile, had just casually announced that I was essentially shackled, unable to make a move until every piece of paper in this labyrinth of bureaucracy was signed, sealed, and stamped—however many years that might take.

"In a very even tone," I said, masking my growing frustration under the forced calm of someone trying very hard not to throttle the idiot in front of them, "how does one get guild approval?"

He looked up, blinking as though he was trying to figure out why I was still here asking such basic questions. "Oh, well, that happens once everything is sorted with the palace. You see, the ruler—or their proxy—must make their decision first. Then, after that, you can be processed for guild approval."

I gritted my teeth, trying to keep my tone neutral. "Can I get guild approval before?"

The look of confusion that crossed his face would have been laughable if it weren't so infuriating. He stared at me, truly perplexed by my apparent ignorance of 'how things worked' in this city. "Nothing happens before the paperwork is done. Just be patient—the process always works in the end. It's the most efficient system, you know."

Efficient? Was this man serious? Efficient like a three-legged horse in a race, maybe.

I felt my fists clench at my sides, my pulse quickening. This entire system—this bureaucratic maze designed to bog down, frustrate, and ultimately oppress—wasn't just a delay. It was a chokehold. It was meant to keep people like me in line, to stifle progress, to ensure that power stayed with the very few at the top, who never had to worry about things like 'guild approval.' No, they thrived because they controlled it, and men like me were nothing more than pawns in their endless game.

Lady Valeria must have seen the storm brewing beneath my surface because she smoothly took my arm, her grip firm but gentle, a clear signal to let it go. She smiled sweetly at the bureaucrat, her voice like honey. "Thank you so much for your attention to detail. It's comforting to know that everything is in such capable hands."

With that, she slid a purse into his hand, the jingle of gold unmistakable. His eyes lit up, and he gave a little nod, weighing the bag in his palm like a man who had just received his daily bribe—and was quite satisfied with the amount. Within seconds, his interest in us vanished as if we were just another two faces in the long line of nobodies he would see today.

We were led out of the room, and the moment the door closed behind us, I could feel the tension bubbling up inside me. Valeria must have sensed it too because she kept her grip on my arm, steering me forward before I could do something stupid.

As we descended the grand marble staircase of the Department of Internal Development, my mind raced. The bureaucratic nightmare I had just been tossed into was more than inefficient—it was intentional. I'd studied systems like this in my previous world. The endless paperwork, the delays, the hoops you had to jump through, all designed not to serve the people but to keep them down. It wasn't an accident. This was control, pure and simple. They created a system so convoluted that no ordinary man could hope to navigate it without money or influence. And those who had neither? They were left behind, powerless and voiceless.

It reminded me of the governments back home, the way they buried people under piles of red tape and regulations until they were so frustrated, so disheartened, that they gave up entirely. Only those who played the game, who knew how to manipulate the system—or had the money to grease the wheels—came out on top. Everyone else was just cannon fodder, trapped in the machinery of bureaucracy, ground down until they were compliant.

"Don't worry about it," Valeria whispered beside me, her voice low as we passed more bureaucrats and their stone-faced assistants. "This is just how things are done here."

"Done?" I muttered, keeping my voice just as low. "It's not how things are done; it's how they keep us from doing anything at all."

She smirked but didn't say anything, guiding us out into the courtyard. The sky was a bright blue, the sunlight almost mocking in its warmth as if to say, "Oh, what a beautiful day to have your spirit crushed by the administrative state."

I took a deep breath, trying to calm my thoughts, but it was difficult. Everything in this city, from the ornate buildings to the people gliding around in their gilded carriages, screamed wealth and privilege. These were the people who never had to worry about guild approvals or bureaucratic hurdles. They were the ones benefiting from this system while the rest of us floundered in it, trying to find a way to survive.

Valeria's voice broke into my thoughts. "You look like you're about to kill someone."

I exhaled sharply, realizing my hands had balled into fists again. "Maybe I am," I said, only half-joking.

She laughed lightly, though I could see the seriousness in her eyes. "You'll get used to it. Or you'll find a way around it."

"Or through it," I added.

As we climbed into the carriage, silence wrapped around us like a thick blanket. The streets outside buzzed with activity, but inside, the tension from the bureaucratic circus we'd just endured weighed heavily on my shoulders. Lady Valeria settled herself opposite me, her lips pressed into a thin line. She was quiet at first, and I wondered if she, too, was mulling over the sheer absurdity of what had just transpired.

I didn't have long to wait. As soon as the carriage rattled down the street, she broke the silence with a tone of frustration I'd rarely heard from her. "I didn't want to say anything in that building, but I must admit I'm disappointed," she said, her eyes narrowed as they stared at the passing buildings. "It's going to take forever, isn't it? Our little city must have done something to fall out of favor with the palace or the bureaucratic offices."

I nodded, watching her carefully. Valeria was always a picture of composure, a master of the social games she had to play in this world. If she was frustrated, it was a sign that things were truly worse than I'd thought. "It's more than just falling out of favor," I said. "This entire system is designed to slow everything down. It's not an accident; it's a feature."

She looked at me sharply, her gaze intense. "It's going to take a lot of money to grease the wheels to get things moving." There was a challenge in her eyes, something that hinted at the storm of decisions brewing within her mind. "Think of this as your first real trial, David. To get through the system... with your sanity intact."

A laugh escaped me before I could stop it, dry and humorless. "Sanity?" I raised an eyebrow. "It feels like that's the first thing they want to strip from you in this city."

Valeria gave me a small smile, but her expression remained calculating. "You're not wrong. But you're also in a bind, my dear. Without being able to sell your rune devices, you won't have the funds to grease any wheels."

She let that sink in, her eyes gleaming as though she were testing my mettle, waiting to see how I'd respond to the impossible situation we were in. I had to admire her for that—she wasn't one to sugarcoat the truth, and in a way, her bluntness was refreshing.

"I can't exactly line the coffers if I can't even sell my wares," I muttered, running a hand through my hair. "And you're not exactly opening your purse for this particular cause."

Valeria shook her head slowly, as if I were a child that had just stated the obvious. "Of course I'm not. I've already invested quite a bit into our little venture here. I'll fork over more when I see proof that my investment is worthwhile."

There it was, laid out on the table like a bad hand of cards. I was stuck. The bureaucracy wouldn't allow me to work until I had their precious guild approval, and without funds, there was no way I could navigate their endless labyrinth of red tape. I was in the classic Catch-22—designed, no doubt, to keep the powerless exactly where they wanted us.

I leaned back in the carriage seat, my mind racing. Was this a test? Had she thrown me into the lion's den just to see if I could claw my way out? The thought crossed my mind that Valeria, for all her charm and helpfulness, was also watching closely. She was measuring me. I had to admit there was a certain thrill in that. A trial, as she put it. One I had no intention of failing.

But damn if it wasn't tempting to just disappear. Find a border town far away from this pit of red tape and corruption. I could set up shop somewhere else, work in peace, and leave these bureaucrats to their games. It would be so easy. I'd done it before in a world that had its own brand of bureaucratic hell.

No. I wasn't going to let the first hurdle defeat me. That wasn't who I was. Giving up and running had never been an option for me, and it wasn't going to start now. I'd find a way around this. There's always a way. And if there wasn't, well... I'd make one.

"David?" Valeria's voice cut through my thoughts, and I looked up to find her watching me with an amused expression. "You've gone quiet."

"Just thinking," I said. "About how to get around this little... obstacle."

She raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "And what brilliant plan is forming in that clever head of yours?"

I smirked. "You'll see."

As the carriage continued down the busy streets, I watched the people bustling about, merchants hawking their wares, carts laden with goods making their way through the crowds. There had to be someone here who could help me. Someone with enough influence—or at least enough desperation—that they'd be willing to break a few rules for the right price.

Valeria studied me for a moment longer before nodding, as if approving of whatever silent battle I was waging inside my mind. "Good. I was worried you might be considering running back to that border town idea."

I glanced at her, startled. "You read my mind."

"I didn't have to," she said, leaning back in her seat. "I know the look of a man on the verge of retreating. It's not a bad option, all things considered. But I suspected you wouldn't take the easy way out."

"Easy way out?" I shook my head. "Nothing about dealing with this bureaucracy is easy. But it's better than running away."

"Is it?" She tilted her head, eyes gleaming with curiosity. "You could be free of all this nonsense. The paperwork, the guilds, the endless games."

I sighed, the weight of the situation pressing on me. "No. It's not in my nature to run. I'll figure it out. I always do."

She smiled, the kind of smile that suggested she knew more than she was letting on. "Good. I was hoping you'd say that."

The carriage turned into a quieter street, and I realized we were nearing the inn. Valeria's gaze shifted out the window, and she seemed lost in thought for a moment before speaking again, her voice softer this time. "This city isn't like our little town, David. It's... different. Bigger, yes, but it's not just about size. The people here, the politics, the culture—it's a world unto itself. We're just tiny players in a very big game."

"I've noticed," I said dryly, thinking back to the endless line of bureaucrats we'd dealt with.

Valeria nodded. "If you want to survive here, let alone thrive, you'll need to learn the rules. And then figure out how to break them."

I raised an eyebrow at her. "Break them?"

A mischievous glint appeared in her eyes. "Of course. Everyone breaks the rules here, David. It's just a matter of knowing which ones you can break without getting caught—and who to bribe to look the other way."

I stared at her for a moment, letting that sink in. This wasn't just about following the rules and hoping things would fall into place. This was a game of strategy, of manipulation. And Valeria, it seemed, was a master at playing it.

The carriage pulled to a stop outside the inn, and Valeria's bodyguard opened the door for her. She stepped out gracefully, pausing to glance back at me with a smile. "Don't worry," she said.

The moment Lady Valeria stepped out of the carriage, she cast a critical eye over the inn we had pulled up to, as if sizing up its value, or perhaps, lack thereof. She turned to me with that same amused expression she often wore when delivering a jab cloaked in silk.

"I'll be moving to my friend's accommodations as soon as possible," she said, pulling a slip of paper from her sleeve and handing it to me. "Here's the address, should you need it. And with all the money I've handed over today, I think it's only fair you take care of the cost for this lovely establishment. Oh, and good luck with…" She paused for dramatic effect, letting the words hang like an anvil above my head. "Getting around this little hurdle. Only contact me when you've made progress."

With that, she flashed a cheeky smile and sashayed away, her bodyguard trailing behind her like a shadow. Just like that, I ceased to matter. At least for now. It was remarkable how quickly people's interest in you faded the moment you weren't immediately useful. I'd seen it too many times to be surprised, but it still grated on me. Valeria had this knack for making everything seem like a test—a gauntlet to be thrown down. And I hated the fact that I was already planning how to prove myself.

People only wanted you around if you held value, that much was clear. You could charm them all you wanted, be the life of the party, or their greatest asset, but the moment you stopped delivering, you were nothing more than an afterthought. Disposable. And wasn't that a delightful thought? That old rule never changed—people only wanted you if you brought something they needed. Otherwise, you were just another piece of noise in their otherwise curated existence.

I stood in front of the inn for a few more seconds, letting the midday sun beat down on me as I pondered my next move. Well, I was dressed for success—or at least, dressed to look the part. It was midday, which meant the auction houses would be open, and I couldn't afford to waste time wallowing in existential crises. I approached the porter stationed near the entrance and asked where the closest auction house was. To my relief, it was just a short walk away. Time to see if the city's grand machinery had left any space for opportunists like me.

As I walked through the city's winding streets, I quickly realized how easy it was to get lost here. It was a maze of tall buildings, each five stories high, their exteriors a blend of opulence and decay. Every corner seemed to present a different scene. On one street, merchants hawked their goods from makeshift stalls, shouting their deals to anyone within earshot, while just a block away, refined shops with pristine glass windows catered to the elite. It was as if the city had layers, all jammed into one chaotic space.

I noticed a few respectful nods and small bows from the commoners, clearly recognizing that my clothing marked me as someone of a higher status. Still, in this middle-class district, I didn't exactly stand out like a sore thumb. The area was filled with people trying to look important, blending into the mess of merchants, nobles, and tradesmen. A group of city guards patrolled nearby, keeping the streets clear of any unsavory characters. They moved with a sense of authority, the kind of men who didn't flinch at drawing their swords if someone stepped out of line.

It wasn't long before I arrived at the auction house, an imposing stone building with intricate carvings framing the entrance. The steps leading up to the doors were polished to a gleaming shine, and a steady stream of well-dressed individuals filtered in and out. There was a buzz in the air, the kind of energy that only came when people were about to spend obscene amounts of money on things they didn't need.

I stepped through the grand doors, feeling the cool air wash over me as I entered. Inside, the auction house was a world unto itself, with high ceilings and marble floors that echoed every footstep. Men and women in lavish clothing milled about, sipping drinks and whispering to one another in conspiratorial tones. It was clear that business was booming.

I approached the front desk, where a severe-looking woman in a tight bun eyed me over her spectacles. "Good afternoon," I said, flashing my best attempt at a disarming smile. "I'm interested in putting a few items up for auction."

Her gaze flicked over me, assessing my worth in less than a second. "Do you have an account with us?"

"I'm new in town," I replied smoothly. "But I've brought some... rather unique goods that I'm sure will generate quite a bit of interest."

She introduced me to a young woman that would serve me. I followed the young woman down the hallway, noticing how her polite yet distant demeanor barely masked the curiosity glinting in her eyes. She led me to a room at the back of the auction house—a space clearly reserved for the more private, high-end transactions. It was furnished with elegance but lacked the ostentatiousness one would expect. Here, deals were made with discretion and decorum. Perfect for what I had in mind.

As I stepped inside, I saw an older man sitting behind a large, polished desk. He had the air of someone who had spent years evaluating treasures, weighing the worth of everything he touched with quiet, calculated precision. In his hands, he toyed with a small magical device, perhaps a relic of some kind. When he looked up, his eyes briefly scanned my clothing, lingering on the subtle runes that glowed faintly from the trim of my sleeves. The recognition of wealth and status flashed across his face, though he masked it with a practiced smile.

"Welcome," he said, nodding with polite acknowledgment. "Please, have a seat. What can I do for you today?"

The young woman who had guided me here quickly disappeared, only to return moments later with a tray of drinks and delicate snacks. She set them down quietly before retreating to the back of the room. Her eyes never left me, or more precisely, the items I would soon reveal.

I leaned back in my chair, observing the older man as he continued to fiddle with the device on his desk. "I hear your auction house deals in unique items," I said casually, though I knew full well they did. "I think I might have a few pieces that could interest your clientele."

"Is that so?" His voice was even, but his curiosity was piqued. "We are always on the lookout for rare and exceptional goods. Would you care to show me what you've brought?"

"Of course," I said with a hint of amusement, reaching into my coat. From my inventory stone, I summoned three items—a beautifully crafted bracelet adorned with a protective rune, a small but intricately detailed dagger infused with a fire ward, and a pendant that glowed with subtle power, capable of warding off mental intrusions. Each piece was a masterpiece of my craft, meticulously designed and infused with the best magic I could offer.

I laid them carefully on the inspection desk in front of him. His eyes lit up as he examined them one by one, his hands moving over each item with the practiced expertise of someone who had seen it all but still appreciated true quality when it crossed his path.

"This bracelet," he began, his voice betraying genuine interest, "is imbued with a protective rune, correct? It feels like it's designed to deflect both magical and physical attacks. Not something one sees often in these parts. And this dagger…a fire ward, I presume?"

I nodded. "Very perceptive. The dagger not only holds a fire ward but can also be activated with a command word to release a focused burst of flame. It's particularly useful in close combat—just in case brute force doesn't get the job done."

He let out a small, appreciative hum as he turned the pendant over in his hand, the glow casting soft reflections across his face. "And this pendant… It seems to offer mental protection? A safeguard against mind-control magic, I assume?"

"Precisely," I confirmed. "Ideal for anyone who doesn't like the idea of someone else meddling with their thoughts."

The man looked up from the pendant, his gaze sharp with interest. "These will fetch a very high price, I'm certain. There's a demand for quality items like these, especially in a city like this, where power plays are as common as breathing."

As I listened to him speak, I couldn't help but notice the young woman in the corner, her eyes practically devouring the objects laid out on the table. She hadn't said a word since entering the room, but her interest was clear. Perhaps she was an apprentice, or simply someone keen on learning the art of appraisal. Either way, her intensity didn't go unnoticed.

The man sighed, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled over the room. "There is, however, one small issue."

"Of course there is," I said under my breath, already knowing where this was headed.

"You've forgotten to mark these items with the guild seal," he explained, his voice regretful but firm. "Without that, I'm afraid I can't sell them here. The guild has very strict rules about that sort of thing."

I raised an eyebrow. "So, what you're telling me is that all I need to do is slap a guild mark on them, and we're good to go?"

The man chuckled softly, as though I had just told a mildly amusing joke. "If only it were that simple, my friend. You see, selling without the guild's approval is not just a minor inconvenience—it's a violation of their authority. The guild would come down not only on you, but on this auction house as well. So, unfortunately, the answer is no. At least, not until you obtain the proper credentials."

I leaned back in my chair, feigning nonchalance, though internally I was seething. "And what if I don't have a guild mark?"

He tilted his head slightly, his brows knitting together in mock surprise. "A man with your level of skill, not associated with a guild? Surely you jest."

"I wish I were," I replied with a sigh. "I've come here under certain… circumstances. Let's just say my previous affiliations didn't make the trip with me."

The older man studied me for a long moment, his fingers tapping absently on the table. "Well, anything is possible, I suppose," he said finally. "But I wouldn't recommend selling without a guild mark unless you fancy living the rest of your life dodging guild enforcers."

I smiled tightly. "Not my idea of a good time."

The man sat back in his chair, folding his hands in front of him. "Then my advice to you is simple: Find a way to get your items marked. And quickly."

I glanced at the bracelet on the table, the runes gleaming softly under the ambient light. My work was flawless, better than anything most guild members could produce, and yet here I was, being shut out because of some bureaucratic nonsense. It was maddening.

But I couldn't afford to show my frustration. I needed to play this smart.

"Thank you for your… candor," I said, rising from my chair and pocketing the items once more. "I'll look into acquiring the proper credentials. In the meantime, I appreciate your time."

He nodded, standing as well. "I look forward to seeing your items on the block once you've sorted everything out. They'll make quite the impression, I'm sure."

I gave him a polite nod and made my way out of the room, the young woman from earlier opening the door for me as I left. She gave me a small, almost apologetic smile, as if she understood the absurdity of the situation but was powerless to do anything about it.

As I followed the young woman through the winding corridors of the auction house, her pace quickened, and I noticed her glancing over her shoulder as if making sure we were alone. The air grew heavier in the narrow passage, and my curiosity heightened. Finally, she slowed, her expression serious, yet tinged with the excitement of secrecy. I raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to speak.

"My lord," she whispered, leaning in slightly, her voice barely audible over the distant sounds of the auction house, "I may have a way for you to sell the items… without the guild's approval."

Ah, intrigue. I could feel the corner of my mouth tugging upward, though I kept my face mostly neutral. This was exactly what I needed. "Go on," I said, my voice low, though I wasn't sure whether I was encouraging her or simply testing the waters of this new game.

She took a breath, as if weighing the consequences of her next words, then said, "Meet me tonight. At the eatery opposite the auction house. I'll take you to someone who can help. But... you'll need to dress inconspicuously. No fancy clothes."

Inconspicuously? I was standing there draped in runed finery that might as well have been a walking banner proclaiming, Look at me, I'm someone important. Even I had to admit I stood out like a hawk in a henhouse.

"Fine," I said, giving a subtle nod, though I couldn't help adding, "I suppose you have a taste for adventure?"

Her lips quirked into a sly smile. "Let's just say I've learned to appreciate subtlety in a city like this. You'll need it too."

With that, she turned on her heel and continued leading me out, leaving the air between us charged with a strange, unspoken understanding. Clearly, she had her own reasons for helping, but this wasn't the time to pry. The city had a way of offering opportunities, even from unexpected corners, and I wasn't about to let this one pass by.

As we stepped out into the bustling street, I glanced up at the late afternoon sky, the sun beginning its descent. I had a few hours before the meeting. Time to head back to the inn and prepare for whatever this little venture would entail.