Chapter 242: Suspect

Aldric remained silent for a moment.

For a brief instant after Boren mentioned “compensation,” the merchant lord appeared puzzled, much like any wealthy patron would when a finalized contract was suddenly called into question.

But as the silence lingered and Boren’s steady gaze held firm, that initial confusion morphed into something subtler, more fragile, like a crack beneath polished lacquer.

Aldric’s fingers, which had been loosely clasped together, tightened slightly, turning his knuckles pale before he forced them to relax again. His smile persisted but lacked warmth; it had become a carefully crafted facade.

“Assistant Boren,” Aldric said slowly, choosing each word with precision, “I must apologize, I don’t quite understand your meaning. The agreed sum was transferred in full on the day your Guild delivered the Lion’s heart and blood essence. If there has been an accounting error, I assure you it was unintentional.”

Boren did not respond immediately. He leaned back into the plush sofa with deliberate ease, resting one hand against his knee while casually holding his teacup with the other.

He took a small sip, allowing the faint fragrance of flowers to rise between them as if their conversation were still light and courteous.

Valeria sat opposite them, silent and motionless; yet her gaze had sharpened to an intensity that would have made lesser men uncomfortable. Orak shifted slightly in his seat, sensing that whatever warmth had existed moments ago had cooled into something far more dangerous.

“Master Aldric,” Boren finally began, his voice steady and devoid of accusation yet laden with significance, “before we delve into numbers, may I ask you something directly? Are you aware of what transpired at the Adventurer Guild just days ago?”

There it was again, a flicker across Aldric’s expression. It changed for less than a heartbeat, but Boren caught it nonetheless.

“I cannot say that I am,” Aldric replied, spreading his hands in a gesture of openness.

“Once I secured the Lion’s heart and essence, my focus shifted entirely to my son’s condition. His recovery required constant attention. Trade matters and city affairs have taken a backseat these past few days. Unless you’re referring to the attack on the Guild…if so…”

Valeria’s fingers tightened subtly against her knee.

Boren set down his teacup gently; the porcelain made no sound against the table.

“Yes,” he said deliberately. “I’m talking about the attack on the Guild, it was an unusually coordinated assault.”

He met Aldric’s eyes as he continued: “On precisely the day our strongest Adventurers departed Greyvale for their mission, when our upper-ranked combatants marched into Evergreen Mountain Range to hunt down the Sixth Order Lord Beast, the Guild came under attack.”

Aldric remained still while Orak audibly caught his breath.

“The attackers were coordinated,” Boren said, his tone steady and measured, as if he were presenting figures from an accounting ledger.

“They struck our headquarters with precision. They understood our deployment schedule, our defensive rotations, and exactly when our elite forces would be absent. Hundreds of Adventurers lost their lives. The Guild Hall lies in ruins. And our Guildmaster…”

Boren paused, not for dramatic effect, but because the weight of the words still lingered. “Our Guildmaster remains unconscious to this hour.”

Aldric’s expression turned solemn.

Valeria didn’t look at him; instead, her gaze shifted to Orak, whose shoulders trembled slightly under her scrutiny.

“I witnessed the devastation of the Guild when I came to collect the heart and blood essence,” Aldric said quietly.

Though his voice remained composed, there was a flatness to it. “I’m deeply sorry for what happened; please forgive me for not offering my condolences sooner, I was in a hurry.”

“Indeed,” Boren replied softly.

Silence enveloped them like a held breath.

Then Boren leaned forward slightly, his round face losing its earlier genial softness as his eyes locked onto Aldric with unwavering calm. “You see, Master Aldric, the timing troubles me, deeply. I’ve spent the last two days examining records, correspondences, and logistical patterns. The more I delve into them, the less comfortable I feel.”

Aldric remained silent; that alone spoke volumes.

“You commissioned a hunt for the Crimson Abyssal Lion,” Boren continued. “A Sixth Order Lord Beast, a perilous undertaking without doubt. But such hunts are not unprecedented; we have handled similar contracts before. What is unprecedented is the price you offered.”

Valeria shot a sideways glance at Boren with a calm demeanor while the corners of her lips twitched slightly. If Sage were here, he would have applauded and given a thumbs-up.

Aldric’s brow furrowed faintly. “The reward reflected urgency.”

“Ten million gold coins,” Boren stated evenly. “An extraordinary sum, even for a Lord Beast contract. I’ve reviewed market valuations: while the hide of a Sixth Order Lion can yield high-grade defensive materials and its core contains potent mana, it isn’t known for rare alchemical properties or unique venom production. Its bones aren’t particularly attuned to enchantment either; its blood lacks stable regenerative qualities. In truth, aside from its core and hide… it’s quite unremarkable.”

Orak shifted again in discomfort.

Boren continued without pause. “Furthermore, I discreetly consulted three Master Alchemists from Greyvale and Riverdale. None could identify any medicinal use for the Lion’s heart or blood that would justify such a hefty price. Even if there were some obscure property, only a Grandmaster Alchemist could reliably refine a high-order essence into a stable elixir. As you know, Master Aldric, there is only one Grandmaster Alchemist in the Kingdom, the Royal Alchemist, and he answers solely to the Crown.”

The atmosphere in the room thickened.

Aldric interlocked his fingers again, this time with more tension.

“So,” Boren continued, his tone calm but edged with steel, “I asked myself: why would a merchant of your stature, intelligent and measured as you are, offer ten million gold coins for materials that cannot be legally refined by anyone within your reach? Why commit such an enormous sum for something that, based on all practical knowledge, seems unattainable?”

Aldric’s jaw tightened almost imperceptibly.

“And then,” Boren said, letting his words hang in the air before continuing, “I considered the timing. Your request came swiftly and sounded urgent. You pressed for immediate completion of the mission.”

“That is because my son was dying,” Aldric interjected, revealing the first crack in his composure. “I told you about his condition; you know it was dire.”

Boren nodded once. “Yes, I do. And I do not question a father’s desperation. But desperation does not explain why intelligence about the Lion’s precise location reached your agents only days prior. Nor does it clarify how attackers knew exactly when our elite forces would be away from Greyvale.”

His words fell like stones into still water.

Orak’s face paled.

Valeria did not blink.

Aldric’s expression shifted, shock gave way to disbelief and then something darker, a dawning comprehension or perhaps calculation?

“I am not accusing,” Boren said softly; however, that softness did little to diminish the impact of his words. “I am observing patterns, patterns suggesting coordination. Patterns indicating someone ensured our Guild’s strongest defenders were absent at precisely the moment an assault was launched.”

The ticking of a distant clock suddenly seemed deafening.

“You offered ten million gold,” Boren continued, “a sum substantial enough to eliminate hesitation from our leadership and guarantee we committed our best resources. While they hunted a beast in the wilds, our walls fell.”

Aldric inhaled slowly.

“And so,” Boren concluded, lowering his voice further, “I began to wonder if the Lion hunt was not merely a contract but rather a distraction.”

Orak flinched visibly as he turned to look at his father with confusion etched across his face.

Valeria’s eyes sharpened further; her silence felt like a blade pressing against the tense atmosphere.

Aldric’s composure began to fracture in earnest now.

Shock morphed into offense, offense into anger, and anger into something closer to fear. “Assistant Boren,” Aldric said, his voice now devoid of warmth, “you tread on dangerous ground.”

“I am aware,” Boren replied calmly.

“You suggest that I orchestrated an attack on the Greyvale Guild? That I spent ten million gold not to save my son but to cripple your organization?” Aldric’s eyes flashed with indignation. “That is an absurdity bordering on insult.”

“I imply nothing,” Boren countered. “I’m simply asking questions.”

“Then ask them plainly,” Aldric snapped.

Boren held his gaze without blinking. “Very well. Did you know the Guild would be attacked?”

The question hung between them like a drawn blade.

Aldric stared back, breathing measured yet shallow. “No,” he said firmly. “I did not.”

“Did anyone within your trade network have foreknowledge of instability in Greyvale?”

“No.”

“Did you receive any intelligence about potential threats to the Guild before commissioning the hunt?”

After a pause, he shook his head. “No.”

Boren studied him in silence. For several heartbeats, no one spoke. Orak looked between his father and the Guild representatives, caught in a nightmare he couldn’t comprehend.

Valeria’s gaze remained fixed on Aldric.

Finally, Boren exhaled quietly. “You must understand my position, Master Aldric,” he said, shifting from sharp inquiry to measured explanation.

“The Guild has lost hundreds; families are grieving. Our Hall lies in ruins, and our Guildmaster fights for his life. The only major external factor preceding the attack was your contract. If I don’t examine that connection thoroughly, I would be unfit for my role.”

Aldric’s anger waned slightly, replaced by something more calculating. “And what does this have to do with compensation?” he asked slowly.

Boren’s expression didn’t change, but something in his eyes hardened.

“If the attack was coincidental,” he stated evenly, “then you are merely an unfortunate catalyst. If it was not coincidence… then your ten million gold is insufficient to cover the damages incurred by your request.”

The implication was unmistakable.

Aldric’s breath stilled as he processed this information. “You believe,” he said slowly, “that I owe you more.”

“I believe,” Boren replied steadily, “that if there is any connection between your commission and the assault on our Guild, then we have suffered damages far exceeding our agreed contract amount. And if you possess any knowledge that clarifies that connection, holding it back would be… unwise.”

The room felt as though it tilted slightly under the weight of tension; Orak clenched his hands tightly in his lap.

Valeria remained poised yet her presence loomed large over the conversation.

Aldric stared at Boren, his gaze intense and searching. The flicker of fear he had felt earlier now battled against a surge of pride and calculation. As a merchant lord, he was used to being in control within his own realm. Yet here, in the familiar surroundings of his mansion, he found himself under scrutiny, not from soldiers but from a calm negotiator whose steady logic pressed down on him more forcefully than any weapon.

In that moment, Boren sensed it, the shift in dynamics. Aldric’s rapid changes in expression weren’t just for show; his shock was genuine, and his confusion was real. Even the fleeting fear had an authenticity to it.

A quiet wave of relief washed over Boren.

If Aldric had been orchestrating this situation, he would have maintained a steadier demeanor, more composed. A man involved in conspiracy rarely flinches at the mere mention of coincidence.

But relief didn’t equate to certainty.

Boren leaned back again, interlocking his fingers with deliberate calmness.

“So I’ll ask you plainly, Master Aldric,” he said, letting his voice grow colder, stripping away any hint of previous cordiality. “Do you know anything about the attack on the Greyvale Adventurer Guild?”

Aldric’s eyes locked onto Boren’s with unwavering intensity.

The chandelier above cast delicate shards of light throughout the room.

For what felt like an eternity, the entire mansion held its breath as everyone awaited Aldric Goldfeather’s response.

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