Chapter 244: Allies And Target

The massive gates of Goldfeather Mansion creaked shut behind Boren and Valeria, their heavy metallic sound echoing across the expansive courtyard.

The late afternoon sun cast elongated shadows over the pale stone path leading to the outer road. For a moment, neither Aldric nor Orak spoke; they simply stood at the entrance, watching as the two Guild representatives walked away with steady strides, their figures gradually diminishing down the road flanked by neatly trimmed hedges and silent guards.

A gentle breeze carried a hint of river water from beyond the estate walls, yet it did little to lift the weighty atmosphere hanging between father and son.

Orak was the first to break the silence. “Thirty million,” he said slowly, almost as if saying it aloud would make it feel less surreal. His brows knitted together in disbelief rather than anger. “Father… that’s not just a small amount. It’s excessive. Why did you agree so easily?”

Aldric didn’t respond right away; his gaze remained fixed on Boren and Valeria until they vanished around a bend in the road. Only then did he turn slightly to look at his son. There was no panic or regret in his expression, only a calmness born of experience, years spent weighing risk against reward.

“Son,” Aldric said quietly, his voice steady and low, “to others, thirty million is a fortune. But for us… it isn’t.”

Orak stared at him in confusion.

Aldric offered a faint, weary smile. “Thirty million sounds enormous when spoken aloud,” he continued, “but for our family business, it barely represents a month’s revenue. Some months we earn even more.”

Orak blinked in surprise. Despite having grown up surrounded by wealth and knowing that his father controlled ships, warehouses, and trade routes spanning cities, hearing it expressed so plainly still felt strange.

“A month’s revenue…” he echoed softly.

Aldric nodded affirmatively. “Yes. It bruises pride more than it impacts our treasury.”

Orak looked down at the stone beneath his feet, thoughts swirling in his mind. “Then why hesitate earlier?” he asked after a pause. “If it’s only a month’s income, why did you seem so conflicted?”

Aldric chuckled softly under his breath. “Because negotiation isn’t solely about numbers,” he replied thoughtfully. “It’s about positioning, about setting precedents. If I had agreed too quickly, it would signal weakness; if I had refused too firmly, it could provoke retaliation. What Boren did in that room wasn’t merely an accusation; it was pressure, a clear message that whether I paid or not, the Guild would move forward regardless of my choice.”

Orak raised his head slowly and regarded his father more intently now. “Do you think he would have exposed us?”

Aldric paused before responding, casting a glance at the guards stationed along the wall. Then he turned and began to walk slowly down the path that led deeper into the estate grounds, with Orak following closely behind.

“Boren isn’t a fool,” Aldric remarked as they walked. “He smiles and speaks gently, but there’s calculation behind that demeanor. He didn’t come here to shout or threaten; he came prepared. He had information and confidence. That tells us the Guild isn’t desperate. They’re wounded, yes, but not weak.”

Orak frowned at this revelation. “Do you really think they know that much?”

“They were aware of my visit to the inner northern district,” Aldric replied calmly. “They knew about my detour and even suspected a connection to the Holy Church. That means they’re watching us more closely than we realized. If they wanted to drag my name through the streets, they could start doing so tomorrow. Even without public proof, mere suspicion can harm trade.”

Orak fell silent again, processing this information.

They arrived at the central fountain in the courtyard, where water flowed gently from intricately carved stone. Aldric stopped there and rested his hands lightly behind his back, gazing into the clear water.

“But that’s not the only reason,” Aldric added after a moment.

Orak waited for him to continue.

“The man who approached me promised safety,” Aldric said, lowering his voice slightly. “He assured me that once the Guild is weakened, no one would dare question my involvement. He claimed that the Guild would be too preoccupied with survival to look backward.”

Orak’s eyes darkened with concern. “And you believed him?”

“I believed he had power,” Aldric corrected him softly. “I didn’t believe he was kind.”

A gentle breeze rustled through the leaves of tall trees near the wall.

“Are we safe now?” Orak asked quietly.

That question hung in the air longer than any other.

Aldric didn’t respond immediately; instead, he stared at the water in the fountain as if seeking an answer within its depths.

“Safe,” he finally repeated slowly. “That depends.”

“On what?”

“On whether that man sees me as useful… or disposable.”

Orak felt a tightness in his throat.

“You think he might come after us?”

Aldric turned to face his son, warmth returning to his gaze. “If he thinks I might reveal something that threatens him, then yes.”

Orak swallowed hard. “Then why cooperate with the Guild at all? Why not stay silent and distance ourselves?”

“Because silence would make me look guilty,” Aldric explained calmly. “And if that man truly has influence within the Church or beyond it, I cannot face him alone. The Guild may be wounded, but they remain one of Greyvale’s strongest forces. Aligning with them now offers us protection.”

Orak looked taken aback. “So you didn’t just pay to ease your guilt… you paid to secure an alliance.”

Aldric’s faint smile returned. “You’re starting to understand.”

They continued their slow walk toward the main building.

“You need to grasp something important,” Aldric said as they neared the entrance. “Business isn’t solely about profit; it’s about survival. Thirty million gold may seem extravagant to ordinary people, but if that money can prevent a public scandal, ensure the Guild’s neutrality, and protect us from the true mastermind behind this chaos, then it’s a bargain.”

Orak remained silent for several moments before speaking again. “And what about those who lost their lives?” he asked quietly.

“Do you feel nothing?”

Aldric stopped once more. This silence felt heavier than before.

“I do feel it,” he finally replied after a long pause. “Don’t think I don’t. I never wanted bloodshed, but good intentions don’t erase consequences. That’s why I agreed to pay without further argument. Money can’t bring back the dead, but it can support their families and help rebuild what was lost.”

Orak nodded slowly, though unease lingered in his expression.

“And what of the Guildmaster?” Orak asked cautiously. “If he wakes up… will he let this go?”

Aldric narrowed his eyes slightly. “That depends on what kind of man he is.”

Orak hesitated before asking, “What if he isn’t as reasonable as Boren?”

Aldric’s demeanor shifted to seriousness. “Then we prepare ourselves.”

“For what?” Orak inquired.

“For a world where power shifts once again.”

They reached the mansion’s entrance steps but paused instead of entering, turning their gaze back down the road as if anticipating something unexpected.”

“Father,” Orak said after a moment, “do you regret it?”

Aldric didn’t pretend not to understand the question.

“Yes,” he replied simply.

Orak regarded him intently.

“I regret trusting a stranger,” Aldric elaborated. “I regret believing that someone who hides his face would keep his word. I regret putting my family at risk.”

“And what about the Guild?” Orak pressed.

Aldric’s expression softened again. “I regret that others suffered because of my desperation.”

They stood in silence for a long time afterward.

Eventually, Orak spoke again, his voice smaller now: “What if that man returns? What if he demands more?”

Aldric’s face hardened slightly at this thought. “Then this time, we won’t face him alone.”

Orak took a slow breath and asked, “Do you think Boren suspects more than he’s letting on?”

Aldric’s lips curled into a faint smile. “I think He does.”

“And Lady Valeria?”

“She doesn’t forget,” Aldric replied.

As they approached the mansion’s doors, Orak stole another glance at his father. “Thirty million,” he muttered, still shaking his head in disbelief.

Aldric placed a reassuring hand on his son’s shoulder. “One day, you’ll understand,” he said gently. “Gold can always be earned back, but reputation and survival are much harder to reclaim.”

Orak nodded slowly, absorbing his father’s words.

Yet, as they ventured deeper into the mansion, an unsettling tension lingered between them. They may have brokered a deal with the Guild, but the real threat was still lurking in the shadows.

Somewhere in the city or perhaps beyond, was the man who had orchestrated their predicament, watching their every move.

If he discovered that Aldric had started working with the Guild… then thirty million gold would be just a fraction of their troubles.

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