Chapter 58: The Order

Miss Rattlesnake came well-prepared.

Although Ethan had accepted her invitation, he had simultaneously prepared himself to scoff and storm off if she led him into any establishments that violated public order and good morals. Yet, in the end, he still committed the sin of judging a book by its cover, having made a premature and erroneous judgment based on her attire and figure.

He engaged in a profound moment of self-reflection.

"This place is called Star-Dial Alley. You can find almost every shop related the occult here: high-tier magic scroll shops, potion stores, the Astrological Society, magic bookstores..."

Miss Rattlesnake introduced the area to Ethan with a smile. Catering to a person's preferences was the fundamental rule of conduct for the consortium. They had conducted extensive research and discovered that, aside from his fondness for unleashing frost arrows onto the Black Sea, the only hobby of this suddenly emerged elemental evoker was browsing through the magic bookstores aboard the merchant ships.

He had even inquired with a bookstore manager about books on teleportation magic, and upon learning that the shop carried no such high-tier grimoires, he had departed in disappointment.

Thus, the image of a scholar detached from vulgar amusements and entirely devoted to the occult sprang vividly to mind.

And it stood to reason; Heisenberg looked so young yet had attained such mastery in both elemental evocation and magic scroll crafting simultaneously. He must have poured an unimaginable amount of energy into it, likely sacrificing even his sleeping hours for study.

Ethan was immersed in the rich, academic occult atmosphere of Star-Dial Alley. Here, one could spot pedestrians wearing magicians' robes and clutching grimoires strolling along the streets everywhere. Whenever small groups gathered, they were undoubtedly engaged in deep discussions regarding a specific spell.

Even the street lamps had been redesigned in a pumpkin motif, their eyes embedded with energy-storage crystals, casting a cool-toned light upon the pavement below.

The occupants of Star-Dial Alley were predominantly magicians—followers of Cadra, the God of Trickery.

As one of the empire's two most common types of "mages," their spellcasting system, in Ethan's understanding, felt more akin to wizards, renowned for their myriad ever-changing spells. He guessed that those high-tier magicians likely mastered incantations akin to the "Killing Curse."

"By the way, since we were unable to contact you yesterday, there is a matter we have yet to obtain your consent for. Please forgive our presumption."

Mid-sentence, Miss Rattlesnake suddenly halted her steps.

Ethan raised his gaze, and an impressive signboard illuminated by energy-storage crystals immediately came into view.

Old Sen Magic Scroll Shop.

Whether judged by the scale of the establishment or its interior decoration, it was far more luxurious than the VIP zone of the merchant ships. At this moment, the shop assistants were already in place; uniformly dressed and wearing identical masks, they were busy cleaning the interior.

Everything was prepared, with only the shelves remaining entirely empty, as if awaiting the arrival of a master magic scroll crafter.

He could utilize these resources to rapidly level up his elemental cartography skill. Although the private custom business had resolved his immediate financial pinch, such an output was bound to prevent any rapid proficiency gains; after three orders, his elemental cartography still languished at the Novice (24/45) stage.

Had it been anyone else, they likely would have gladly embraced this windfall dropped from the heavens.

"Indeed, it is rather presumptuous."

Ethan snapped out of his pleasant fantasy. He firmly believed that the shop also came equipped with a luxurious magic scroll crafting workshop, which inevitably reminded him of the dilemma once faced by the chemist Heisenberg, as drug lords had once provided Heisenberg with a "laundromat."

There was no such thing as a free lunch in this world.

He stated, "I have no intention of being employed by others for the time being."

"I completely understand your concerns, but the consortium believes that an extraordinarily talented elemental evoker like yourself should not be without even a decent shop. You may view this as an investment by the consortium in you."

"Are you implying that I should take out a startup loan from the Imperial Federal Reserve?"

"Although I am unaware of what has transpired, it seems you hold a deep prejudice against the consortium. The consortium will not impose any demands upon you; whatever you wish to sell in the shop remains entirely your freedom."

"So, what you are saying is that you have no performance standards, care nothing for turnover, and are providing me with a storefront in the prime location of Star-Dial Alley entirely free of charge with no expectation of return? Do I look like the sort of person who is easily gullible?"

At this point, Ethan paused slightly before continuing, "Along this way, I have seen nothing but magicians, and there is even an Astrological Society established here, which indicates you maintain close ties with the astrologers. Surely, then, you must have heard that the relations between magicians and elemental evokers are far from amicable."

Wherever magicians gathered, elemental evokers were guaranteed to be absent.

Even he, residing in a remote border town of the empire and exceedingly isolated from news in the occult realm, was well aware of the animosity between the two factions.

Not long ago, the owner of the merchant ship's magic scroll shop had offered a scathing critique of basic elemental spell scrolls—a microcosm of the elemental evoker's plight in this era.

With the rise of firearms and gunpowder, low-tier elemental spells had gradually lost their market. Compared to elemental magic, which possessed singular functionality and was practically restricted solely to combat, modern nobles and wealthy merchants vastly preferred spell-type magic scrolls, which offered diverse varieties and wide applications.

In this fierce market competition, elemental evokers emerged on the losing side.

The shifting market environment transformed magicians into respected and sought-after figures, while elemental evokers were forced back into their ivory tower—the Academy—much like aging artisans discarded by the currents of time.

Ethan was certain the Rofick Consortium was well aware of this background. After all, most occult shops in the empire received funding from them, and the prices of magicians and magic scrolls were ultimately manipulated by them from behind the scenes.

Setting up a magic scroll shop run by an elemental evoker right in the heart of Star-Dial Alley harbored malicious intent.

He simply hadn't yet figured out the consortium's true objective. If their only aim was to use magicians to mock or humiliate him, it would be far too petty.

"It seems nothing escapes your discerning eyes. The consortium merely wishes to return magicians to a state of mutual competition; they have stagnated in place for far too long, and were instantly and easily surpassed by your spells."

Miss Rattlesnake flattered him with a smile. "You may also view this shop as the remuneration for your first order."

"An order?"

"Your spells were most impressive. This is an order that only Mr. Heisenberg can fulfill. Regardless of how many materials you require, or what kind of assistants you need, the consortium will satisfy your demands to the utmost of our ability. We have only one request."

A pair of purple serpentine pupils fixed their gaze upon Ethan. Following the pleasantries and polite conversation, the viper finally seemed ready to bare its fangs.

"We wish to commission a spell from you—a spell capable of eliminating the Imperial Lord Commander."