Chapter 59: The Sun Will Eventually Set

Ethan was astounded by the degree of freedom of speech in Hearth Bay; one could even openly discuss assassinating the Empire's Lord Commander here. He couldn't help but marvel at how much bolder people became when wearing a mask.

"Don't get me wrong. This is merely an insurance policy, one that won't be used unless absolute necessity demands it."

Sensing Ethan's shocked gaze, Miss Rattail explained, "Aside from us, there are many others who wish to eliminate her. Even if we are forced to resort to the scroll in a worst-case scenario, we will handle the aftermath meticulously to ensure this matter has zero connection to you or your magic scroll shop."

"Is the Lord Commander truly that unpopular?"

Ethan couldn't help but ask. It sounded as though everyone on the continent was eager to get rid of her.

"The Lord Commander is one of the very few righteous men left in the Empire. She strictly adheres to the code of chivalry and serves as an exemplary model for the royal army. I deeply admire someone of her character, and precisely because of that, she must die."

Rattail stated a horrifying truth in a tone of high praise.

So it all boiled down to a matter of choosing sides.

Dawning comprehension hit Ethan. In better times, an upright and loyal Lord Commander would undoubtedly be the Empire's most steadfast pillar of support. Yet, the Empire's current reality was light-years away from the definition of "better times." Back when he was still a guild clerk, he could hear hunters discussing the king's impending death almost every other day.

If the turmoil in the imperial capital had escalated to the point where even frontier residents openly discussed it constantly, it meant the situation had reached a critical state.

Regarding the king's imminent demise, the hunters felt profound unease and bewilderment, as if the imperial glory they so often spoke of was slipping away from them.

Thus, when bad times arrived, someone like the Lord Commander was bound to have an opportunity engineered for her removal.

"If the Lord Commander can perish at the hands of the false god's cultists, it will be the most dignified ending for everyone. Should she miraculously survive, then someone must ensure the Empire remains on the correct trajectory."

"That would ignite a war, wouldn't it? Is that what you consider the correct trajectory?"

Ethan asked.

This was the issue that worried frontier residents the most. Once a war broke out, small border towns like Riverwood would be the first to suffer.

"If that is your primary concern, how about moving to the Western Continent? The Deep Sea Council has established a new civilization there, where steam technology will replace the old order. The syndicate can prepare a large vessel for you."

As she spoke, Rattail looked up at Hearth Bay's sky, forever encircled by eternal night, as if suddenly inspired. "If the sun is destined to set, what matters is what we can secure before it goes down, isn't it?"

With just a few brief sentences, she pronounced judgment on the Empire's future.

Ethan understood that, to a certain extent, this also represented the syndicate's assessment of the Empire's future trajectory. Rather than engaging in an endless power struggle, they had chosen an entirely different path.

Pillaging and seizing all resources before settling on the Western Continent, where they claimed the sparks of a new civilization were being nurtured.

Therefore, the syndicate desperately hoped for a war that would sweep across the Empire. While the church and the nobility were preoccupied with managing the conflict, they could freely amass immense wealth through unbridled exploitation. In the annals of history prior to his transmigration, many had acquired colossal fortunes through similar means.

"Mr. Heisenberg, I've heard some rumors about you."

Rattail withdrew her gaze, looking straight into his eyes behind the mask, and offered a well-intentioned warning. "If I were you, I might convert Golden Lions into gold, energy-storing crystals, or potions—goods that hold universal value in Hearth Bay. Before long, currency may well lose its worth."

"Thank you for the advice. Your words have given me much to ponder."

Ethan expressed his sincere gratitude, a sudden sense of enlightenment washing over him.

"So, regarding the order, what is your response?"

"The guiding principle of Old Sen's Magic Scroll Shop is to satisfy every demand of our clients, even if you wish to deal with the Empire's Lord Commander."

Then, his tone shifted. "However, since the target is extraordinary, I will need to employ a unique and hazardous spell. Before that, you must be made aware of some vital details concerning my reputation."

"Please go ahead."

Rattail earnestly produced a notebook, the boulder weighing on her heart finally settling into place.

Heisenberg endorsed their philosophy, or perhaps they were fundamentally cut from the same cloth.

"As I mentioned earlier, this spell involves certain taboo knowledge, and thus it must never be used until the absolute last resort. Regardless of whom you intend to dispatch to carry out the task, you must ensure they understand that the price of this spell is their life."

Ethan borrowed terminology from *Thermodynamics of Fireballs and Ice Arrows*. "The essence of elemental spells is emotion. The more desperate the situation, the greater the potency of the spell. What you need is someone prepared to face death without fear."

"Certainly."

Rattail jotted down every single word. The corners of her lips curved upward; Heisenberg's cautions only served to convince her further of the spell's unimaginable destructive power.

Having finished these instructions, Ethan glanced once more at the bright and dazzling signboard of "Old Sen's Magic Shop." He changed his mind. "As agreed, I will run this establishment."

Rattail's preceding words had awakened him. His thinking had ultimately remained far too conservative. When the syndicate extended an olive branch, his instinctive reaction had been to avoid associating with them.

Yet, just as Rattail had said, if the sun was bound to set, what could they hope to salvage before it vanished entirely?

What was immune to destruction by the fires of war?

The answer was knowledge and skill proficiency.

And in Star-Dial Alley, Ethan had found everything he required.

A potion shop, a magic scroll workshop, boundless knowledge within the magic bookstore, and an almost inexhaustible supply of raw materials for alchemy and elemental cartography within the workshop.

As for promises, grudges, and debts—as Rattail noted, once war erupted, they would all dissolve into an irrecoverable ledger of chaotic accounts, with at least half of these enlisted mages forced onto the battlefields.

Before that moment arrived, all of this could belong to him!

Bidding farewell to Rattail, an enlightened Ethan walked straight back into the shop, exchanged brief greetings with the clerks, and headed directly for the workshop. The syndicate had prepared top-tier drafting tools for him; measuring instruments previously seen only in *Simple Production Procedures for Magic Scrolls* were neatly arranged across the workbench.

Even more significant were the piles of energy-storing parchment stacked within the workshop—multiple piles of both low and high grades, so numerous at a glance that they defied counting.

In this moment, he no longer needed to pander to client demands, but could instead mechanically grind his elemental cartography skill proficiency, much like crafting scrolls in a video game.

Ethan buried himself in work at the workbench for over two hours. By the time he received the notification that his elemental cartography skill had reached the novice tier, more than twenty frost arrow scrolls were already stacked upon the table.

He gathered the bundle of scrolls and stepped out of the workshop. The clerks immediately cast astonished glances his way.

Most of them had spent time in magic scroll workshops and knew full well that it was arguably the most meticulous work in the world. Even the premier magic scroll crafters could not produce more than a handful of high-tier scrolls in a single night.

Yet their boss had produced over twenty right out of the gate!

"Boss, what should the pricing be for these scrolls?"

Everyone snapped to absolute attention.

"Pricing? There is no pricing. Take these scrolls to the commercial ships at the harbor docks right now, and distribute them among the hunters, investigators, and anyone else fitting that description. The important thing is to ensure they encounter situations requiring these scrolls as soon as possible."

Based on the principle of shared proficiency for magic scrolls, Ethan had devised a leveling chain for himself.

These basic scrolls used to grind elemental cartography proficiency could be repurposed for a secondary utility: getting others to help him farm monsters and level up.

"Distribute them? If I understand correctly, you mean giving them away for free?"

"This is business operations."

Ethan straightened his expression, feigning profound wisdom. "First, we must let our clients understand the quality of our product!"

Even if low-tier elemental spell scrolls had lost their market value, free items were hard to resist.

The only drawback to this approach was that it burned through capital at an alarming rate.

Fortunately, someone else was willing to foot the bill to help him raise his proficiency.

What more could he possibly say?

*This scroll is sponsored and distributed by the Rofic Syndicate.*