Len sat in the cold sitting room, his enchanted armor providing little comfort against the chill. The waiting was a deliberate slight - Lord Warwick making them cool their heels to assert his importance.

  Len pulled his messenger bag around to his front. He'd kept it in his pack through the dungeon excursions not wanting it to get in the way.

  Now it was packed with items from the dungeon off to the side.

  Guess we don't really look like honored guests.

  They had weapons and armor and came wearing packs filled with items.

  If it was functional it didn't matter how they looked. He retrieved a piece of paper, and turned over his messenger bag, using it as an impromptu table, beginning to draft a contract while they waited.

  The scratching of his pencil filled the silence.

  Rick looked out of the slatted window that looked down on Warwick and its train station.

  A guard stood stiffly by the door, hand resting on his sword hilt.

  Len briefly wondered how much the town was going to change. In the past it had been one of the first overrun with the dungeon overflows. Now the dungeons were being regulated and there would be a massive amount of materials moving through the area, no longer just food.

  Depending on how much control we get we could teach the farmers in the area new farming techniques.

  They had a growing season, max two before farms beyond defenses would become difficult to impossible to maintain.

  Len added in clauses, flipped the piece of paper over and jotted down a binding enchantment.

  He put the piece of paper on the table between chairs. He studied the guard at the door, then pulled out another piece of paper and wrote out a different contract.

  After what felt like hours, the double doors swung open. Lord Warwick swept in wearing an elaborate burgundy coat with silver threading, his personal guard trailing behind him. The noble's eyes widened slightly at their battle-worn gear and weapons before his face settled into a carefully neutral expression.

  "What brings you..." he paused, lips curling slightly, "to my home today?"

  Len continued writing as Rick stepped forward. "We have a business proposition for you, my lord. I am Rick Isendia of Goran."

  "I heard that Tyrus was removed—recently." The man frowned, trying to piece together information.

  "Yes my Grandma, Lady Carolyn has recovered her health and found out certain unpleasant truths," Rick smiled.

  "I am unsure of what business you would have with me?" Warwick said.

  Len rose, putting the second contract on the table as he pushed his messenger bag to the side and picked up the second contract, handing it to Rick.

  "As you may have heard we have brought more of our mercenaries home so they might spend this winter with their families. We are looking to increase our holdings of land to grow more food to meet their needs." Rick held out a contract.

  "We're offering thirty gold up front - a comfortable home in Eskon and a stipend of three gold per week. All you need to do is swear yourself as our vassal."

  Lord Warwick's gaze flickered between them and made to open his mouth.

  Rick raised a finger. "You would remain Lord Warick in name. What you do with the funds is up to you. We all know about the decline in harvest this year. The beasts are getting stronger and bolder. The offer lasts while I am in this room."

  "If you agree you will leave in a week," Len said.

  "A week?" Warwick asked.

  "A home in the capital, gold to support yourself for the rest of your days. I do not notice a Miss Warwick, in Eskon you will be able to meet with all manner of women that would eagerly marry a well-off bachelor."

  "My family name," Warwick started.

  "Is yours to keep," Rick said.

  "Three gold is—"

  "Nearly a hundred and sixty gold per year," Rick said. "We might ask you to pass on information that you find out, or host some of our friends. We are a mercenary family, we do not know the ways of high nobles, which you will be one of."

  "Four gold?" He ventured.

  Got you.

  Rick squinted at Warwick, then held out a hand. Len passed him a pencil.

  Rick made an adjustment to the papers and turned it to face Warwick.

  The man reached out for it but Rick drew his hand back. "Before we can make this agreement could you bring up all of the guards that you have under your employ?"

  "Gather the rest of the guards." Warwick shooed the guard at the door. The man's boots clicked against the wooden floor before he hurried off.

  Within minutes, boots thundered up the stairs. Eight guards filed into the room. Their armor was simple with only simple utility knives at their waists, their primary weapons spears and a few rifles.

  Len pulled the second contract from the table and approached the first guard. "This is a binding contract for employment, with pay and conditions." He held out his pencil.

  One by one, the guards signed, some hesitating briefly before adding their marks to the paper. Len could feel the magic settling into place with each signature - they wouldn't be able to betray him and Rick or break laws while under contract.

  He turned to Rick.

  "And this is all of your guards?" Rick asked.

  "Yes," Warwick said.

  Rick signed the contract and handed it to Warwick, Len had already signed it.

  Len signed the contract with the soldiers and passed it to Rick.

  The contract in Warwick's hands burnt apart as the man waved his hands and stumbled backwards.

  Rick signed the contract with the guards. The paper flared with a brief blue light before crumbling to ash.

  "And there we are, binding—completely," Rick said.

  Len checked two copies of Warwick's contract in his messenger bag, handing one to the now-former lord and closing his messenger bag. The man's fingers brushed against the paper as he took it, his face still processing what had just transpired.

  "A pleasure doing business with you," Rick said. He looked at the guards.

  "You will adhere to the laws of the land. You now report to the Isendia mercenaries. I want a clear assessment of the village's defenses, conditions of the farms in the area. You will continue to buy food at the rates you had before. Do not pressure people to sell. There will be others with orders for you in the future. Lord Warwick I hope you enjoy Eskon and do not reveal the contract or what is happening here."

  "Of course," Warwick said.

  "Enjoy your trip." Rick looked at the guards. "I would suggest that you take this as an opportunity to make sure there are no lapses going forward."

  Rick grabbed his pack and everyone made room for him and Len as they headed out of the small manor.

  They left the building, boots crunching on the gravel path outside. The town of Warwick spread out below them - the fields, the station, the market square - all of it now under their control.

  "Well that will make things easier," Len said.

  "That's another two hundred hundred gold per year we need to find somewhere," Rick said. "Between paying off Warwick, the guards, getting materials for the dungeons, paying the farmers..."

  "And we still need to fund the train construction," Len added.

  "The Xintas will need materials, tools, workers." Rick ran a hand through his hair.

  They walked through the town to the station and bought tickets to Goran.

  Farmers and their families milled around on the platform with their belongings in tow. They looked worn and tired.

  Less of them now than there had been a few weeks ago. Though the village was shrinking, more businesses boarded up and fewer people with a trade sticking around.

  Len pulled out his sound talisman. "Let's check with Lucius, see how the sales are going in Velkaris."

  They moved off to the side of the station.

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  He pushed mana into the stone, it pulsed light confirming a connection had been made to Lucius's matching talisman. After a moment, the stone hummed with the man's voice.

  "Ah, my favorite suppliers. I was just about to contact you."

  "How are things progressing?" Len asked.

  "The light crystal jewelry has exceeded expectations," Lucius said through the talisman. "The nobles are falling over themselves to acquire pieces. I've started auctioning them off - the bidding wars are quite entertaining. One countess offered her summer estate for a complete set."

  Len raised his eyebrows at Rick. They hadn't expected the jewelry to be that popular.

  "We'll be increasing production soon. How much can you handle?" Len asked.

  "Double, triple what you're sending now - there's plenty of demand. Just keep it coming and I'll keep the gold flowing. I have been working with the heating crystals and getting them ready. The market shows interest in them, though with the bite of cold and the high prices for wood and coal coming will open up people's willingness for a new heat source."

  “We’re using a lot in Goran’s fields, should be able to divert some to you,” Len said.

  “How much income are we talking about here?” Rick asked.

  "Nearly three hundred gold for the light crystal jewelry. About fifteen hundred gold worth of food, another a hundred and fifty gold for ever-lights—those are lanterns and lights made from the light crystals. Your sound transmission devices have revolutionized how we operate," Lucius continued. "My people can coordinate across Plynthia instantly. The efficiency increase alone has been worth the investment. We should fulfill all of the orders within the month."

  "Fifteen hundred gold in food, how much is that?" Rick asked.

  "We've secured agreements for nearly all available surplus food in Plynthia in exchange for the weapons and armor. The volume is... concerning. There's far less than there should be at this time of year. But combined with what we already have stored, it should see us well through winter and into next year,” Lucius said.

  Len leaned against the station wall. "We'll need to focus on preservation methods in Goran. Get as much stored away as possible from our harvests." The enchanted growing fields surplus would be a massive boon, but they needed to keep that from spoiling.

  "The weapons and armor are simply too valuable with the current situation. Though I'd give it a few months for the nobles who haven't laid in supplies to realize that the amount of food for sale this year is not very high," Lucius added.

  "Will they trace it back to us?" Rick asked.

  "They shouldn't we bought through separate traders so they wont figure out it was us. Allowed us to negotiate the best prices," Lucius said.

  "I would like to set up an agreement between Goran and Velkaris for food, tie us to one another. We have plenty of water and fish, though we have little land we can grow upon."

  "Thankfully we can control consumption through the mercenaries. It would be best to keep everyone's belts tight this winter so we can stretch our stores," Len said.

  "Hide the extra food we have from other eyes?" Lucius said.

  "We're bound to gather attention. The fields and the building we're doing in Goran is hard to hide," Rick said.

  Lucius's tone shifted, becoming more serious. "There is another matter we need to discuss. When transferring the profits to the Goran accounts, our people in the bank noticed... scrutiny."

  Len and Rick shifted their positions.

  "The bank officials are paying close attention to your accounts. The method I used to inject the funds - it can only be used once without raising suspicions. We'll need alternative approaches going forward," Lucius said.

  Len watched Rick's brow furrow. "Why would the bank be looking into them now?"

  "Tyrus's death and Lady Carolyn's return to power has drawn attention? You have said there were debts? Maybe they are worried if they will be paid or not?"

  "My grandma said that the bank might use the debts and their connections with the other nobles to try and split up our land and sell it off," Rick said.

  "I have heard of other things happening before," Lucius said. "There is another piece that my ears have heard of. The courts and council are dragging their feet. Lady Carolyn should have been confirmed in her position weeks ago, but the process keeps getting delayed."

  "The king's bedridden," Len said. "Has been for months now. Goran controls one of the largest military forces in Plynthia - withholding legitimacy from Carolyn gives them leverage."

  "Who?" Rick asked.

  "Whoever confirms her position," Lucius said. "Probably after she has rendered some kind of service. Though it is well known how she has supported the king. While Tyrus was amenable to others."

  Rick cursed under his breath.

  "The nobles want concessions," Len added. "They're using the bureaucracy to pressure her." He'd seen similar tactics employed before, though last time around he hadn't understood the deeper political currents at work.

  The sound talisman pulsed with Lucius's agreement. "Precisely. Until Lady Carolyn is officially confirmed, any major financial movements through official channels will face additional scrutiny."

  Len rubbed his chin. "What are our options?"

  "Easiest is to deal in hard currency - physical gold and goods," Lucius said. "It's more cumbersome, but harder to trace. I can arrange secure transport through my network."

  "That might be better in the end. The less we have stored with the banks not within our lands the better," Rick said.

  "If we're not using others banks then we're going to have to create one of our own," Len said.

  "That sounds like altogether too much work," Rick muttered.

  "I might know some people that would relish the challenge," Lucius said.

  "Perfect, getting a proper banking system set up with the fund tokens would be great," Len said. "Also the banks won't see our sudden wealth. Definitely worth talking on more. Anything else on your side?"

  "The nobles are dividing themselves into camps," Lucius's voice came through the talisman. "Prince Roland has gathered support from the central territories, while Prince Marcus courts the merchant families, the mining cities and those along the coast. Neither has enough backing to secure the throne outright."

  Len heard the distant whistle of the approaching train, its rhythmic chugging growing louder.

  Marcus was able to drive Roland out, securing Eskon. The East sided with Roland and the West with Marcus. Len worked his jaw. It had been a waste of lives and an exercise in stupidity.

  His hand curled into a fist.

  "And what of the military?" Rick asked.

  "Split. The regular army backs Roland, but the mercenary companies are holding back, waiting to see who offers better terms."

  "Or who can actually pay them," Len added.

  "Indeed. Speaking of payments, I've had my people copy ledgers from several banking houses. The financial ties between certain nobles are... illuminating. We will also need to create our own between one another to verify transactions," Lucius said.

  "I can do better than copied ledgers. Give me a few days and I'll create a set that transfers information between them. Write in one, it appears in the other instantly."

  "Like the sound talismans?" Lucius asked, interest clear in his voice.

  "Similar principle, different application. We can keep perfect records across locations."

  "Combined with the sound transmission network..." Lucius trailed off. "Yes, that would streamline operations considerably. How many can you make?"

  "Three linked sets to start. One for you, one for us, one for Lady Carolyn."

  The train's whistle blew again, closer now. Len could see smoke rising in the distance.

  "Excellent," Lucius said. "The faster we can track movements of goods and gold, the better positioned we'll be. If you can create more then I'd be willing to pay for it handsomely."

  "Gold, you do know the way to my heart," Len chuckled, though there was a tightness in his actions.

  Rick frowned at him in question but didn't raise a question.

  "We've got to go, train approaching."

  "Safe travels," Lucius ended the sound transmission.

  Len's jaw clenched. The memory of friends dying in muddy trenches, screaming as mana-mutated beasts tore through their lines while the princes argued over strategy in their comfortable tents, burned fresh in his mind.

  "Those idiotic, selfish bastards." His fingers dug into his palms. "They'll start their stupid war and thousands will die because they can't share power or work together."

  He looked at Rick. "We could stop it. Two quick knife thrusts. No civil war, no divided kingdom when the apocalypse hits." His hand moved to the blade at his hip.

  "But then someone else steps in, maybe someone worse." The rage still coursed through him. "Doesn't matter who sits on the throne when the mana storms come. Regular people still die while the nobles hide in their fortified manors."

  Rick nodded. "So we focus on protecting who we can. Building defenses, gathering resources."

  "Watching it all happen again..." Len's voice cracked. "Our friends - they all died for nothing in that war. And these princes are about to start the same damn cycle."

  The train's whistle pierced the air again, closer now. Len forced his breathing to steady, trying to push down the anger that threatened to overwhelm him. They couldn't change everything, couldn't save everyone. But they could prepare, could strengthen their position before the real threats arrived.

  "Think it through," Rick said. "We kill the princes. Then what? The nobles won't just accept it and move on. They'll be out for blood, turning over every stone to find the assassins."

  Len's anger cooled slightly as Rick continued.

  "Everything would fall to Princess Bethany. She's what, sixteen? The nobles would be all over her, each trying to become her 'trusted advisor' while grabbing whatever power they can get their hands on."

  Rick was right. Len had seen how the nobility operated, like sharks circling wounded prey.

  "And there's no guarantee they wouldn't still fight each other," Rick added. "Different factions backing different claims to the regency. The same war, just with different faces leading it."

  Len rubbed his temples. The rage that had burned so hot moments ago was fading, replaced by cold practicality.

  "We have Goran and Velkaris," Rick said. "Those are our bastions. The rest of the kingdom..." He shrugged. "It's not our responsibility. We focus on protecting our people, building our strength. Let the nobles play their games—fuck 'em."

  The train's wheels squealed against the rails as it pulled into the station. Steam hissed from the engine. Len watched the passengers begin to board, ordinary people just trying to survive while the powerful fought over who would rule them.

  Len stepped onto the train, his mind churning with frustration. The familiar weight of his weapons felt useless - what good were they if he couldn't use them to prevent the coming bloodshed? He slumped into a seat across from Rick.

  "We could make it look like an accident," Len muttered. "Or stage it to look like one killed the other. We've got the skills, the magic."

  Rick shook his head. "Too many eyes watching them. Someone would figure it out eventually."

  Len drummed his fingers on his thigh. He hated this feeling of powerlessness, of watching events unfold that he knew would lead to disaster. The first time through had been bad enough - experiencing it again, knowing what was coming but unable to stop it...

  A thought struck him. "Wait - didn't you attend Valoria Academy with Princess Bethany? What was she like?"

  Rick's expression shifted. "Sharp. Sharper than either of her brothers. She understood politics, economics, military strategy - but they never let her near any real power."

  "Because she's a woman?"

  "Partly. But mostly because she was useful as a potential marriage piece. Keep her weak, controllable." Rick's lip curled. "The nobles see her as a puppet they can manipulate. She's got no real supporters of her own, no power base."

  "Could she break free of that? Take control herself?"

  "Maybe. But she'd need backing - military strength, economic resources, political allies. Right now she's trapped in the role they've forced her into." Rick sighed. "And even if she did somehow gain power, the nobles would fight twice as hard to tear her down. A woman on the throne? They'd never accept it."

  "That's stupid," Len shook his head.

  "We lived in a world where the only power one had came from your level or the level of the people you could call on. Grandma might have control inside of Goran but look at how the nobles are holding back from recognizing her and she ran the city. My father was recognized as the ruler of Goran even though my mother ruled it in reality."

  Len leaned back, considering. Another piece of the puzzle he hadn't fully understood in his previous life. The princess wasn't just a passive observer - she was a player without pieces, a ruler without a kingdom.

  He shook his head.

  "Not like its going to matter much when everything devolves into city-states just fighting to survive," Len said.