Low-Fantasy Occultist

Chapter 437

The carriage rolled through the last stretch of the road just as the morning sun broke over the horizon, where the tallest trees of the Green Ocean could be seen.

For the past day and a half, they had traveled with the rescued merchant caravan, maintaining a steady, comfortable pace. This was helped by the fact that, aside from a few brief stops to deal with minor monsters that had gotten too close to the road, their journey had been uninterrupted.

Nick sat by the window, observing the familiar landscape as it passed by. The rhythmic clatter of the wheels on the dirt provided a soothing rhythm for his thoughts, and for once, he genuinely felt fully rested, a feeling that was rarer than he would have preferred.

Having a crystallized soul will be very helpful when crossing into Prestige, but even beyond that, its resilience and quick recovery are almost worth all the effort it took to get here.

Not that he’d cast anything particularly demanding, but he was well aware that what he’d done in the Tower should have led to much worse consequences.

Instead of lying in a bed, comatose, as he should have been, he was full of energy. That was a good thing because his instincts told him he’d need it in the coming days.

As they reached the top of the final hill, the entire landscape of Floria came into view.

Nick leaned forward, resting his forearms on the windowsill. He had expected to see a town stretched thin by the influx of refugees, perhaps struggling under the weight of its sudden expansion.

What he saw instead was a grand testament to his mother’s administrative skill.

The sleepy frontier town he’d left behind months ago was gone. The original wooden palisades had been taken down to make room for a large expansion, and an outer circle of temporary canvas tents and quickly built timber cabins stretched across the eastern fields, sheltering the endless flow of displaced northerners.

Yet, despite its nature, the area was organized into neat grids, with wide avenues left open for patrols and firebreaks.

More impressively, he could sense that the inner town had prospered, as the wealth brought by the arrival of so many merchants and the monster trade of the Green Ocean had clearly been put to good use.

The dirt roads in the commercial district were now paved with smooth, fitted cobblestones. Many of the old wooden rooftops had been replaced with sturdy slate roofs, and new multi-story brick buildings housed the growing merchant groups. It was a busy, prosperous hub of commerce that showed no signs of collapsing under its own weight, as he’d feared.

"Mother has been busy," Devon murmured, looking out the opposite window with a proud smile. His own senses were sharp enough that he could probably spot individual bricks in the old market district even from a distance. "I knew she was working on expanding, but I didn't expect the inner districts to look this refined. She must have heavily taxed the merchants to fund the paving.”

"She knows how to extract value from an opportunity," Xander commented from the driver's bench, steering the horses down the gentle slope toward the new entry gate.

The merchant caravan rattled along behind them. Its master, a stout, talkative man named Paul, had spent the previous evening regaling Devon with his grand plans to secure a lucrative iron contract with the local Lord.

Paul had assumed Nick and Devon were simply strangely young mercenary escorts hired by the man in the black carriage, and neither brother had bothered to correct him, finding the anonymity refreshing.

And a good way to learn more about what people think of us. It seems that Floria still has a reputation for being a bit rough, not helped by the large crowds of people who came to take advantage of its new charter, but as long as the situation doesn’t get out of control, that’s not too bad. Rome wasn’t built in a day, after all.

As they neared the gate, the reality of Floria's growth became even clearer. A long line of wagons, handcarts, and tired travelers stretched out from the checkpoint, likely having camped outside of town overnight while the gates were closed, eager to finally enter.

A dozen town guards in polished chainmail were methodically inspecting cargo and checking travel papers. They looked a bit tired despite their numbers, but they remained disciplined, which was more than he’d expected, considering that the last time he’d seen a patrol, as he was leaving the territory, he’d caught them stealing without remorse.

Xander didn’t slow the carriage to fall in at the back of the line, guiding the horses smoothly up the left side and bypassing the waiting merchants completely.

Paul urged his own draft horses to follow, waving a hand out the side of his wagon. "Ho there, friends! We might want to wait for our turn. The frontier guards can be rather strict about line-jumping, and I'd prefer not to risk my trading license on the first day!”

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Xander ignored him and brought the black carriage to a stop right in front of the main gate's barricade, much to the merchant’s frustration.

A veteran guard with a scarred face and a heavy halberd stepped forward immediately, his expression souring. "Back of the line with you. There are no exceptions for fancy carriages unless you carry a Royal writ or have an invitation from House Crowley, and the Lady didn’t warn us of anything of the sort.”

Devon pushed the carriage door open and stepped onto the cobblestones, offering the guard a friendly, familiar smile. "Good morning, Yon. The new paving looks great. Does Darien still have you working the early shifts?”

The guard froze. His eyes darted over Devon's armor, then shifted toward the carriage window where Nick was leaning out. The irritation on his face disappeared instantly, replaced by a wide, genuine grin of relief.

"Young Master Devon! Lord Nicholas!" Yon snapped his halberd to his side, offering a crisp salute. "We weren't expecting you! The Lady will be thrilled. Open the gates! Clear the way!”

The surrounding guards scrambled to pull the iron-reinforced barricades aside, giving them surprised looks.

Of the group, Nick recognized only a few and made sure to meet their eyes and smile, receiving hearty nods of respect as the warmth of appreciation spread through them. The rest were clearly newly hired, but there didn’t seem to be any issues with their handling of the line, so he stayed back, letting Devon take care of the whole thing.

Behind them, Paul nearly dropped his reins. His jaw dropped open as he stared at the young knight who had saved his life the day before, his mind working furiously to piece everything together.

A moment later, the merchant pulled his velvet hat from his head, his face flushing a deep shade of crimson as he realized he had spent an entire evening lecturing the Lords of Floria about the local economy.

Devon turned and gave him a friendly wave. "Good luck with your iron contract, Paul. Stop by the manor later this week, and we can discuss the tariffs.”

Nick chuckled softly as the carriage rolled through the gates, leaving the sputtering, deeply embarrassed merchant behind.

Riding through the streets of their hometown was a surreal experience. The layout of the main roads stayed the same, but the buildings and the energy around them were very different.

New shops had been built and opened while he’d been gone, some selling delicious-smelling pastries he was eager to try soon, while others displayed weapons on racks, likely to supply the increased soldiers and adventurers.

As if to prove his thoughts, the first customers of the day left the shop, and Nick saw mercenaries in mismatched armor rubbing shoulders with merchants in silks.

It was loud, lively, and unmistakably prosperous.

They traveled along the avenues, the fine craftsmanship of their carriage prompting those out and about this early to step aside until they reached the main plaza, where the old Town Hall stood.

Or rather, what had once been the Town Hall, and now was Crowley Manor.

The building had clearly undergone renovations, as its slightly faded look was now replaced by sleek iron gates, freshly painted walls, and refurbished interiors, showcasing just how high House Crowley had risen.

The gates swung open as one of the guards who’d accompanied them from the outer wall hurried to make the announcement, and Xander brought the horses to a stop in the central courtyard.

Nick stepped outside with a smile, taking a deep breath of the nostalgic air. Despite all the changes, the proximity of the Green Ocean still meant that resin, lumber, and earth were the most noticeable scents in the air, and after so long in the city, he took his fill.

Surprisingly, their mother wasn’t there to greet them as he’d expected, but one of the guards hurriedly showed them the way to the back of the manor, where the sound of displaced air could be heard in a rhythmic pattern.

Nick and Devon walked toward the sound, finding their mother in the midst of her morning routine.

Elena Crowley was not the type of woman to soften with age or responsibilities. Contrary to what one might expect of a Baroness, she wore simple, fitted training leathers that showcased her lean, functional muscles developed through years of hard living.

She was currently wielding a lead training sword as if it were a twig. It was clear that Eugene’s substantial leap in power had motivated her to make sure she didn't fall behind, and the ease with which she swung the lead blade at blurring speed showed just how well she’d done for herself.

She finished a wide horizontal swing, stopping the heavy sword with perfect control, and exhaled slowly, her breath forming clouds in the crisp morning air, before finally turning around.

Her stern, focused expression softened immediately when she saw them.

Elena dropped the sword, which hit the packed dirt with a heavy thud and embedded itself several inches into the ground, and crossed the training yard in a blur, wrapping her arms around Devon first, and then pulling Nick into her embrace.

"You're home," she murmured, holding them tightly, “My boys are home.”

She smelled of sweat, leather, and the comforting scent of lavender soap that Wulla sold. When she pulled back, she kept her hands on their shoulders as her eyes checked them for injuries. "I received the reports about the mess that took place in Alluria, but no details. Are you both okay?”

"We're fine, Mom," Devon assured her, returning her smile. "Nick handled the worst of it.”

Elena looked at Nick, her gaze lingering on his face. She was obviously having a hard time reconciling the image of her little boy with that of the young man before her, but eventually she sighed. "I can see that," she said softly, patting his cheek.

With one final squeeze, she let go and turned her focus to Xander, who had just stepped into the training yard. Elena straightened her posture, giving the old man a respectful curtsy.

"Grandmaster," she greeted him warmly. "House Crowley is honored by your presence. Eugene will be truly disappointed he wasn’t here to greet you.”

"The honor is mine, Lady Crowley," Xander replied smoothly, offering a shallow bow. "Your sons have made your House proud. I am simply ensuring their journey home was smooth and unimpeded.”

Devon cleared his throat and stepped slightly to the side to reveal Sonya, who had followed them into the yard. The girl stood with perfect, respectful posture, her hands folded neatly in front of her.

"Mother, this is Sonya," Devon introduced her formally, his voice barely masking the nervousness he felt. "She is the Grandmaster's aide, and she has been an invaluable friend to us in the city. More than a friend, in my case.”

Elena’s expression stayed warm, but her eyes shifted into the assessing gaze of a protective mother. She took in Sonya's tidy travel clothes, her calm demeanor, and the callouses on her fingers that indicated practical work.

Elena knew the world's dangers firsthand, and she knew that anyone surviving in the Grandmaster's orbit was not ordinary.

"Welcome to Floria, Sonya," she finally said, her tone polite and warm, yet carrying a subtle edge that showed she wanted to know exactly who this young woman was. "Any friend of my sons is welcome at our table.”

"Thank you, Lady Crowley," Sonya replied gracefully, bowing. When she rose, she met Elena's appraising gaze without flinching, radiating a calm that seemed to earn her a microscopic nod of approval from the matriarch. "Your town is remarkably well-organized for a settlement experiencing such rapid growth.”

Before Elena could respond, a streak of vibrant blue shot across the courtyard, and Nick barely had time to raise his hands before he got a faceful of fur as Talbot slammed into him, radiating joy.