'Young master.'
Rats, thought Seth as he wrapped his coat around him and buttoned it up. 'Yes, Terence?'
'You're going down to town again, aren't you?'
'I have some business there.'
'Does that business involve mingling with the commoners?' Seth said nothing. Terence sighed, 'Young master, you really shouldn't be making friends with the common folk. They'll think low of you and abuse your kindness.'
'Don't worry about me, Terence. I'll handle myself. Oh, and, by the way, help me tidy up my office, will you? I've got my documents stacked neatly, so don't touch those, but the rest of the place is a mess. Thanks!'
'Young master, if you wish to become a cultivator, you will have to learn to fend for yourself. Servants will almost certainly be difficult to come by the further up the realms you go.' At that, Seth paused and pondered for a moment. Then, he shrugged and opened the wooden door. A gust of wind blew into the corridor; the two shivered.
'I'll handle those problems later. For now, I'll have my fun,' Seth walked outside. 'It's getting cold, Terence. Keep warm. I'll see you tomorrow.' Then, he closed the door behind him, cutting off his butler's complaint.
An autumn breeze blew him by. Seth looked down onto the port town of Melano and the sea just past it. The Sun was setting behind the town, casting the rippling waves in shades of molten steel. Seth sighed. What a sight it was, to look down upon his years of work. Melano used to be a rundown fishing village, but after Seth had gotten permission from his father, he had raised the place out of the trenches and turned it into a minor trading hub within and beyond the Barony, and things were only going to improve from there.
Seth walked down the path leading down the hill his manor sat upon, skipping down each slab of stone by twos. The wind blew his cloak about like a flag; he had to keep it down with his hands like any present-minded lady would their dress.
By the time he had gotten to the foot of the hill, the Sun had gone down, and the Moon had risen, bathing the town in its white light. The lighthouse he had commissioned a year ago was complete, and its lights were already on. He nodded in approval as he stepped onto the cobbled stone path leading from the main entrance of his manor to one of Melano's major streets. The streets used to be pitch dark and empty, but now, reinforced steel streetlights glowed with a dim firelight. It was a much-needed improvement to the town.
Seth had a lot of plans for the town. The River Ander flowed between the two hills overlooking Melano—the southern hill being Seth's home, and the northern a forested hiking trail—and struck right through the town, making industrialisation through the installation of water wheels a very possible project. Then, he wouldn't have to rely on expensive materials for the streetlights and would also gain even more public favour. It was a win-win.
He smiled as he thought about it. Managing his own territory was busy and stressful, but reaping the rewards outweighs it all, especially now that he had finally managed to dip his toe into the cultivation world. Cultivation, right, thought Seth as he turned into a smaller street only two carriages wide. As Melano grew in commercial relevance, more parties specialising in different trades came to settle, and Seth had established contact with a dealer for low-level body tempering methods.
Body tempering methods allowed its practitioners to absorb Qi, the life force of the world, into their bodies to strengthen themselves, and Seth had been longing to get his hands on one
Finally, he thought, stopping in front of a small storefront in an even tighter alleyway. The storefront was made of sleek, dark hardwood. Where there were supposed to be windows was wooden panelling of the same wood, and the only decoration the place had was a hanging sign with a frothing glass of beer painted on it.
Seth pushed the dark wood door open and stepped into the bar. The intense stench of ornicova filled his nostrils as he entered. People were sitting at the counters, ordering drinks and tapas from the bartenders, who were just barely managing to keep up. Puffs of pastel pink smoke came from people's mouths as they inhaled and exhaled from their pipes, turning the dimly lit bar into a dull, hallucinogenic light show. Seth grimaced when he passed a dense cloud of the stuff. After trying it once with Liam, he wasn't all too keen about ornicova. It tasted bitter, and was hard to breathe.
Eventually, Seth made it to the back of the bar, where a single bartender stood, gracefully attending to a small gathering of six men fresh from a late shift on the docks.
'Good evening, Mr. Kenderson,' he said, sitting in a relatively quieter spot at the bar counter.
'I'll be right with you, sir. Please be patient,' said Mr. Kenderson, seemingly entranced by his own mixology. Seth didn't like to wait, but his years of education in etiquette kept him still as he watched the man mixing an order.
It took a whole minute for Mr. Kenderson to finish up, and at last, wiping his hands with a towel, he came up to Seth and said, 'What would you like tonight, sir?'
'Mr. Kenderson, I've come for my methods,' he said harshly.
Mr. Kenderson's expression froze, then shifted to abject horror, albeit well-hidden. 'O-Oh, My Lord! Yes, yes! I am so sorry for keeping you waiting, My Lord. I-I shall go get them for you at once!'
Seth sighed as Mr. Kenderson put down the glass in his hand. 'Don't worry about it. Calm yourself and mix me a ginger ale.'
'Of… Of course, My Lord! Thank you!' he said, and got to work.
'How has business been?' he asked. 'Are you finding the town comfortable?'
Mr. Kenderson answered nervously, 'Yes, My Lord. The place is wonderful here. I absolutely love the seafood, and the night strolls are safe, unlike in Gandel.'
'You came from the capital?'
'Yes, milord. Life up north has been getting harder. Less tourists have been coming to see the Cathedral, and food's getting scarcer while prices are still goin' up. My wife and the kids and I came here to escape the inflation.'
'I've heard about the inflation,' Seth said, recalling messages from some of his noble peers about the subject. But a baron like my father wouldn't get to know the details until it's too late.
Mr. Kenderson slid Seth his ginger ale, and he took a sip. His eyes glimmered with satisfaction. 'This. This is the stuff,' he grinned. 'You're forgiven for your sins, Hector. Your drinks are divine.' He slid a few coins across the table. 'Keep the change.'
'Th-Thank you, milord! Your praise honours me,' Mr. Kenderson stammered. He quickly snatched away the money like someone else was going to steal it, and continued, 'Would you like to see the manuals now, milord?'
'By all means, bring them out,' he said, and Mr. Kenderson hurried off to the back of the bar.
Seth sat by idly, sipping away at his mocktail as he contemplated his conversation with the bar owner. His trade routes were varied thanks to his territory being a port town, but the inflation had already begun baring its maw at Melano and the Barony as a whole. Prices were slowly but steadily creeping higher, and given the information he received from his peers closer to the capital, the cost of living would continue its upward trend. He would have to go consult his father about the situation. Surely he'd know better what to do.
A puff of smoke blew in his direction, and a bout of raucous laughter sounded from the group of workers sitting next to him. He did his best to beat the smoke away with his hand, but its bitter smell made its way into his nostrils anyway. He scrunched his nose and clicked his tongue under his breath, turning as far away as he could from the group of smokers. He took another sip.
'Here it is!' Mr. Kenderson whispered, coming up to the bar counter with two thin books bound with string in hand. He placed the first manual down on the counter and slid it over to Seth. 'This is the Yin-Yang Cell Matrix method.' Seth flipped through the manual and pocketed it in the inside of his coat. 'And this would be the Dendrichor Infusion method.' Seth checked and pocketed the other in another in-breast pocket. A smile widened across his face.
'Well done, Mr. Kenderson. You have my gratitude.' He handed the bar owner ten hundred-thena[1] bills. The man's eyes widened.
'Thank you, My Lord!' Mr. Kenderson said as Seth polished off the rest of his ginger ale.
'Don't mention it,' he waved a dismissive hand. 'I'll be off now. Have a good night.' Mr. Kenderson followed Seth out of the bar and bowed deeply after him as he walked off.
Seth caressed one of his two manuals through his outer pocket, taking long strides down the street toward a well-established hotel in the town. It was time to get cultivating.
[1] Pronounced 'TEN-ah'