"Let's call it a day."
It seemed it was getting late. With his hands clasped behind his back, Luke strolled around step by step like a boss doing an inspection and announced it was time to clock out.
After all, from morning until now, seven or eight hours had passed.
He wasn't some heartless capitalist—he wasn't about to squeeze the few employees they already had.
The afternoon's results were pretty good. Navis was already very proficient at making lead type, and even Maylee and Korsen had basically gotten the hang of it.
From here on out, it was just a matter of time.
Fiora and Lux had helped all afternoon.
Lady Laurent was the kind of person who could sit still and focus, so she didn't find it boring at all.
As for Lux, she ended today's work looking like she still wanted more. Luke noticed that the entire afternoon she'd been in that bright-eyed, completely absorbed state.
But then again, for Miss Crownguard, it seemed like anything was fun as long as it wasn't school.
After saying goodbye to Navis, the three of them left House Menck.
Inside the carriage on the road, Luke gave Fiora a new task.
Looking at her, Luke said, "Next, I'll need you to find more workers, and then find a few small workshops. The sooner, the better."
House Menck's workshop naturally couldn't be used forever—after all, it was someone else's family.
Right now, it was only a temporary base to save time.
In the meantime, they could slowly prepare everything else.
Hearing that, Fiora nodded lightly.
She knew plenty about swordsmanship, but when it came to business and industry, she was completely out of her depth.
So as a partner, all she needed to do was carry out Luke's instructions.
Kahina had already started handling preparations on the Illuminators' church side.
And seeing that Fiora now had something to do, Lux—also one of the partners, but currently with nothing assigned—immediately looked at Luke with eager anticipation.
"What about me?"
"You…"
Luke looked at Miss Crownguard's expectant eyes, and for a moment he couldn't think of any task to give her.
Staring at that charming face, he silently weighed the odds of Lux somehow messing things up.
After a few seconds, he said seriously, "You have another use, but now isn't the time to tell you."
Which was basically just him admitting he hadn't figured out what to have Lux do yet.
So for now, he'd just bluff his way through.
Seeing his serious expression, Lux also nodded seriously.
She suddenly felt a sense of mission. If it was something he couldn't even tell her yet, then it had to be important.
Thinking of that, she asked again, "Then what do I do before that?"
Luke looked at her and said, "Before that, just eat well and drink well."
"Oh."
Lux nodded again, feeling like something was off.
But she couldn't quite put her finger on it.
The carriage continued on, dropping Fiora and Lux off at their homes.
But Luke didn't go home. Instead, he had Yurna Doer turn the carriage around and head the other way.
After a while, the carriage stopped in front of the capital's prison.
Two guards stood watch at the entrance. They wore silver-white armor and iron helms, blue cloaks draped over their shoulders, spears in hand—standing ramrod-straight and meticulous.
When they saw a carriage stop outside, and noticed the Lightshield crest on it, the two guards immediately stepped forward, respectfully stopping at the front of the carriage. When they saw the young man step out, both of them saluted at once.
"Greetings, Your Highness!"
"At ease," Luke said casually, then lifted his gaze to the prison ahead.
It was like a small city. Above a white stone gate, on the second-floor walkway, two soldiers stood guard as well. The walls extended back, and at regular intervals, more soldiers kept watch.
Farther in stood a massive building, and at its peak was an eagle statue, its talons braced atop an enormous stone pillar.
"Your Highness came here to…?" one guard asked, lifting his head.
Luke replied, "Just wanted to go in and take a look."
So the guard turned and pushed open the main door.
He only needed a reason. Normally, without orders from above, ordinary people weren't allowed into the dungeon.
But was Luke an ordinary person?
Obviously not.
"Please, go right in," the guard said, stepping aside.
Luke walked in.
Behind him, the guard added, "Feel free to look around. The left side holds ordinary prisoners. The right side holds mages."
Understanding, Luke headed to the right.
Soon he reached an entrance. After a few steps down the corridor, he stopped at the first door.
Just then, a patrolling soldier walked over.
He checked Luke's face twice to confirm, then lowered his head in salute. "Your Highness."
Luke glanced at him, then looked back at the door. "What's in here?"
The soldier took a key from his belt and opened the door immediately, explaining as he did, "This is the Runic Vault. Everything confiscated from the prisoners is locked and sealed in here."
With a click, the door opened.
Inside was pitch-black. The soldier took a torch from the wall outside. "Would you like to go in and look?"
Luke took the torch, nodded, and his eyes showed interest.
He stepped inside first. The soldier followed, lighting the torches inside one by one.
Soon, the room brightened.
"If you need anything, just call my name—Jaredan," Jaredan introduced himself, then stepped back. "I'll be outside."
With that, he exited, pulling the door shut behind him.
In the center was a writing desk with a chair beside it, several books resting on the tabletop.
Around the room were shelves after shelves, and many storage cabinets packed with items.
This was the prison for mages, so everything sealed in the Runic Vault was naturally property collected from mages.
Luke walked to a shelf and saw rolled-up scrolls, several vials filled with unknown potions, and many books.
He'd heard that each of those books recorded a kind of magic.
Curious, Luke took one down and opened it to browse.
The first thing he saw was a spell made from strange letters stitched together.
Usually, mages cast magic by chanting spells. Different spells produced different effects—and different levels of power.
"Aka. Ne. No. Yi."
Luke didn't know if he had any magical talent, but he read the spell aloud anyway. He didn't feel anything.
He closed the book and put it back.
He picked up a scroll nearby, unrolled it, and glanced at it. A sigil pattern was drawn on it—he had no idea what it did, either.
As for the potions, Luke didn't bother checking them. They were all bright, unnatural colors—one look and you could tell they weren't anything normal.
He walked over to the storage cabinets and pulled out a staff.
It wasn't very heavy, but it seemed to still carry traces of magic from past use.
"Hm. A staff seems to be one of the conditions for casting magic, too."
He'd heard that staves could stabilize magical power and enhance spells.
Of course, some powerful mages could cast with bare hands—some didn't even need spells.
With the staff in hand, Luke swung it a few times. It whooshed through the air.
Once he got bored, he put it back.
Then Luke walked out. As he opened the door, the soldier standing outside immediately looked over, waiting for instructions.
Luke asked, "Which way is the dungeon?"
The soldier pointed to the right at once. "Go forward about a hundred meters, then turn right. You'll see an entrance—there."
Luke nodded and headed that way.
After a hundred meters and a right turn, sure enough, an entrance appeared straight ahead.
He walked up. Two guards stood watch here as well—taller than the others, their weapons swapped from spears to long-handled axes.
"Who goes there?"
"The area ahead is restricted—mages are held inside. Stop right there!"
The two guards barked their warning, blocking Luke's path and watching him warily.
This was the first time someone hadn't recognized him.
But Luke wasn't surprised. Even in the capital, plenty of people still didn't know who he was.
So he stated his identity. "I'm Luke Lightshield IV."
"You're the prince?"
"We've been rude. Our apologies."
The two guards sized up Luke's face a few times, then immediately bowed.
If he could walk all the way here, his identity didn't need further doubt.
And they'd heard the prince was handsome—now that they looked, it was true.
Without asking Luke's purpose, they stepped aside at once, signaling for him to enter.
Luke didn't say anything else and walked straight in.
Inside was a long tunnel corridor. Torches hung on the walls, lighting the way forward. From here, you could barely see any sunlight at all, and the whole place felt dim and oppressive.
Walking through it, the dungeon was quiet—so quiet that the only sound was his own footsteps against the floor.
Luke couldn't help glancing up at the ceiling, wondering if a redback spider might drop down.
Unfortunately, he didn't even see a single strand of web.
He continued forward, and soon he reached the first level.
Both sides were lined with cell doors, and plenty of prisoners were locked inside.
"Water! Give me some water!"
"I haven't eaten in three days—give me food!"
"Let me out! I want to see my family!"
"I'm not a mage! Why am I locked up?!"
Luke took a few steps and saw prisoners rush up to the bars, wailing and protesting in useless desperation.
"Your Highness, what brings you here?"
A bald, middle-aged man approached. He was tall and broad, wearing a silver helm, with a white beard along his nose and chin.
Noticing Luke's puzzled look, he introduced himself. "I'm the officer in charge here—Dierde. I've seen you once before. You probably don't remember me."
At the ceremony in the Grand Plaza that day, he'd been among the heavily-guarded soldiers and had seen Luke up close.
Luke really didn't remember him. He answered the first question instead. "I was curious about this place, so I came to see it."
"These are all sewer rats," Dierde said. "I'm worried they'll dirty your eyes."
He moved to a position slightly behind Luke, maintaining a respectful posture, seemingly preparing to accompany him.
Luke didn't mind. Looking at the prisoners on both sides, he asked, "Are these all mages?"
"Not all—but they will be soon," Dierde replied with a smile. "Some of them were caught by the Mageseekers. They refuse to confess, so they're being held until trial.
"But how could the Mageseekers ever catch the wrong person? Don't you agree?"
Luke didn't answer. His eyes swept across the prisoners' faces one by one.
Then, expressionless, he continued forward until he reached the stairs down to the second level.
A spiral staircase led down, and soldiers patrolled the area.
The second level's layout was the same—cells lining both sides.
There were plenty of prisoners, too, but unlike the first level, most of them here looked listless and drained, as though they had no strength left.
"And these?" Luke asked again.
Dierde answered, "These are confirmed mages. Some will be punished here, some will be exiled for good. And for those with very little magic, once they've been made to drink a petricite draught, they can be held for a time and then released."
Which meant this entire level was mages.
Luke looked around and saw bloodstains on the wall panels and the floor. Clearly, mages didn't fare well down here.
He also spotted that long-haired mage from the street that day.
The mage didn't look any better now than he had then. He sat there with empty eyes while a soldier poured something into his mouth.
The long-haired mage didn't resist, letting the liquid flow in before swallowing it down.
Plenty of others were being treated the same way.
Luke took one look at the bottles. What they contained was presumably the petricite draught.
It was a kind of petricite limewater specially made from petricite. Luke didn't know the other ingredients, but the effect was simple.
Force a mage to drink it, and the petricite residue would linger in their body, interfering with their ability to generate magic again.
Of course, it wasn't permanent—petricite limewater would eventually be expelled.
But for mages with very little magic, it was useful. Usually, those mages had awakened magic but posed no threat. Once confirmed by the Mageseekers, they'd be brought into the dungeon.
They'd be forced to drink the petricite draught for a while, held for a while, and once confirmed harmless, they'd be released.
After making a circuit, Dierde spoke up. "That's basically everything. Is there anything else you'd like to see?"
Luke withdrew his gaze from the mages and looked toward the far end of the second level.
At the end was a large door, with two guards posted in front of it.
So Luke asked, "What's in there?"
"A felon," Dierde replied, looking over as well. He gave the prisoner's name. "You've probably heard of him. Sylas of Dregbourne."
"Have I?"
Luke's eyes lit with interest as he walked toward the end of the corridor.
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