Kael stepped through the portal, his heart beating in sync with the fading hum of energy that surrounded him. He had been preparing for the Sunday meeting, his equipment all in order. The icy blacksmithing hammer, a sword he crafted with Arcane Anvil and his slime cape, resting comfortably across his shoulders. Each piece was a part of him now.

  The familiar weightlessness of teleportation engulfed him, and Kael had no sense of time or space. But when he emerged on the other side, he realized something was different.

  This wasn’t the usual gathering point. The space was circular, its walls made of smooth stone, polished and gleaming as though the room had been carved from some ancient, living rock. Other Masters, all standing in confusion, looking around with a shared sense of unease.

  Before Kael could take in his surroundings fully, an imp appeared before them, larger than Skrindle but still retaining the same translucent quality. Perched atop its head was a top hat, a bizarre yet fitting detail. The imp floated in with an air of authority, its wings fluttering with purposeful elegance.

  The imp’s grin was wide. "Well now," it said, a musical hum that seemed to vibrate through the very air. "It seems we’ve got a fine collection of fresh Bronze Masters today."

  There was a moment of confused silence as the gathered Masters looked around, their eyes flicking to each other and back to the imp.

  "Ah, I see. You’re all wondering what’s going on, yes? Where you all are? Worry not. You’re in the right place—just not the place you’re used to."

  The imp’s eyes twinkled mischievously as it gave a theatrical bow. "I am Mizzik, the imp in charge of the Master’s Marketplace."

  Marketplace? The Masters exchanged wary glances, none of them certain what Mizzik meant.

  “I can see you're all a little bewildered. That’s perfectly fine. You’ve just ascended to Bronze, after all. The Marketplace is available to Masters of Bronze and higher.”

  There was a long pause, as everyone absorbed the words. A Marketplace for Masters? Kael was processing the idea when Mizzik continued.

  “The room you’re in now is the holding area. All those who have recently ascended to Bronze are brought here to get their bearings. Think of it as a kind of waiting room before the real business begins.”

  “The Marketplace is where you can trade or purchase anything sold by the other Masters. Set up a shop and get customers or walk around and buy to your heart’s desire. But remember—no cheating or fighting. Break the rules, and you're banned for the week."

  With a flourish, Mizzik pointed toward a door that seemed to materialize out of thin air—a doorway that led to a set of stairs spiraling downward. “That leads to the gathering hall. The place you meet up for Sunday meeting.”

  Mizzik twirled and pointed at another door that materialized on the stone walls. “And that leads to the Marketplace.”

  The imp paused, letting the words hang in the air, before giving them a knowing glance. "Any questions?"

  The gathered Masters shook their heads, a sea of eager faces brimming with excitement, some eyes sparkling with greed, others with the thirst for power. Kael kept his expression neutral, his mind already working through the possibilities. The Marketplace was a gold mine, but he knew the price would be steep.

  Nothing came easy, not in this world. Not in this system.

  "Good," Mizzik said with satisfaction, his voice sharp as a whip. "Now go. The marketplace awaits."

  With a flick of his hand, the imp disappeared into a puff of smoke, leaving the Masters to their own devices. Some hurried toward the door leading to the Marketplace, others whispered excitedly to each other.

  Kael hesitated for a moment, taking in the scene. The atmosphere was electric, brimming with anticipation.

  Right outside the room, a thin, almost emaciated Master stood outside a stall, wearing a long leather coat that hung loosely on his frail frame. He opened his coat with exaggerated flair, revealing rows of small vials, each one filled with a dark, viscous substance.

  "Get your Demon Blood here! Only 10 gold a vial! A bargain!"

  Just beside him, a short, but long Master, with countless legs, scurried past like a centipede, suddenly stood upright with surprising agility. "Spider Queen eggs! Mammoth Worm eggs for sale!" the creature crowed. "Get them while they hatch!"

  The Marketplace was large, an open ring surrounded by rows upon rows of stalls. Everywhere he looked, there were Masters haggling, exchanging goods, or displaying their wares with fervor. The noise was deafening, voices fighting to be heard over the others, clangs of steel as Masters tried new weapons and flashes of light when spells were cast.

  Kael didn’t move, still curiously looking. But before he could look away, another voice rang out from behind him.

  “I’ve got the worst luck, some invaders came. Took my orb. Took all my loot. And now I cant buy anything.”

  Kael turned to look at the source of the voice. It was a Master who appeared to be carved from rock, its body solid and imposing. The Master had a downcast, almost defeated air.

  Kael stood for a moment, weighing his options in the chaotic Marketplace. The thought of gold hung heavily on him. He needed it to form a conclave that could aid those who needed it. But as he stood here, in front of a struggling Master, he realized that now, more than ever, he was in the right position to help others.

  "I have some spare gold," Kael said. "I can help you."

  The rock Master looked at him with a mix of disbelief and hope. "Are you serious?"

  "I am."

  “Name’s Nexi,” he said. "If you're willing to help me, I'll pay you back as soon as I get more gold.”

  Kael shook his head. "That’s fine. Consider it a loan for now. You can pay it back when you’re able."

  He handed Nexi 100 gold, the weight of the coins slipping into the Master’s stone palm. The rock Master looked down at the gold for a long moment, as if it were something too precious to be real.

  “Thank you,” Nexi said, his voice strangely low from a large rock body. He gave Kael a small, almost imperceptible nod.

  “Should we look round the marketplace together?” Kael asked. “I’m Kael, by the way.”

  They walked through the Marketplace together, moving among the crowds, eyes darting over the various goods being sold. Masters of all shapes and sizes hawked their wares, each stall filled with exotic items—strange potions, magical trinkets, weapons crafted from materials Kael had never seen before.

  It was then that Kael stopped, his gaze caught by something. A stall manned by a humanoid plant. The creature was unlike any Kael had ever seen, its body formed of green vines and leaves, its head crowned with a brilliant pink flower that seemed to glow. It had no discernible face, no eyes or mouth, just the soft shifting of petals.

  In front of the stall, a sickle lay gleaming, decorated in intricate patterns of precious jewels. The blade was sharp, the craftsmanship unmistakable. Kael’s gaze lingered on it for a moment longer than usual, admiring the weapon’s beauty. The shopkeeper, as if sensing his interest, spoke, despite the absence of a face.

  “You’ve got a good eye,” the plant-like shopkeeper said. "Only 400 gold."

  Kael had liked the weapon but it was too expensive, far beyond what he could spare right now. He had more pressing concerns, and he needed to be wise with his resources.

  “Do you have a basic sickle?” Kael asked.

  The shopkeeper seemed to deflate, and though it had no face, Kael could sense the disappointment radiating from the creature. “A basic sickle? Well… I suppose so.”

  Without another word, the shopkeeper reached down into the stall and pulled out a much simpler sickle. IIts blade plain, the handle unadorned. It was functional, utilitarian.

  “Ten gold,” the shopkeeper said.

  Kael took the sickle, inspecting it carefully. There was nothing spectacular about it, nothing magical. But it would serve him well. Like his old sickle.

  But then Kael’s thoughts drifted to the monocle he had gotten from Myke Keys. He had nearly forgotten about it, tucked away in the corners of his orb.

  Kael pulled it out from his orb and placed it over his eye, adjusting it carefully. As his gaze settled on the sickle in his hand, numbers began to flicker in his vision—prices, etched in silver and gold, swirling like invisible ink across the object. He looked closer, his eyes narrowing as the monocle focused.

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  Four silver.

  "Four silver," Kael said to himself.

  Kael felt a flash of frustration—no, anger—as he looked at the shopkeeper, whose pink petals had only moments ago been so bright and welcoming. That Master had been lying, offering a price far beyond the actual value of the sickle.

  Kael turned away and walked briskly toward the next stall. He wasn’t here to be tricked, not by anyone.

  At the next stall, a muscular figure with four arms caught his attention. The master was a hulking presence, his body broad and solid, and his arms moved in tandem, hammering away at an anvil with precision, each strike ringing with authority.

  The stall was lined with a variety of weapons, swords, maces, and spears. All displayed with pride, their blades glinting in the light, their craftsmanship flawless.

  “Any weapon for 10 gold,” the four-armed Master said. “Take your pick.”

  Kael’s eyes flicked over the weapons—each one well crafted, their handles adorned with intricate designs, the edges sharp and gleaming.

  A sword caught his eye first, its hilt wrapped in dark leather, the blade tempered perfectly for cutting. He could feel the weight of it, the promise of power with every swing.

  But then, he remembered the monocle again, and his fingers instinctively went to it. He slipped it over his eye once more, and as he focused on the weapons, the prices shifted in his vision.

  The swords, the maces, the spears—all of them were marked with a price of 4 silver.

  The price was meaningless. The weapons were being sold for a fraction of what the shopkeeper had asked for. Kael's jaw tightened as the truth revealed itself. Myke had been right.

  The Masters only dealt in gold. It was all a trick, a system built on inflated values to trap the unsuspecting into thinking they were buying something of real worth.

  Kael turned away from the stall without a word, his hand dropping from his pouch. He couldn’t afford to waste his gold. Not today.

  "Not interested?" Nexi asked, his deep, rumbling voice breaking Kael’s thoughts.

  "I’ve got everything I need," Kael replied. "And besides, there’s no point in buying what you don’t need."

  "Fair enough," Nexi said. "I use my rock body for protection. One day, I’ll be as big as a mountain. I won’t need weapons.”

  Kael glanced at him. His rock body was a fortress in itself, a wall of defense that could repel almost anything. That kind of power wasn’t something that could be easily matched.

  “You’ve got some serious rock powers," Kael remarked.

  The hum of activity in the Marketplace seemed to grow louder as Kael and Nexi walked, the crowd ahead of them thickening. There, in the center of the gathering, stood the towering form of Tyrannix.

  The Master was a sight to behold, a colossal dragon with two heads, each more magnificent than the last. The dual heads spoke in unison, a deep voice that vibrated through the ground, pulling the crowd closer.

  “Black Dragons. The most powerful of all dragons. Get their eggs for 1000 gold, hatchling for 10,000, and a fully grown black dragon for 100,000 gold!”

  The crowd stirred at the mention of the prices. Masters pushed forward, eager to be the first to claim the rarest and most coveted of creatures.

  "Skrindle?" Kael muttered under his breath. “Are dragons that powerful?”

  But there was no answer. Just the hum of excited Masters.

  Kael’s gaze returned to the eggs. Without a word, Kael pulled the monocle from his pocket, slipping it over his eye. As his vision shifted, the gleaming dragon eggs on display revealed their true worth.

  1,000,000 gold each.

  The figure shocked him. It wasn’t just the price, it was the disparity. Here, in the marketplace of Masters, everything had a different value, every price seemed arbitrary. What was cheap to the Outside Races were expensive to Masters and what was cheap to Masters was ridiculously expensive for the Outside Races.

  He turned, shaking his head slightly, as if to clear his thoughts, but in the process, Kael found himself colliding with something solid and unyielding. He staggered back, his hand reaching out instinctively to regain balance.

  But his hand never made contact with the ground.

  Instead, it met the solid, immovable surface of a leg. A thick leg that felt as if it were carved from the very mountain itself.

  Kael froze.

  He didn’t need to look up to know who this was. The presence was unmistakable, the aura of power surrounding the figure enough to send a ripple of unease through Kael’s chest.

  Kael lifted his gaze slowly, deeply regretting his accident. Standing before him, towering over the crowd, was Vor. The demon ogre general, one of the most feared Masters. His body was massive, his form rippling with molten energy, his ornate armor incredibly intricate.

  Vor’s eyes burned with an intensity that could sear through the very soul, and Kael could feel them pressing down on him as the general spoke.

  “You.” Vor’s voice rumbled. "Speak with me."

  There was a chill in the air now, a stillness that made everything else seem insignificant. Nexi, standing slightly behind Kael, looked as though he had just been struck by an unexpected force. His eyes widened, the rock-like face betraying nothing but confusion.

  Before Kael could even gather his thoughts, Vor spoke again, his voice like gravel sliding over stone. "Alone."

  Kael glanced at Nexi, who had opened his mouth, only to close it again, clearly unsure of what to say. After a moment, Nexi gave a curt nod, looking back at Kael with a silent understanding.

  "I’ll pay you back when I can," Nexi muttered quickly, his voice heavy with the weight of his gratitude before he turned, his massive stone form quickly disappearing into the crowd.

  Kael nodded absently, trying to piece together what Vor’s sudden interest could mean. But there was no time to dwell on that now. The massive demon was already moving, his steps slow but deliberate. Kael had no choice but to follow.

  The Marketplace was as noisy as ever, Masters still shouting and haggling, but now there was a palpable tension in the air. Kael kept his distance, watching Vor’s back as the demon made his way toward a small alcove carved into the ring. The alcove was slightly secluded, giving it an almost ominous feel.

  As they neared the alcove, Vor turned to face Kael. Kael stood tall, his head reaching Vor’s knee, yet he remained composed.

  "You killed Malak."

  Kael blinked, confusion flickering across his features. The name meant nothing to him. He had been through so much. His mind went through the list of encounters, trials, and names that had surfaced during his journey, but Malak was foreign.

  "Who?" Kael asked.

  "Malak. Ascension Trial. You killed him."

  Kael had learned to stay calm in the face of danger. After all, the Imps had made it clear that violence among Masters would not be tolerated. But that didn’t mean Vor couldn’t kill him before anyone intervened.

  Vor's voice came again. “Malak. Was in my conclave. My demon summoner. Now he is dead.”

  Kael’s throat tightened as Vor’s words sank in. Kael didn’t respond. What could he say? What was there to say? The words felt like a trap, like quicksand pulling him deeper into this mess. Malak’s death had put him in the crosshairs of someone much more powerful than he could have anticipated. Vor was a general of demons, a Master whose name alone struck terror in the hearts of those who heard it. Now, Kael had become part of that story, whether he liked it or not.

  But then something unexpected happened.

  Vor suddenly dropped to one knee, his massive form bending forward. The demon’s blazing eyes, fierce and unyielding moments before, lightened slightly as he lowered himself, bringing his colossal body closer to Kael’s level.

  “Good,” Vor said. “You kill him in combat. You survived. He died honorably. The best death.”

  A sound that could only be described as a demonic laugh rumbled from Vor’s chest, deep and rolling like thunder. It wasn’t entirely a laugh, but it was something between a roar and a chuckle, unsettling and yet strangely familiar.

  "You are interesting, Kael," Vor continued, his gaze narrowing. "The battle of Highhaven. You help to almost win. I need a strategist.”

  “I do wallbreaker every week,” he said, his eyes glinting with malicious intent. “Join my conclave.”

  Kael stiffened, his gut clenching. He had been offered this before. The same offer. From Avaris. Join their conclaves, serve their purpose, and reap the rewards. But Kael had learned the hard way that joining other conclaves meant being subservient, bending to their wills, becoming a pawn in their schemes. He wasn’t foolish enough to fall for it again.

  "I'm done with joining other conclaves," Kael said. There was no hesitation in him now. The words came as naturally as breathing. “I’m not interested in being part of another group."

  “Respect.”

  Vor’s voice was a low, reverberating rumble as he stood up, his immense form towering over Kael again. “Such willpower. So many Masters want to join. But you choose independence. Respect.”

  Vor turned to leave, his massive form turning with slow deliberation. Kael stood motionless, watching as the demon moved away.

  But then, an idea flashed inside his mind. He called out to Vor, the words leaving his mouth before he had fully thought them through.

  “I could still help you,” Kael shouted. “Without joining your conclave.”

  Vor stopped in his tracks at Kael’s shouts. Kael felt a strange tension in the space that only seemed to grow as Vor slowly turned around, his red eyes piercing through the shadows.

  "Help? How?"

  Kael reached into his orb and pulled out a small, glowing wisp. The wisp floated directly into Vor’s outstretched hand, settling gently in his palm. Vor’s expression shifted, his gaze flicking down to the wisp in surprise.

  "This is Mr. Lighty," Kael said. “You can take him back to your square, and I’ll use him to tell you a strategy."

  Vor didn’t speak at first, the Master’s fiery eyes were like two smoldering coals, bright and unforgiving.

  "It burns blue, like the fires of Argarath," Vor said. "I’ll name it Argarath," he said, the name rolling off his tongue like the echo of a prophecy. "It suits it."

  Kael hesitated. He did not like other Masters naming his summons, yet the realization hit Kael hard. Argarath was a much better name than Mr Lighty.

  "Mr. Lighty," Kael said. "Your new name is Argarath."

  Mr Light—no, Argarath—flickered in agreement, its light brightening for just a moment before it drifted around Vor's large frame.

  “I would like to get paid,” Kael said. “I want 10,000 gold.”

  Vor’s flaming eyes flickered, a sharp spark of interest igniting within them. He looked down at Kael as if considering the weight of the request.

  "If I win," Vor said. "I will pay you the 10,000 gold. Oath."

  "Oath," Kael said.

  Vor closed his massive fist around Argarath, the wisp’s light dimming as it was engulfed by Vor’s hand. The demon straightened, his massive frame towering over Kael, giving a thunderous shout.

  “VICTORY!”

  With that, Vor turned, his great form moving with the slow, deliberate power, the Marketplace seeming to part before him. Masters stepped aside, none daring to challenge the demon’s passage.

  Kael watched Vor’s retreating form for a moment longer before turning away. Kael understood for him to survive in this world, to rise above the others, he would have to build his own path.

  His own conclave. His own power.

  And he was one step closer.

  ******