“Then which favors are you going to ask of me today?” Lucille conceded, her voice calm but laced with curiosity.

Though it seemed Sokram wasn’t asking for much, Lucille knew better.

In truth, he was asking for everything: her trust, her resources, and perhaps even herself.

“Does that mean you agree?” Sokram asked, his expression lighting up with genuine happiness.

The sincerity in his smile was disarming, yet Lucille couldn’t help but feel intrigued by the depth behind his youthful eyes.

"I don’t know where someone as young as you learned about this," Lucille mused, her sharp gaze flickering toward Leona.

"Especially since I’m certain I didn’t tell even her." She paused, her fingers brushing against the ring on her hand.

With a flick of her wrist, she summoned a medallion, its surface gleaming faintly under the dim light of the room.

"If you want to be a friend to the Pavilion, you'd better honor this. There are no second chances."

Sokram accepted the medallion, its cool metal brushing against his palm as he turned it over in his fingers.

The faint glimmer of lamplight caught the intricate engravings of a ten-tailed fox on its surface, as though alive.

His brow furrowed slightly as he examined it, “What is this?” he asked, his tone tinged with uncertainty.

“Exactly what you asked for, and yet you pretend you didn’t know?”

Lucille’s sharp gaze studied him intently, analyzing every breath, every micro-expression, every subtle shift in his heartbeat.

But no matter how hard she looked, she couldn’t pierce through his carefully constructed mask.

‘Did he truly not know about it? And yet each word that came out of his mouth… Could it be fate?’ She wondered silently, failing to see beyond his facade.

“Is this a symbol of your friendship with us?” Sokram maintained his act, though inwardly, a deep sense of joy filled his chest.

‘First step done!' He thought triumphantly. 'Now, onto the next one.’

“Something like that,” Lucille replied cryptically. “If you ever need our services, be it information, spreading rumors, or even the company of our girls to entertain you or your guests, this medallion grants you access. Not just here in Eversnow, but in any other unit of our organization.”

As soon as Margiory heard those words leave Lucille’s lips, her eyes widened in shock.

“Eternal Guest!” Margiory blurted out, her voice trembling with disbelief.

The weight of those two words sent ripples of astonishment through Leona and Hannah.

“So you know about it?” Lucille raised a brow, unsurprised that someone of Lady Androny’s stature would recognize the significance of the medallion.

"I thought it was a myth, just rumors spread among the nobility," Margiory stammered, her hands trembling slightly as she stared at the medallion.

"But it’s real? Does this mean that our family’s information is now protected?"

She could hardly believe what was happening.

If this didn’t make them the wealthiest family in the Northern Continent, she didn’t know what else could.

Only unique individuals were rewarded with something like this; not even the Kings and Emperors of the North could obtain it easily.

But Sokram knew the real size of the Purple Pavilion.

He knew that the fox-kin who founded it operated brothels in slums across many cities.

Each brothel was overseen by a Mistress.

They had thousands of units across the continent and were the greatest information dealers in the North.

So, Kings and even Emperors were but simple clients. But those who offered valuable benefits to the Pavilion would become protected and supported by them.

But what Sokram offered them was the ability to continue to grow in power without having to bow their heads to someone else, and that was a greater treasure than any: it was freedom.

"Well, as you know, the secrets of Spirit Magic have been controlled by the Southern Continent’s Feral Clans," Lucille began, her gaze shifting to the sealed scroll in her hand.

She held it tightly, as though it were the most precious treasure she had ever possessed. "Unless you become affiliated with them, they won’t share it. I don’t know how you came across this, but this technique is something that can make us stand on equal footing with them. So, it’s definitely worth our friendship."

This story has been stolen from NovelBin. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

Although Sokram knew that the value of a Spirit Magic technique in the current time was as Lucille described, he decided to plant a seed for the future.

"Heh, those southern fools hold onto something as small as this like it’s some treasure," Sokram's tone was casual, almost dismissive. "But it’s as easy to figure out as learning how to walk."

Lucille’s frown deepened at his words, but before she could respond, he elaborated. "Like walking and running... it all depends on balance. For example, Titan Force, the energy used by the Titanic Elves, the Sword of the Elven Empire..."

Sokram raised his hands slowly, mirroring the motion he had used earlier to demonstrate Spirit Magic.

This time, however, the energies he summoned were different.

In his left hand, a verdant glow began to form a swirling sphere of Vitha that pulsed with the force of life.

In his right hand, a crimson Aura sphere, pulsing strongly, making everyone's spirits react.

As he brought his hands together, the two forces collided violently at first, sparking bursts of light.

Gradually, the turbulence subsided, and the energies merged into a radiant pink orb that hovered above his palms.

Its presence was palpable, radiating waves of an overwhelming sense of strength that sent shivers down everyone’s spine.

"See? It’s quite simple once you understand the principle of balance when fusing energies. The same goes for the last one, Vital Magic." Sokram spoke nonchalantly, as though he hadn’t just demonstrated something that could spark a war with the Elven Empire and Dracony.

Lucille’s frown morphed into an expression of surprise, then fear, and finally, greed and desire.

She leaned in closer, her movements fluid and deliberate.

Her hand rested lightly on Sokram’s lap, her touch warm and inviting.

The air between them crackled with unspoken tension as their gazes met. Behind Lucille's playful smile, her sharp eyes gleamed with mischief.

Lucille paid no heed to the daggers being stared at her by Sokram’s master and grandmothers; their glares brimming with killing intent might as well have been whispers compared to the intensity of her focus on him.

"Amazing, truly, you’re honestly worthy of being called a friend of the pavilion," Lucille purred, her voice dripping with playful allure.

Yet beneath the teasing tone lay a hint of genuine curiosity, and perhaps a trace of desire.

Her gaze lingered on him a moment longer than necessary. "Maybe even a son in the future? Unless you don’t mind adding both Lucy and me to your harem, haha."

Sokram noticed the underlying offer beneath her playful tone.

He placed his hand over hers and answered sincerely, "Although it’s too soon for me to think about such matters, I don’t see why not."

Hannah, Margiory, and Leona exchanged startled glances, their expressions hardening.

Each woman felt their pride wounded seeing him accept her offer.

But when he added, “As you can see, I already have many women that I love in my lair, and soon my harem too,” their cheeks flushed.

It wasn’t embarrassment nor denial, but a complex swirl of emotions.

But he didn't stop there. "I’ll make sure to grow strong enough so all of my women can depend on me completely."

Their heartbeat increased slightly at the confirmation that he intended to claim them as his.

Lucille was pleasantly surprised by his answer, though she dismissed it as a young man’s gloating.

Still, the fact remained that Sokram had immense potential, and investing in him would be the wisest choice.

"Well, we’ll leave such things for the future then," Lucille said, her tone light but her eyes sharp. "But what about now? Is there anything the Pavilion can assist you with?"

Sokram’s eyes shone with deliberate excitement, leading those around him to believe he had been hoping for such an offer.

"Yes! There is. Do you know Mr. Figos? A werecat who owns a butcher’s shop in the merchant district, close to the slums?"

Lucille seemed surprised that they knew Figos. "Yes, I know the old cat. Did he offend you somehow?"

Sokram shook his head vehemently. "No! But I made a bet with him, one that, if I win, will benefit both him and me greatly. And you, no, the Pavilion, can help both of us with it."

The more she spoke with Sokram, the less Lucille understood him. ‘Why would a kid from the noble district be trying to help that werecat?’

But instead of inquiring directly, she waited for him to explain his plans.

"My plan is simple," Sokram began, his voice steady and confident. "I need you to spread a rumor, first in the slums, then to the rest of the city. The rumor is that Lady Androny and her family buy their meat from a werecat’s butchery near the slums. Which isn’t a lie, the only thing I’m leaving out is that we are responsible for half of his supply while he butchers our game for us at a discount."

He studied her intensely as her expression became thoughtful.

"But what people don’t know is that while most butchers in the city, those that belong to the Steelhearts, are selling second-rate meat at two hundred percent the market price, he will be selling his at eighty percent." Sokram finished and waited for her response.

“And you think a few rumors are enough to change the old cat’s situation?” Lucille asked, arching a perfectly sculpted eyebrow.

Her tone carried a note of skepticism, though her keen eyes showed a hint of curiosity. “Rumors spread faster than fire in dry grass, but they rarely burn long enough to leave a lasting mark.”

"It’s not the rumor itself," Sokram said, pointing at his grandmother. "It’s the name in it. Many people have seen her following Nana Hannah and me there more than once. The true magic in this scheme is starting the rumors in the slums first. Hunger beats prejudice every time."

Not just Lucille but everyone in the room felt as though the other shoe had finally dropped.

Unable to contain herself, Leona burst into laughter. "I knew it! Haha, you’re such a scheming dragon! Always plotting something, haha."

Hannah and Margiory were equally impressed.

The only reason Margiory had followed them around whenever Hannah took Sokram for a stroll in the market, something that had been happening ever since he was a child, was because he would always invite her to tag along.

With that, they could see that even if he hadn’t been planning this for long, he had the insight to see such a big opportunity in something as simple as an afternoon stroll.

Margiory wasn’t offended that he would use her name in this way.

Instead, she was proud of his business acumen and the fact that, although he wasn’t asking her for money, he was still counting on her influence.

"But that’s not all," Sokram continued, his voice steady and confident. "Once the people in the slums start buying first-rate, good-quality meat that’s way cheaper than what the nobles and merchants are consuming..."

He didn’t even need to finish his sentence before Lucille grasped the whole picture.

"The nobles and merchants will start buying there too," Lucille said, completing his thought. "And since someone as rich and important as Lady Androny trusts that butcher, even though he’s a werecat, they will do the same."

She paused, her sharp mind catching something unusual about the whole ordeal. "You said you supply Figos with half of his stock, but that still seems like too little profit for such a great strategy."

Sokram smiled; one of the things he admired most about her was her ability to sniff out his schemes, no matter how well he tried to hide them.

"That’s just the first step in a bigger plan. As for profit, the future is an open road that can bring many opportunities, especially if you know how to create them."