The next morning dawned gently, as if the heavens themselves wanted to savor the mont before surrendering the world to the hustle and bustle of daylight.
A soft golden glow bathed Greyvale City, warming the slate rooftops and shimring off the wide cobblestone streets that wound through the burgeoning tropolis like veins in living flesh.
Vendors were already setting up their stalls, their calls echoing faintly in the crisp morning air; carts rattled down the roads, laden with produce from nearby villages; chimneys puffed trails of pale smoke; and beasts of burden trudged dutifully through the streets, guided by half-awake workers eager to catch the morning markets before they beca crowded.
From its highest rooftops to its narrowest alleys, Greyvale City inhaled deeply, and exhaled life.
On one of these bustling main roads walked Pax, his boots clicking rhythmically as he navigated through morning foot traffic. His eyes practically glowed with anticipation. The cool air brushed against his cheeks, but an inner excitent made him feel unusually warm.
Never had his steps felt so light or his heart so full. His mind kept returning to Sage’s words from yesterday, replaying them until they felt etched into his very being.
Spread the news. Exaggerate it. Make it known. And once one hundred people co to post missions, ten gold coins are yours.
Ten gold coins... for gossip.
The thought alone sent a smile tugging at Pax’s lips so wide that passersby shot him curious glances. But he couldn’t care less.
In all his years drifting between jobs,...potter, waiter, farr, vendor, errand boy, you na it — he had never encountered sothing so absurdly easy,sothing so laughably simple...and yet so profitable.
Gossip was a natural resource in Greyvale City; it flowed like water and ignited like wildfire when sparked in just the right crowd. And Pax? He was a master at igniting sparks.
Pax had learned long ago that the best rumors weren’t shouted, they were whispered, just loud enough for the right ears to lean in.
Snapping back to reality, he lifted his chin and continued down the bustling avenue until he spotted a familiar silhouette: The Fourfold Haven.
Even from afar, it was impossible to miss,a four-story building crafted from expertly carved wood and stone, adorned with lanterns and banners fluttering gently in the morning breeze.
The first floor housed a restaurant beloved by commoners; the second floor served as an inn always teeming with travelers; while the third and fourth floors belonged to Greyvale’s most popular brothel, a haven for weary workers seeking warmth and companionship. Regardless of whether it was dawn or dusk, The Fourfold Haven never truly slept.
Standing before it now, Pax took a deep breath. If there was any place in Greyvale where rumors could ignite overnight, it was here.
The clientele ranged from rough laborers to traveling rchants,from gossip-hungry aunties to low-ranking officials who drank more than they worked. Drop a rumor here and watch it not just spread but multiply.
Straightening his clothes, Pax stepped inside the building.
Noise crashed into him like a tidal wave. The mont he stepped inside, the lively chaos enveloped him completely,the clattering of plates, the overlapping shouts of waiters weaving between tightly packed tables.
The laughter of patrons already indulging in ale, and the mouthwatering aroma of roasted at mingling with sweet pastries wafting from the kitchen.
The first floor could hold nearly two hundred people, and judging by the morning crowd, it was already halfway full.
The floorboards vibrated beneath the stomping boots and scraping chairs, while snippets of conversation fluttered through the air like restless birds.
"I told you that rchant scamd ..."
"My wife’s going to kill if I go ho slling like ale again..."
"Did you hear about the rumors surrounding the western trade road?"
"Hey waiter! More soup!"
Just as Pax began scanning for familiar faces among the sea of patrons, a booming voice cut through the chatter.
"PAX! Oi! Over here!"
His eyes lit up instantly. He turned to see a table near the center of the hall where five rough yet cheerful-looking n waved him over.
Each one looked like they belonged at the docks or construction sites,strong backs, loud mouths, easy laughter. Pax’s people.
He navigated through the crowd until he reached their table. As soon as he sat down, they greeted him like an old friend returning from battle.
"You damn rascal, where’ve you been?"
"Pax! Still alive? I lost a bet!"
"Hahaha! Sit down!"
He laughed with them, feeling warmth settle into his bones. These were n he had worked alongside years ago, sotis hauling cargo, sotis fixing fences, sotis helping farrs harvest.
Pax had drifted through more than a dozen jobs; these five were constant faces along his chaotic journey.
Well-known among commoners for his versatility, he was truly a Jack of All Trades, he never stayed still. And now... he was on the verge of becoming sothing far grander.
Once a waiter approached, Pax ordered a small assortnt of food. As steaming plates arrived, fried eggs, warm bread, spiced potatoes, diced at,they all dug in with ravenous appetites that spoke to long hours without food.
At first, conversation flowed casually—work complaints, neighborhood gossip, and wheat prices this season, but Pax’s mind raced with anticipation.
He needed everything to align perfectly: enough noise for his words to travel unnoticed but quiet enough for those nearby to catch every sentence.
Then he heard a lull in noise from surrounding tables. He waited letting the conversation ebb. He took a slap deliberate sip of his drink, then he leared his throat dramatically.
"Ahem... boys," he said quietly but ensuring it carried just enough weight. "Have you heard the news?"
Five heads snapped toward him instantly. People who labored hard treasured gossip like gold; it was entertainnt and distraction rolled into one.
"What news?"
"Oi, Pax! Don’t tease us."
"You look like you swallowed a secret."
"Perfect." Pax grinned, leaning forward with the slow, calculated deanor of a man about to drop a bombshell.
"You all know Cassian Thaumas, right?"
The reaction was imdiate. Everyone at the table froze mid-bite, eyes wide in disbelief. Soone at the next table nearly choked on his bread.
"Cassian Thaumas?!"
"You an the Adept-Rank Alchemist?"
"Greyvale’s pride?"
"Don’t joke about that man!"
Pax raised both hands dramatically. "I’m not joking."
A hush fell over the room, not complete silence, but a palpable stillness as more people turned their attention toward him. Even the waiter passing by slowed down.
Pax smirked inwardly. Hook, line, and sinker.
"Yesterday," he continued in a deep, deliberate tone, "Cassian Thaumas visited a certain establishnt. Quietly. Without guards or any fanfare."
Exchanges of surprised glances spread through the group.
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