The Upper Market district was exactly as the passerby had described…
It had wide stone roads, lavish lamp posts with faint magical light even in the day, and shops displaying their wealth or luxurious products to attract customers.
Rayven's group moved through the crowd as the clopping of their horses sounded almost muted in the busy street filled with customers bargaining and traders boasting about their goods.
Before long, the unmistakable sight appeared before them.
The Golden Coast Trading branch had three floors, with its facade a careful mix of polished wood and stone. It looked quite old, but it was definitely a classic style.
The black gate was also bearing the Golden Coast Trading sign. It was a stylized wave crashing over a merchant ship, framed by a golden border.
Rayven slowed his horse to a stop just outside the gate as he tried to recall any memories about this place…
'It doesn't look like we're in deep trouble.' Rayven thought.
Despite what the previous man had said, the place still looked majestic. At the very least, it looked like that from the outside.
However, now that he looked closer, he realized that this branch was well-taken care of.
There were overgrown shrubs, dying plants and flowers, some litter on the ground, and the guards' uniforms had a touch worn at the seams… It was as if they hadn't changed their clothes for some time.
Soon, the two guards stationed at the gate straightened as they spotted his carriage.
With possible business coming to their shop, they immediately felt nervous and approached them.
Their eyes tracked the group like they would any visitor, but then one of them froze mid-step, his face draining of color before rushing forward.
"Young Master Rayven…?!" the guard blurted with his voice breaking from disbelief.
The other guard's head snapped toward Rayven… As expected, his expression shifted from wary to shocked.
Rayven dismounted slowly and controlled his expression.
It seemed that these guys had known him from the main branch.
"It's been a while… You remember me?"
The guard swallowed hard. "Of course… You—You're the grandson of Master Laxus Holt! We… we thought you…" He hesitated as if the words themselves were too heavy.
"…You were on the Team Five Caravan, weren't you?"
Rayven didn't answer immediately. Instead, he simply nodded once.
That was enough. The guards exchanged glances, one of them already bolting inside the gate toward the main building, shouting for the manager.
Not even a minute later, a man in his forties burst out from the double doors.
"Where?!"
His hair was black like Rayven himself, but with streaks of silver near the temples. He looked really stressed as his face had deep lines of both stress and laughter.
His expensive merchant's robe was slightly wrinkled, as though he hadn't taken the time to properly dress before rushing out.
"Rayven?!" The man's voice was loud. He was even trembling since he wasn't just surprised, he was also relieved.
"Uncle Albert…" Rayven greeted him as he recalled the man's appearance from his memories.
Albert Holt didn't hesitate. He strode forward in long steps before pulling Rayven into a fierce embrace. At this point, he could no longer contain his emotions.
"You're alive! The gods… the gods have not abandoned us after all!"
Rayven allowed the hug, his hands briefly resting on Albert's shoulders before stepping back. "I take it you heard about the caravan."
Albert's face darkened instantly before he let out a heavy sigh.
"Heard? Rayven, we received word that the entire Team Five Caravan was wiped out. No survivors. We couldn't even recover the bodies…"
Miki and Nara exchanged glances from their saddles, while Thyruz's gaze sharpened slightly.
Rayven's voice was calm, but inside, old images flashed before him… The burning wagons, screaming horses, the blood-soaked earth, and the wolf he had to kill.
"Why? I can tell we were targeted… But why?" Rayven was confused. After all, the caravan wasn't really carrying important items.
As a matter of fact, the attackers didn't take their treasures and left them behind. It means that they were deliberately targeted by the assault, and they weren't just robbers.
Albert looked at him grimly as he didn't know where to start…
Furthermore, Rayven was only 14… It might still be too early for him to learn about this. After all, he still had to finish his studies.
However, Rayven insisted, and Albert could only comply.
"Because it happened at the worst possible time. We've been under heavy attack, financial, political, and even physical, ever since the Veltham House started moving against us. They've been cutting our supply lines, bribing our caravan leaders, sending hired thugs to disrupt our markets… You name it, they've tried it. When Team Five's disaster happened, all our forces were already tied up trying to defend our other caravans. If we'd moved to retrieve you, we would have lost three more convoys in the process."
He gritted his teeth and, for a moment, his hands curled into fists. "I had to make the choice, Rayven. And it has haunted me every day since. You were… You are my brother's son. I thought I'd sent you to your death."
Rayven's expression softened just a fraction. "You made the choice to protect the company. I understand."
Rayven then thought deeply and asked calmly…
"Uncle… how can they blatantly do such a thing? There are still laws in this kingdom, aren't there? If the Veltham family truly attacked us, then they've committed treason against the Crown's peace. Wouldn't the Royal Trade Bureau step in?"
At that, Albert's eyes dimmed slightly, as though Rayven had asked the one question that carried more resentment than hope.
Just from that reaction, Rayven could already tell so much.
"Before I talk about that… I think we need to settle your friends. Are they the ones who saved you? They must be rewarded!"