CHAPTER 117: KETTLEMORE ESTATE

Chapter 115: Kettlemore Estate

When they stepped outside the inn, the air felt strangely fresh, as if no time had passed at all. In fact, it hadn’t even been an hour.

"Strange..." Ethan muttered, rubbing his stomach. "Why do I feel empty then?"

Lirael gave him a jab with her elbow. "I told you, you think with your stomach."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." He smirked. "Let’s get something light... or should I just eat you instead?"

Her cheeks puffed slightly, her voice rising. "You always have something to say to me, don’t you?"

"Hehe, that’s because you’re way too easy."

"Hmph! It’s only because it’s you."

"Yes," Ethan said more softly this time, his smile carrying a weight behind it, "only because it’s me."

Lirael’s lips twitched as if she wanted to argue, but she only turned her head away, hiding her expression.

With that, the two strolled leisurely through the streets, deciding on a light snack. The mood was warm, simple... fleeting.

But then, mid-step, Ethan’s hand flickered. A glint of mana pulsed, and in the space before him a token materialized.

Lirael’s eyes narrowed as the token shimmered in Ethan’s palm. "Hmm? That’s the Kettlemore family crest... Are we really meeting them today?"

Ethan twirled it once between his fingers, the faint mana glow dancing across his knuckles. "Well, we’ve got some time on our hands, so why not? It’s never a bad idea to line my pockets a little more. Especially when I’m planning to buy a new pillow soon."

Her lips parted, incredulous. "You literally have more than five hundred gold coins stuffed away. What in the world do you need more for?"

Ethan shrugged as if five hundred gold were loose change. "It’s never bad to have extra, right?"

She crossed her arms, exasperation dripping from her tone. "Five hundred is already excessive. At most you’ll spend a hundred... maybe seventy if she wasn’t sick."

He smirked, ignoring the jab. "Yeah, yeah. Who knows what the future holds? Better to be prepared."

Lirael let out a huff that was half sigh, half reluctant laugh, and shook her head.

The two of them continued walking, the bustle of the city shifting as they left the open markets behind. The air grew less cluttered with the sharp tang of roasted meats and the cries of vendors, giving way to the faint perfume of tended gardens and polished stone. The streets here were broader, cobbled smooth, lined with wrought-iron lamps and trimmed hedges. Carriages drawn by sleek horses rolled past, their wheels clattering lightly against the stone.

"Inner district," Ethan muttered, slipping the token back into his cloak. "Always feels like another world in here."

"Don’t get distracted," Lirael warned softly, though her eyes lingered on the manicured balconies and tall gates just as much as his did.

With that, they pressed onward.

As they moved deeper into the inner district, their steps slowed before a grand estate. Wrought-iron gates gleamed in the sunlight, the family crest carved into the arch above — the same design that shimmered faintly on Ethan’s token.

Ethan flashed the token toward the guard. "We’ve been invited by Sir Darion Kettlemore."

The guard’s eyes shone faintly at the insignia before nodding. "Of course, sir. Please wait while I escort you. My companion will inform Lord Darion immediately."

Minutes later, Ethan and Lirael were seated in a lavish reception chamber. Polished oak furniture gleamed beneath chandeliers of cut crystal. The cushions of the sofa were so plush Lirael almost sank into them. Silver trays with tea and sugared fruits rested on the table, their fragrance filling the air.

The door opened with a smooth creak, and in walked Darion Kettlemore. His merchant’s smile was practiced, but warm enough to appear genuine. His hair was slicked back neatly, and his robe was embroidered with subtle gold patterns — the kind that declared wealth without shouting it.

"Sir Ethan, Lady Lirael," Darion greeted smoothly, bowing slightly. "It’s an honor to finally welcome you to the Kettlemore estate. Please, treat this place as your own."

They exchanged pleasantries for a few minutes, Darion displaying his well-trained conversational skill, before the topic naturally shifted to business.

Darion gestured, and a servant set down a small pouch on the table before them. "Here is your due for the monster materials you traded previously. Four gold and seventy silver, rounded off."

Ethan accepted the pouch with a polite nod. "My thanks. Though, I do wonder..." His lips curled with a hint of mischief. "Would Sir Darion be interested in a rare monster material?"

Darion’s brows arched, intrigue sharpening his gaze. "Rare, you say? Pray tell, what kind?"

Ethan leaned back slightly, his tone casual yet deliberate. "The nearly intact corpse of a Venomfang Serpent."

The words landed heavily. Darion’s merchant smile froze before breaking into genuine surprise, his eyes lighting up. "An intact corpse? Those are... exceedingly rare."

"And," Ethan continued smoothly, "I also possess its molted skin, from when it evolved from an Irongfang Serpent."

Darion shot to his feet, composure cracking. "Molted skin? Truly?"

"Yes."

Darion’s professional mask returned, though his excitement was unmistakable. "If what you say is true, we would very much like to acquire both, as soon as possible. Price is no concern — I give my word it will be fair."

"That can be arranged right now." Ethan tapped his ring meaningfully, the mana glinting.

Darion’s gaze flicked to the ring, widening slightly. "A storage ring? You’ve acquired one for yourself?"

"Of course," Ethan replied easily.

"Then by all means," Darion said quickly, recovering with a practiced smile. "Shall we move to the garden? It would be... unwise to display such materials here."

"Lead the way."

They moved to a spacious garden behind the estate, where trimmed hedges and marble fountains gleamed under the midday sun. With a thought, Ethan summoned the Venomfang Serpent’s corpse.

The body hit the manicured grass with a heavy thud, coiling across thirty feet of scaled menace. Even in death, its presence was suffocating.

Darion’s jaw slackened. He had expected something impressive — but not this. "By the gods..." His hand lifted unconsciously toward the beast, as if to assure himself it was real. "And it looks... fresh?"

"Yes," Ethan replied lightly.

Darion tore his eyes away. "Then you must have a ring enchanted with a temporal stasis array... That is... unfathomably expensive."

Ethan said nothing, only allowing a faint smile to tug his lips.

Darion’s thoughts spun behind his calm expression: So, he isn’t just some adventurer. He’s backed by real wealth. Perhaps even noble lineage. Establishing ties with him is paramount.

"May I also see the molted skin?" Darion asked.

Ethan summoned it — an enormous, metallic-patterned husk, gleaming faintly like steel woven into scales.

Darion inhaled sharply, his hands twitching with excitement before he snapped his fingers. "Servants! Carefully pack these away, and bring forth the payment immediately." His gaze lingered on Ethan, sharper now. "Sir Ethan, it seems you bring fortune wherever you tread."

Once the materials were whisked away, Darion leaned closer, his tone shifting to business. "If I may... have you considered forming a contract with the Kettlemore family? Not an exclusive one," he added quickly, "merely a matter of preference. That you look to us first when trading monster materials. If for some reason we are unavailable, you would of course be free to go elsewhere."

Ethan arched a brow. "And the benefits?"

Darion spread his hands smoothly. "Full payment, no deductions, no tax. And we guarantee to prioritize buying your materials above others. A partnership, built on trust."

Ethan considered it for a moment before nodding. "Hmm... acceptable. So, where do we sign?"

Darion’s smile widened, genuine this time. "Just a moment. I’ll draft a letter to the family head for formality’s sake — but rest assured, the contract can be signed today."